Be Brave Like Ukraine

Sometimes my ideas for posts come from the strangest places. This one arrived in the mail.

My husband had found a perfect Christmas gift for Mariia, but it had to come from Ukraine. Upon its arrival, she brought it to me puzzled, saying it was addressed to Jeff but had Ukrainian stamps. ‘That’s right,’ I said whisking it away. ‘I’m delighted it’s got here.’ Which is when I noticed the sticker on the back of the envelope.

An uplifting postal message
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

I doubt I would have thought any more about it except that a few things happened in close order. One was the comment by a chap in the park that the war would be over if the Ukrainians just accepted Russian rule. The second was Macron and Biden’s desire to negotiate with Putin. The third was the underlying rumblings that Ukrainian ‘recalcitrance’ in refusing to back down was causing energy and food supply issues for the West.

The answer I wanted to give all of them was: Be brave like Ukraine!

Since I know that many people share the views above, I’d like to give a little more insight than perhaps is available on the news.

But Ukraine is part of Russia anyway

Unfortunately, this is clearly what the Russians think and I’m sure many others too. Ukraine’s history is a complex one with the region being annexed many times over the centuries. It was home to the Kyivan Rus (Vikings who settled in the area) and was subsequently part of the Polish, Lithuanian, Mongol, Russian and Austro-Hungarian empires.

In 1922, after a brief period of independence, Ukraine became part of the USSR until achieving full independence once more in 1991. This time, the country chose its independence via a democratic referendum. It’s fate was not to be decided by the whims of history, but by the people themselves. And when asked if they wished to become an independent country the answer was an overwhelming yes – with 92.3% in support.

Thirty years on, they clearly wish to remain that way. Russia has deep cultural ties with the area, but I, for one do not believe that trumps a nation’s sovereignty or democratically decided statehood.

For a more in-depth but very easy comprehensible version, please watch the video below.

Time to negotiate?

With the war going on for almost ten months now, there are those who wish to go into negotiations to bring it to an end. Macron seems especially keen and Biden too, given certain provisos. As someone who always prefers peace over war and who is now far too aware of the difficulties and deprivations of those living in Ukraine, I would normally applaud such as progress. Yet the phrase that keeps resounding in my brain is ‘Do not negotiate with terrorists.’

While Russia claims that it feels intimidated by the potential increase in size of of NATO (especially Ukraine gaining membership), its ‘military infrastructure in Europe’ and missiles near its borders (Reuters Dec 5), there is nothing to suggest that Russia has anything to fear from its near neighbours. The contrary, however, cannot be said to be true. Russia has constantly threatened and undermined the individual nationhood of Ukraine with its worst efforts under Stalin who led a state sponsored famine – the Holodomor – resulting in almost four millions deaths. Russia’s invasion is just one incident in a line of many.

We all want peace, but not at any price Image: Engin Akyurt

When asked to comment on Putin’s security demands, one of Zelenskiy’s aids replied, ‘The world need security guarantees from Russia.’ (Reuters, 5 Dec). Indeed.

A little inconvenience

There is no doubt that the ongoing war in Ukraine is causing major disruption of energy and food supplies. Ukraine is the number one producer of sunflower oil and a major producer of cereals like maize, barley and wheat. It also is a significant producer of steel, which impacts engineering projects. Further, the conflict has resulted in a steep rise in energy prices, since Russia supplies so much to Europe.

Rapeseed and blue skies Image: Alexei Scutari on Unsplash

The war will cost all of us – though the poor countries reliant on their grain the most. But for those of us in the UK, we are unlikely to suffer too terribly. I appreciate that for many, the increase in fuel bills will be an unwelcome and perhaps final insult to already stretched finances. I do not underestimate that this winter will be hard for many people.

That said, I cannot conceive of how dire a winter in Ukraine will be. With temperatures regularly plummeting to sub zero, how do you manage without any reliable sources of energy at all? Mariia works regular hours on-line, but her colleagues in Ukraine have to work whenever the electricity supply is turned on and they are not sheltering in basements. She is sending thermal underwear to her parents. They have a generator, but it relies on fuel – and that is in short supply.

So what should we do?

Clearly, we can do little to change the situation in Ukraine, but we can follow their example. If we recognise the bravery and resilience of the Ukrainian people in the face of overt aggression, perhaps we can bring a little more courage in the face of adversity in our own lives. Perhaps, we will not be able to fulfil all our desires this Christmas, perhaps we will even have to make some sacrifices, but I hope that we can do this with good grace.

Moreover, I hope that we can continue to support the Ukrainian people in their struggle against a wicked regime. We must not let our own inconvenience lead us to falter and perhaps support measures that ease our lives at the expense of the Ukrainians. Being brave has consequences that are not all positive, yet the consequences for appeasement and accommodation in the long term are far, far worse.

A Proper Thanksgiving

Last Saturday, we did what we seldom do, and had a Thanksgiving dinner. My husband is American and he felt that a celebration was in order. We have much, after all, to be thankful for. I invited my mum, my niece and her husband.

Jeff, Mariia and I laboured in the kitchen for much of the day, but by dividing the tasks and helping one another, it was more joy than chore. Mariia contributed some amazing Ukrainian dishes, Jeff tackled the nut roast and vegetables, and I made the puddings. Keeping everything vegan was a little challenging, but we made it. I even managed a perfectly edible pumpkin pie using silken tofu. Result!

Thanksgiving dinner
Image: Mariia Matrunich

Thanksgiving is such a delightful holiday in that it has all the hallmarks of Christmas : a meal with loved ones, special foods, the best china and none of the stress. Well, less stress anyway. It is also a reminder to be grateful.

The origins of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a peculiarly American celebration, because it honours a significant event in the history of that country. The early settlers, the Pilgrims, were ill-equipped to survive in this new land. They lost half their community in the first winter, with most of them remaining aboard ship and dying of scurvy, exposure or disease.

When they came ashore, they were met by an English speaking Indian who brought his friend, Squanto, a few days later. Squanto was vital to the new settlers. He also spoke English (having been enslaved by an English ship and later having escaped to London from where he found his way home). To the Pilgrims he brought knowledge of local plants – how to tap maple trees and grow crops suitable to American soil. In addition, he helped secure friendly relations with the local tribe: the Wampanoag.

The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth Rock Image: Jennie Augusta Brownscombe, 1914

With his and others help, the first harvest was successful and in order to thank them, the Pilgrims invited their new friends to a great feast lasting three days. And thus, Thanksgiving was born. (Source: History.com)

In truth, this famous thanksgiving was not original. For millennia, people have held celebrations at the end of harvest. What made this one iconic was Abraham Lincoln who declared Thanksgiving on the fourth Thursday in November as a national holiday. The story of the early settlers was told and retold and became what we think of Thanksgiving today.

Giving thanks always

Ironically, the American Indians fared terribly following their selfless generosity. Forced migration, which took place over decades, resulted in the mass genocide of Native Indians. For those who have survived, Thanksgiving is not a day of celebration but of sorrow.

Nevertheless, many tribes maintain the spirit of thanksgiving in their ceremonies and in the teaching of their children throughout the year. At the Onondaga Nation school, the week is bookended by a long, structured Thanksgiving Address. The words may vary, but the essentials remain the same.

It begins: Today we have gathered and when we look upon the faces around us we see that the circles of life continue. We have been given the duty to live in balance and harmony with each other and all living things. So now let us bring our minds together as one as we give greetings and thanks to each other at People. Now our minds are one.

(Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer)

A moment of silence is left for the children to agree.

The address then continues to give thanks for each and every aspect of creation from the clean air we breathe to the fish in the waters, the trees and healing herbs. It is long. But as Kimmerer says, why would you complain that you have so many things to be thankful for?

This beautiful video gives a little more information about the address.

And if you would like to know the whole transcript, it is available here: https://danceforallpeople.com/haudenosaunee-thanksgiving-address/

Bounty

The most positive outcome of the address is a sense of bounty. ‘You can’t listen to the Thanksgiving Address without feeling wealthy,’ says Kimmerer. It ‘reminds you that you already have everything you need.’

Thanksgiving need not be saved for a special holiday or in response to a bumper harvest. The natural world gives of itself every day and we are the beneficiaries. In return, we should give it thanks and our protection.

Such an outlook is a refreshing and chastening one for the Western world and our consumer society. People often talk of what they lack, but we seldom remember to celebrate all that we have.

Personal thanks

This year has certainly been an interesting one. On Thanksgiving proper, Mariia took the opportunity to thank us for giving her a home away from danger. My husband and I were touched, but we both feel that she has only added to our lives and not taken anything away.

And that’s the thing with gratitude. When we are truly thankful for what we have, life continues to enrich us. When we feel abundance, we are more inclined to share.

Grateful to be all together – Giff, Nancy, Mum, me, Jeff and Mariia Image: Giff Smith

A Breath of Fresh Air

On Monday, when my friend arrived on my doorstep like a leaf blown in by the wind, I asked if she had cycled through the inclement weather. ‘No,’ she said simply, shaking the drops of rain from her waterproof jacket, ‘I walked. I just felt like I needed some fresh air.’

November leaves Image: Hannah Domsic on Unsplash

I was impressed. Outside, the wind was whirling; rain hurling itself upon the windows. Yet, I also knew that she had a point. November is seldom viewed as a time to enjoy the outdoors, but perhaps it should be.

A blustery day

Sitting inside, perhaps with the heating on, the air quickly becomes stale. Artificial light, to combat the gloomy skies without, is harsh on our eyes. Through attempting to overcome the ‘unpleasant’ conditions outside, we often make equally unpleasant conditions within if we don’t spend at least part of the day in the natural world.

That same day, I was suffering horribly from brain fog – a sort of listless state where one’s brain literally feels like it is shrouded in a heavy mist. Clear thinking is impossible and a headache hovers at the edges. Reflecting on my friend’s brave venture through the elements, I wondered if a blast of fresh air might help me. So, I took the dog out to the back garden, wrapped myself up well and sat in the shed with the door wide open to throw her ball.

We live at the top of a hill on the South Downs, so the wind has no obstacle before my back garden. At times, I thought the doors would be taken off their hinges or that Hermione might be lifted into the air. The sheer noise of the wind was deafening. But it was also exhilarating.

This is what the trees look like where I live. They have given up trying to stay upright.
Image: Khamkeo Vilaysing on Unsplash

Forty-five minutes of its buffeting left Hermione exhausted and happy and me completely free of my fog. The wind’s crazy, tousling madness had blown my lethargy clean away.

Learning to love the inclement

As the week progressed, these conditions continued, and I had to take the dog to the park and to exercise in the garden. Properly dressed, I discovered to my delight, that these expeditions into the rather wild elements were far from miserable. In fact, they were simply exhilarating.

For most of my life, November has been the month I dreaded: the dark annexing more and more of the day; damp and cold insinuating itself into every crevice. It was simply to be endured until the more festive month of December. But this year, I am seeing its virtues.

I am not the only one. John Clare’s poem, ‘November’ is a wonderful homage to this unpredictable and wild month. Below is a segment of the poem: 

Sybil of months, and worshipper of winds,
I love thee, rude and boisterous as thou art;
And scraps of joy my wandering ever finds
Mid thy uproarious madness—

I too have found ‘scraps of joy … mid thy uproarious madness’, because being in these elemental conditions awakens something elemental in ourselves. A student of mine said that he likes nothing better than walking in nature in torrential rain. I now think I know why.

Weathering the storm

When my sister’s children were young, she lived some distance from the school and so took them there by car. My niece was about ten years old when she first walked to school in the rain. She thought it was brilliant.

Standing firm through the raging sea. Porthcawl lighthouse.
Image: Marcus Woodbridge on Unsplash

I’m not suggesting that we trudge through rain at every opportunity (and certainly not without appropriate gear) but dealing with literally stormy weather can help us learn to deal with the metaphorical kind. Resilience, like everything else, is learned. We cannot acquire it overnight. Through introducing ourselves to more manageable difficulties, surviving or even thriving through them, we adapt to change and complications more readily. This is at the heart of the Wim Hof cold method. When you can sit in an ice bath for several minutes, there is probably not much than will faze you.

Further, tackling difficult conditions reminds us that life is difficult. We should not expect some ideal that is far from reality. Which then begs the question: What is ideal?

Perception is all

What is perfect for you is unlikely to be perfect for me. My illness means that temperatures over 70 degrees cause me to melt and my faculties to go into sleep mode; for others, it is approaching the sublime.

Further, it is the way that we perceive that colours our judgment. We, as humans, tend to view rain, wind and cold as bad weather. As the brilliant writer, Henry Beston points out, that is our mistake. Nature has no interest in our categories. When considering the more ‘negative’ elements in nature, he says, ‘It is true there are some grim arrangements. Beware of judging them by whatever human values are in style. As well expect Nature to answer to your human values as to come into your house and sit in a chair.’ (The Outermost House)

We are in nature and of nature and learning to accept our rather microscopic position in the cosmos is generally advisable for good mental health. We no more control the weather than King Cnute managed to control the waves. Far better to acknowledge our place than rage against it.

Indeed, if we can accept things for what they are rather than what we want them to be, we can often see beauty and find joy in even the most stormy weather.

Today, the wind has died down and the sun is brilliant. I loved our trip to the park and sitting, warming in the sun. It won’t last, of course, but I shall enjoy it while it does. And later? I shall put on my warm coat and wellies and enjoy that day’s manifestation.

Be more dog!

Living with a little furry friend has been an enlightening experience and the more I ponder on what a dog brings to my life, the more I realise that they are the ultimate teachers. Forget all the self-help manuals, the life-style magazines and podcasts. All that is necessary for a successful and contented life is to found in the behaviours of our canine friends. For the world to be a kinder and happier place, we should do one thing: be more dog.

Hermione in the garden Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Keeping your needs small

So much of our lives are spent in acquiring things that we don’t really require and exhausting ourselves in the process. Of course, everyone enjoys a little luxury now and then, but if we take a cue from our four legged friends, we will see that what we actually need is very little indeed : a secure home, regular, healthy meals, exercise, lots of affection and a nap when we’re worn out. I appreciate that even the above is not available to everyone, but if we have the benefit of the above, perhaps we can spare a little time and money to ensure that it is there for others too.

Dogs do not require designer gear or cupboards full of toys. They take what they find and make them into forms of entertainment. Hermione has had more fun with a flower pot (which she rather annoyingly obtains by removing the plant within) than any number of high tech gizmos. And of course, a ball. Every dog needs a ball.

An old cup, a ball and a hole. Doggy heaven.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A healthy routine

Dogs and humans need plenty of exercise. Hermione has about two hours a day of walk and garden play plus anything else she can wangle. (I tried to wear her out once, but after four and a half hours outside, gave up!) Since I am unable to take her on long rambles on the Downs, I take her to the puppy park, where she can run and I can sit if needed. This time of year, the weather is seldom kind, yet we both benefit from the rush of fresh air and being immersed in natural surroundings. For Hermione, that means endless opportunities to sniff and explore the tree-lined perimeter; for me, it means time to watch the play of light across the sky and observe the ever-changing configurations of the clouds.

More often than not, friends arrive to share news. The dogs run around, or get fussing from other humans or snuggle on laps. Their owners reconnect with the world – for some this may be their first or only social interaction – but for everyone it is a period without phones, or tasks or diaries. We are there with our dogs and that is all we have to concentrate on for that hour.

A greater luxury still is the walks I can take on holiday, deep in woodland and ‘far from the madding crowd’. The level, even walks mean that I can walk further. With no traffic nearby, Hermione can range freely.

Taking a brief rest after trying to walk a little too far. Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat

A controlled diet

Hermione, like most active spaniels, has a good appetite, so we have to be careful to feed her just what she needs and no more. We have a local butcher who provides her with the best dog food (at a very reasonable price) and with her dry food at night, all her nutritional needs are met. She eats her vegetables and drinks water.

Sadly, I have not yet managed to control my diet quite as well. Life without caffeine seems too hard and life without the odd sweet treat unbearable. However, I know that my body would thank me for such discipline.

Love and loyalty

There is a reason for the phrase, ‘A man’s best friend is his dog,’ because no human being could display the level of love and loyalty that a dog does. But perhaps we could try.

Hermione expresses nothing but joy every time that you return to her life (even is it is just after going to the bathroom). And who doesn’t like feeling loved? Though she makes no complaint when you leave her for a while, she waits patiently for your return and holds no grudge for you ‘abandoning’ her for an hour or two.

Whether you have just gone up the stairs to fetch something, or needed to go out to a place where dogs are not allowed, she waits eagerly for your return.

A dog’s capacity for forgiveness is also exceptional. Being a small dog, who routinely gets tangled in my legs and who, I’m sorry to say, I sometimes tread on, she is endlessly forgiving. She may give a look that says, ‘Why did you do that?’ but a pat or a belly rub soon reassures her that it was an accident and you meant no harm. If we could show such a level of forgiveness for other’s mistakes and foibles, the world would surely be a better place.

Sometimes you just need a nap

Unlike many dogs, Hermione is not especially good at sleeping through the day. There are far too many adventures to be had. However, when she is tired, she takes a nap. We can learn much from a dog’s sense of work/life balance. When we are working, we should approach it will vigour and enthusiasm; when we need to rest and recover, we should. I know that our world frowns on such indulgences, but we are only kidding ourselves that we are productive when we are exhausted. With fatigue being such a large element of my life, I am all too aware of how just plain badly I function when I should be resting. If I listen to my body, however, take a short spell to fully relax and start again, everything gets done efficiently and well.

Snoozing on her cushion Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Of course, there are some doggy behaviours that are perhaps best avoided and I’m sure you know the ones I mean. Sexually active dogs make teenagers look restrained and aggressive dogs can be scary (though more often than not, their aggression stems from mistreatment rather than an innate tendency to violence).

Those aside, the dogs I know are friendly and welcoming, eager for attention, curious and energetic. They live in the moment without effort – a feat that Zen masters take years to attain. Perhaps of all their traits, this is the most wonderful. Dogs find joy in every aspect of their world – living with neither worry for the future nor regret for the past. If nothing else, surely this is worth emulating.

Heaven is in the Highlands

As you leave the Lowlands and enter the Highlands, the landscape becomes more elemental. Rolling, cultivated hills are replaced with bleak moorland interlaced with fiercely running streams and tiny waterfalls. At the roadside, the hewn pink and grey granite is visible, great slabs of pre-history.

The landscape takes on the strange geometry of a turtle’s back; small mounds intersected by pathways worn by water. The thought of breaking down is terrifying, for there is no shelter here, only the rust red bracken and heather low to the ground.

Yet, proceed a little further north and it changes once again. Replacing the barren hills are now endless forests wearing their autumn hues: flaring copper beech trees; pale gold birch leaves fluttering against their ghost-white trunks; ranks of pine in every shade of green. The colours rivalling Joseph’s dream-coat.

Autumn colours Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

And overlooking all are the mountains, the Cairngorms.

There are many beautiful landscapes in this country of ours, yet this, in its wildness, is by far our favourite and worth the fifteen hours of driving it takes to reach.

Arrivals

We arrived late on Saturday, ready to relax and enjoy our visit. Sadly, the cottage we’d booked fell well below expectations. It looked as though it had been furnished from a charity shop in the 1970s, had views on two sides of a garage and outbuilding and stairs so steep and dangerous that my husband decided we had to leave on the morrow. I’m not great with stairs at the best of times and these would be precarious indeed.

We found another hotel and were delighted to have done so. It called itself a ‘Wildlife Hotel’, which I thought was just marketing speak for being in the Cairngorms National Park. But they were true to their name. There were daily nature based activities, a library filled with books on birds and the local wildlife, and a lobby that played birdsong rather than muzak. Perfect.

A brambling Image: Lasse Nystedt

Sharing the hotel with a group of keen ornithologists made us more aware of the birds we saw. I think I spotted a flock of bramblings, above, at the Clava Cairns. They were tiny little things feasting on the beech nuts that had fallen from the trees. But whatever their name, they were adorable.

Visiting the reindeer

One of the reasons we decided to visit at this time of year was that there would be reindeer in the paddock. The Cairngorms contains the only herd of wild reindeer in Britain, but sadly, they live high on the mountains for most of the year. In the autumn and spring (the rutting and birthing seasons), however, a few are selected to come down to the paddocks where those who are unable to hike the hills can see them.

They are gentle, shy beasts and though we were unable to walk among them, we were given a very close view.

A male reindeer Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

As they were being fed at the time of our visit, we asked the herder about his job and the reindeer. It was a very personalised visit, as we were the only ones there!

Water, water everywhere

Across from the reindeer centre is Loch Morlich – a huge expanse of water fringed with woodland. Walking some of its perimeter in the fragrant pine forest is a glorious, multi-sensory experience. The wind whispers through the trees; the pine exudes its clean scent; the ground beneath crinkles as one pushes through the fallen leaves; the air tastes fresh as chewing gum and the view is a magical combination of leaf and moss and sparkling water.

Forest bathing has long been practised as a way to find peace. For me, the enclosure of the trees not only brings a spiritual calm but takes me right out of the world itself into a timeless, mystical place. Time simultaneously collapses and expands. There is only that moment and that moment is part of eternity.

It was perhaps less of a spiritual experience for the dog, but she loved it all the same. In her exuberance, she raced through the trees, jumped in the burns, ran circles on the beach and chased the ducks into the water until she realised quite how cold it was. This is doggy heaven too.

Jeff and Hermione at Loch Morlich
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The water runs down from the mountains, but often from the sky. We managed to avoid the wet weather and only experienced a few, light showers. Yet, rain aside, what the water brings is magnificent. Perhaps getting a little wet now and then is not such a great price to pay.

On the left, rain so fine that it is barely visible. In the centre, the river at Carrbridge and on the right one of the many burns that are everywhere.

A little culture

Though there is not much that can lure us away from nature, any cultural stops in nature are just fine. We revisited Culloden, a place of such sadness that it emanates from the very soil. Having dutifully wandered the modern and well presented museum, we caught the tail end of a guided walk. The leader was young and exceptionally well informed and made the whole tragic tale of the Jacobite rebellion finally come clear.

Jeff then found a Highland mystery set in the area, The Bookseller of Inverness , which further explained the consequences to the Highlands of that fateful battle. It is a gripping read that helps fill out the dry facts of history.

A trip to the Highlands is not complete without a castle, so we signed up to a walk led by a heritage guide to visit the newly restored Blairfindy Castle. It’s more of a fortified house than a castle, but fascinating all the same. Today it is used as a sanctuary for birds and bats, with boxes nestling in the ancient walls. I love that its purpose now is to protect nature rather than repel raiders.

Blairfindy Castle in the sunshine
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Friendly faces

No trip is enjoyable if the locals are not welcoming and the Highlands are exceptional in this regard. One is always greeted on walks and treated with kindness and friendliness in shops and restaurants. For somewhere so far removed from anything, it is a remarkably cosmopolitan place. We met folks from all over the world who married Scots or who arrived here and never went home. Due to the Clearances and the lack of economic opportunities in the area, there are sadly not so many natives, but those who have chosen to live here have done so because they love its unique qualities and that leads to a very happy population.

We also received a warm Scottish welcome from my adorable aunt and uncle, who invited us for a delicious lunch and visit on our way there. It may be a long way to drive, but it also affords us the opportunity to see relatives we might not otherwise be able to see.

Happy times with Edwin and Morag
Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat

Our return journey gave us the chance to catch up with my dear university friend, Liz, and her husband, Peter, in East Anglia. They had organised a fabulous dinner party including my old cello teacher who had moved to the area (long story!)

There are those whose ideal holiday involves sipping cocktails on a Caribbean beach; others shopping in a large city. But me? Stomping through the woods in my wellies is my idea of heaven.

On Holiday!

Greetings from the Highlands.

We’re back in our favourite place and already almost at the end of our stay. We came here with every expectation of rain and biting cold and so packed an abundance of books, art supplies and journals. We would settle in by the fire, hot chocolate in hand, and get creative.

But, as our national poet once said, “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.”

Yet, sometimes things not going to plan can be the best result of all. Bar a few rainy showers, we have been blessed with sunshine and in the glories of autumn could not possibly remain inside any longer than necessary. So, we have been out and about once again, taking our explorations one layer deeper and having wonderful adventures.

Okay, so it is cold! Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat

We have discovered new castles, heard a talk by famous a TV presenter, lived like royalty and immersed ourselves in this spectacular location.

I shall be sharing the highlights with you next week, but until then:  Mar sin leat an-dràsta : good-bye for now.

Magazine Make-Overs

Make-overs in magazines generally take the form of adapting a living space or person to make them more glamorous. But what if, instead of the make-over occurring in the pages of the magazine, it used the magazine itself?

Print quality today makes magazines far too good to waste. If, like me, you want to give your magazines a second life, here are some ideas to make the very most of them. Fortunately, many of my friends feel the same way and some of their ingenious projects are shown here.

Inspirations

My first task when taking a creative textiles course was to look at illustrations and choose the ones which spoke to me. What colours and textures did I find myself drawn towards? What moods did they express? It was a fun exercise, not least because it made me better aware of colour combinations and the effects they have on our mood.

When faced with the seemingly endless choices of paint and fabric in the world, it can be a good place to start to narrow the field. We don’t need to copy the rather curated ‘set’ of the magazine spread, but we might pick out features that we can replicate in our homes and clothes. Perhaps it will nudge us to try something new knowing that these two colours, for example, really can look good together.

Purposeful play

As most of you know by now, I am a bit of an origami fan. When I find gorgeous illustrations in a journal, I cannot help but pull them out to add to my rather capacious store of papers.

By using these papers, if the project doesn’t go well, nothing is really lost. It can go straight to recycling. If it does go well, then you have something original and beautifully illustrated to enjoy.

My favourite activity when I have a few minutes and have the urge to create is to make little boxes or envelopes. They are perfect for tiny things like paperclips, post-it notes or sweets brought by a friend. When they get tired, I make a new one!

As for envelopes, what is more perfect for seeds than those already adorned with vibrant flowers?

20 minute collage

Don’t have time to work out how to make all these? Well, perhaps the next idea will appeal. It requires absolutely no skill and only twenty minutes. I confess that I took longer due to my inability to just get on with it and my perpetual desire to doodle in the margins.

This activity is both a creative and thought provoking one. It was suggested by Julia Cameron in her book The Artist’s Way (yes, that again) as a means to bring a more playful approach to creativity. If free-writing took a visual art form , this would be it. Find a quiet moment, a few old magazines, supplements or even advertising materials and rip out anything that appeals. Next, stick them on a big piece of paper in whatever order seems most pleasing.

For artistic play, it is quick enough and satisfying enough to quell those little creative urges. As a visual free write, it reminds us of what we really love. Often life and responsibilities cause a certain amnesia in this regard. I have to work in the city, because that is where the work is etc. But if, like me, you are constantly pulling out pictures of the countryside and seascapes, perhaps it is time to think about remote working or a new job.

Our sensible brains will often block what we actually want and make us miserable. If we can find a way to discover what we really want in life, and work towards achieving it, we may well find the happiness that eludes us at the moment.

A second life

This week, my friend rather serendipitously said that she couldn’t throw away her magazines because they were just too lovely. I know what she means. Some she stores, but when she sees an especially pleasing image, she uses them to wrap old boxes and give them a new lease of life as waste paper baskets.

Pretty paper baskets Image: Jenny Timberlake

Another friend chose to use her old magazines to design a very bespoke card for her husband. I love the diorama effect with layers of depth. In addition to the gorgeous images, inside is a tiny chair made from a bottle top and wire. Who needs a present after receiving such an art work?

A very special card. Image: Jane Belcher

The delights of decoupage

What prompted me to write this post is featured below. My copy of Uppercase magazine had gardening as its theme and the pages were crammed with the most adorable images. One set were of old fashioned and imagined seed packets and I simply could not throw them away. Some were used to make cards and the majority were used to decoupage my little table. I’d found the table for a bargain £6.99 at the charity shop and knew it would be perfect for my she-shed.

All it needed was a little zip. Originally, I planned to paint it in the shed colours, but the seed packet illustrations called out for a life reimagined and longer lasting.

It took some time to cut them all out, but it was a quiet and relaxing activity. Having laid them out and arranged them as I thought best, I only needed to stick them on and give it several coats of varnish. Washi tape served as a nice edging device.

My floral table Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

An afternoon (post cutting out) was all that was needed to transform a rather sad looking table into a vibrant one. It certainly isn’t perfect, but it does always make me smile.

With all of us having to take care of our expenditures at the moment, finding ways to reuse and repurpose the things we have is a ideal way to enjoy very cheap entertainment, with little waste and hopefully, beautiful results.

Seeds

Wondering what to write about this week, I asked my husband for suggestions. ‘Seeds,’ he said and then went on the extol their miraculous qualities and how they act as a rather apt metaphor for life. Seeds? I thought. How on earth am I going to find 1,000 words to write about seeds?

My husband, a newly converted gardener, is currently fascinated by seeds. After planting vast numbers of tulip bulbs, he discovered that they can be propagated by seed. (Who knew?) He then went on to find that if you harvest these seeds, plant them and wait about three years (gardening is not for the impatient) you will get tiny bulbs. Having found that all bulbs can be grown from seed, he then deseeded my giant lilies. And here they are:

Lily seeds awaiting planting
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

If anyone would like some, let me know!

All flowering plants begin as seeds, though some will multiply from there by other methods. For example, strawberries and spider plants reproduce from runners or ‘daughter plants’, which are attached to the parent. I was delighted to discover another wild strawberry plant when weeding in the garden, and my plan is to let them take over the entire area. But overcrowding for plants and people is seldom wise, so strawberries also have berries with the seeds on the outside to give them the opportunity to disperse their seed further afield.

Here’s a little video about the life cycle of plants. It is rather cartoonish, but I confess I could have used such a clear presentation when doing O level biology. (Please skip if you know all this already!)

https://youtu.be/AcSgaUBwIn4

Free gifts

My perambulation around the garden yesterday brought lots of surprises. Seeds had clearly been having a good time exploring new parts. The rocket is incredibly successful at long distance travel and has made it from my veg patch at the far end of the back garden to the front lawn. I was delighted to find new clumps of parsley yards from where they were sown; flowers that hopped up into my raised garden planters and some that had found a location they preferred away from their original beds. Such unexpected gifts are always a joy and if you are not too fussy about keeping your garden in regimented order, it will soon decide where plants are most comfortable and will thrive. We practise a very relaxed version of forest gardening and it certainly works for us.

Autumn’s glory

To compensate for the paucity of flowering plants in this season, autumn generously offers us an alternative. Seed heads are a beautiful addition to any scene and particularly enchanting in autumn’s slanting light. Their delicate silhouettes act as an elegy to summer. For now, they are bare: mere mementoes of warmer days. But in holding the seeds for future seasons, they promise a return to colour and abundance.

Seed heads at Birling Gap Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Seed heads also make the loveliest displays. I have several in vases throughout the house and some giant allium heads woven through with tiny lights so they look like illuminated chrysanthemums. When fresh cut flowers are not in season, these make the most environmentally friendly alternative.

Feed the birds

Seed heads are a great food source for birds during the lean autumn and winter months. That said, we often tidy the garden and get rid of many of those nutritious food sources, since those ‘dead’ twiggy, stems are less beautiful (at least to some). Reading an edition of Country Living recently, I discovered that some plants we routinely cut back are great bird feeders and will thrive just as well with a spring as an autumn trim. Though this information was too late for some of my lavender, the rest is still flower heavy and I’m trying to be careful only to take out those plants whose seeds have already been eaten or dispersed.

Lavender – a feast for the birds as well as the eyes
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Harvesting seeds

Harvesting seeds could hardly be simpler. One only has to pick the plants (dry if necessary) and shake them out onto paper and transfer to a paper bag. That’s it. I like to make pretty seed envelopes for seeds to share, but just because I like an excuse to play.

This year I am drying my Indian corn kernels. My corn this year didn’t fare well. First they were assaulted by snails, then happily grew during the long, warm spell, only to be assaulted once again, this time by torrential rain and a plague of woodlice. Never mind. Such things are inevitable in gardening. Luckily, they were able to produce just enough to give me seeds for next year. I must let them dry completely then gently pick off the kernels. I’m hoping that the weather and wildlife will be kinder then.

Enough for next year’s crop
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Enough to share

Though seeds are not expensive, they are not especially cheap either – especially for more rarefied varieties as the corn above. When you gather your own seeds, there is always more than enough to go around. Last year, I gave out sunflower and corn seeds and hope they fared better than mine! Many towns will have seed swaps during the autumn, but less formal exchanges between friends is also great. Whatever knowledge you have acquired about location, soil and conditions can be passed on with the packet of seeds.

Planting seeds is an act of hope and, as any gardener will tell you, results in great joy when successful. My husband made a lovely comparison between planting seeds and life. He said, you plant so many, but only a few will make it to completion. Like all endeavours, we work hard and don’t always achieve the outcomes that we hope for. That said, when they do materialise, our labours bloom delightfully and all the effort seems worthwhile.

The Capacity for Delight

Every so often you find a phrase or quote that resonates with deep authenticity. I have found many in my reading of The Artist’s Way, but this one in particular stands out.

My grandmother knew what a painful life had taught her: success or failure, the truth of a life really has little to do with its quality. The quality of life is in proportion, always, to the capacity for delight. The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention.

Julia Cameron

It is seldom that an author bestows upon us both a beautiful concept: ‘The quality of life is in proportion, always, to the capacity for delight,’ and the means of achieving it, through the act of ‘paying attention’.

Attentive meditation

For many years now, I have been working on attentiveness both in meditation practice and in daily living. The theory that I had been struggling to master at the beginning has since flowered into understanding. What makes me happy are not the obvious things: new clothes, meals out or entertainment (though I enjoy all of these) rather it it the joy of observing life going about its business – a film reel of infinite variation. Perhaps it also explains why, despite my life going distinctly side-ways, I am more content than many who ‘have it all’.

Thinking about this yesterday, I made my morning pages an act of observation. Please forgive their roughness – it is free writing – but this is part of what a mere fifteen to twenty minutes brought:

Lovely morning, low light cloud. The salvias are little spots of frothy white in the far end of the garden. All is rich dark green after the rain, but there are wonderful splotches of colour – the red, white and pinks of the last geraniums, tiny yellow rocket flowers, a vibrant, deep red rose and our new white rose, which is thriving.

The sun has broken through and bathed the grass in golden light. H. is sitting, very attentive, waiting for our resident squirrel perhaps? The sunflower heads are now brown and forlorn, but I hope contain some nice food for the birds.

The magpies clack away to one another – they are the monarchs of the garden, cowing all the other birds. Only the large ravens threaten their reign with raiding expeditions to the table for stale biscuits and nuts.

Karen Costello-McFeat

A little rain battered, but holding on!
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Writing it down

Since following the requirement of writing morning (or afternoon) pages, I have had to make that my meditation practice too. And it works. Focusing on the page and summoning my thoughts requires absolute attention and once my general grumbles have been aired, there is room for something more delicious.

A dear friend, with whom I have corresponded since we were children, has perfected this technique of delight through observation and passes the gift on to me in her letters. Her pages, and there are several, are chock full of details. She might be writing from a comfy, fold-up chair inside her tent in Scotland or recalling a walk in the Yorkshire Dales or itemising the visitors – both floral and animal – to her garden. Her joy is contagious and encourages me to see what changes have occurred in my world. Because she gives a very intimate view of her life and interests in her letters, when we meet up, it is as if we’ve just left off a conversation. We know what is important in each other’s lives and not just the Instagrammable highlights.

If you find the idea of meditation daunting or too time consuming, a small journal entry can set you on the right path. Focussing on your feelings and observations with a morning cup of coffee is a wonderful way to begin the day. Look out the window. You might be surprised by what you see.

Picture this

My art teacher sends a daily text with a photo image. She is the most attentive of observers, seeing beauty in things we never pay much attention to. In addition to the lovely scenes from her walks and flowers from her garden, she has sent a number of shots of woodgrain this week and their natural grooves and swirls are gorgeous.

While planning this post, I went around my garden looking for interesting images. There were too many to include here, though I have included a sample above. My favourite has to be the quince. It is almost ripe and glows like a lightbulb. Even on dull days, its vivid yellow shines through.

Pendulous and golden quince
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Unlike so many things in life, the capacity for delight is freely available to everyone. Even in the most urban areas, there are gardens and parks containing a multitude of fascinating offerings. Our homes too can host such joys, though they tend to be more static.

Cultivating attentiveness in all our activities, from washing up to watching the rain dribble down the window panes, enables us to find interest and charm in the everyday.

Whether we note these moments with our smartphone cameras, a dedicated journal or only our mind’s eye, we will find that by nurturing the capacity for delight, our lives, no matter how difficult, will feel blessed.

A Well-Earned Rest

To say the last few months have been busy would be an understatement. They have been exciting, gregarious, exhilarating and exhausting. So much has happened in such a short time that my head is struggling to process it all. Unfortunately, my body is fully aware and like an overworked mule, refusing to cooperate further.

It all caught up with me at the weekend. Hermione had been badly bitten in the puppy park (she should be fine), Mariia had a wobbly over distressing news from Ukraine and well, I was running on empty. It was time to rest.

And so to bed! Image: Isabella and Zsa Fischer on Unsplash

Time to rest

We all need to schedule rest into our lives and I, like most folks, tend to forget that. And so we struggle on until no amount of caffeine or cat naps will do. We simply need to stop. With MS, this can be a little abrupt. One minute you are fine, the next your legs lose power, you feel dizzy and need to sit down before you fall. Chronic fatigue is extremely inconvenient when you have other more exciting plans. Perhaps you can stretch it a bit (as I did over the summer) but eventually it will come back to claim you.

Though I confess to failing on most points of moderating my downtime, I have maintained a very strict sleep schedule. I am always in bed by ten and up around 8.30am. Yup! Ten hours is what I need. Well, ten hours of rest at least. Sleep is not always guaranteed, but lying quietly will do me fine.

Like a koala, I am happy to sleep on any horizontal surface Image: David Clode on Unsplash

No regrets

Am I sorry that, in engineering parlance, I have tested myself to destruction? Absolutely not. I would not have missed a single day of this wonderful summer. However, I am aware that all good things must come to an end – or at least a pause.

Strangely, this hectic season has brought its own satisfactions. Bed lover though I am, I have never been quite so delighted to head upstairs in the evening as I have these last months. The gentle weight of the the duvet pressing down on me, a pillow cradling my head and relaxing dim light all feel like great luxury when you are really tired. Because when the day is filled with adventures, rest is a welcome respite. Days not so fully filled make bedtime a bore.

Unearned rest

Because the great irony is that too much free time and too much rest is bad for us. Our society is obsessed with leisure. We are encouraged to have endless days where nothing is expected of us and our every need is filled. It is the message behind all those adverts for exotic holidays, convenience foods and time-saving appliances. Have more time to yourself and you’ll be happy they say.

Heaven? Perhaps. But there’s not much to do. Image: Maarten van den Heuval on Unsplash

Except you won’t. Only poorer. Those wealthy enough to live a life of luxurious liberty are seldom content. The briefest look at the history of the leisure class would tell us this. These lives are filled with alcohol, drugs, affairs, gluttony and general bad behaviour – anything to keep the threat of boredom away. We are not designed to be idle.

Worse, those imprisoned in idleness have almost invariably bought their leisure with the price of another’s miserable labour. This is the greatest irony of all and has caused immeasurable suffering across the world. The Roman reclining on his coach being fed grapes in his centrally heated room does not have to witness the sweltering slaves below him.

The good life? Scene de banquet, fresco Herculaneum

Fortunately, our own lives do not come at such a direct human cost – though we are wise to remember that there is always a cost to someone or something; if nothing else to the earth itself.

Yet we still aim for the life of leisure, whether is it briefly – in the form of a holiday, or completely – in early retirement. We work hard, we save, we dream, but when we attain our goal, it is often different from what we expected. Perhaps we arrive at our exotic location too tired to move from the sun lounger to explore our location or perhaps our retirement brings its own question of what to do with an endless stretch of days. Or worse, when we reach it our health is too poor to enjoy it.

Rather than seeking the extremes of total work or total leisure, perhaps we should look for a balance of the two so that when we go to bed at night we are healthily tired.

Striking a balance

I do too much. I know that. Today I am in my track suit bottoms and cosy hoody because I need to rest. I’m not 100% well and hope this respite will fight off the cold that wants to overwhelm me. I need to push back and find space for repose and for myself. (A brief trip to Birling Gap yesterday to write felt as joyful as a vacation.)

I need to reinstate my yoga and breathing exercises that were side-lined with my son’s arrival and then Mariia’s. We need to insist on rest as ardently as we insist on leisure. Because we need both. Adhering to the 24/7 work culture will only result in ill-health and burn-out. Aiming for a life of leisure results in a fatuous existence.

When we have purpose in our lives and fill our days with whatever ignites our passion, whether that be helping others, work, creativity or play, we fall into bed at night satisfied at a day well lived. And if we don’t find our balance today? There is always tomorrow. But for now, I’m off for a nap.