Embracing the ordinary (and staying alive to the extraordinary)

Trigger warning : I talk about an attempted suicide . This past week, one of the much loved teachers at the school our children attend, had a birthday. I was aware of it because of Facebook. (Yes, as a social networking tool, it is pretty awesome!) And I considered what I wanted to say to this man. These are some of the things I thought about: He partners with us to educate our children and has a hand in shaping their perceptions of the world around them. That is a very significant thing. And as a person, he is likeable and an inspiration as he seeks to continue growing and learning, has a sense of humour and engages the people around him. Our children look up to him as someone with important information to impart in a unique way that inspire them to continue the process of learning outside the classroom. He plays a significant role in the life of our school. After thinking about all of that, I came back to what I say to everyone in my circle that celebrates a birthda

My husband and I have recently watched a sci-fi series on Netflix called "Altered Carbon". We started watching because it featured (for all of 1.5 seconds!) a new bike made in Mielec, and we are ok with trying new genres. The concept is based around the fact that people could continue living, beyond a "body death" by exchanging their "sleeve" or body and inserting their "stack" (memories, intelligence, soul) into the new sleeve. Don't worry, there won't be a test on this terminology and that is all I am going to say about the series. But this concept of our bodies being interchangeable sleeves we could wear like clothes, simply to house our spirit, minds, memories etc. was fascinating and resonated with me. I have always had an unusual (though I didn't realise it was) relationship with my body. As a child, I delighted in what it could do as I climbed trees with abandon, ran fast, jumped far and pirouetted with precision. It seem

The lies of our times Yesterday I attended a coffee morning at a lovely hotel, organised by IWAK (International Women's Association of Krakow). At all their events, they invite a photographer to document the time we spend together, drinking coffee, chatting and laughing together. It is such a lovely idea. And YET, I often find photos of myself, looking completely normal and ordinary ... by which I mean: Completely lost in the moment whilst talking/ listening, eating and drinking with abandon, laughing in unselfconscious ways. My face takes on all the various stages of animation. And I never achieve the illusive "ideal" of looking effortlessly graceful. When I saw this picture of myself, I thought: "do my eyes really look that wonky?" and "I bet my Mom would love this photograph. I look happy and she'd love to see that!" So, I went ahead and sent it to her with this message:  " Yesterday we had a coffee morning with a Valentine’

Motherhood Challenge Accepted !! I was nominated to post a picture that makes me happy/proud to be a mom (yes just one photo). I'm going to tag some ladies whom are fabulous mothers and can rise up to the challenge of posting one picture of their own. If I've tagged you as one of the awesome moms, copy the text and paste it to your wall with a picture and tag more moms proud praʊd/ adjective 1 . feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one's own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated. "a proud grandma of three boys" synonyms: pleased (with), glad (about/at), happy (about/at/with), delighted (about/at/with), joyful (at), overjoyed (at/over), thrilled (at/about/by/with), well pleased (with), satisfied (with),gratified (at), content (at), appreciative (of) "Moira was a delight to her proud parents" On a rather long car journey last week I

home həʊm/ noun 1 . the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household. "the floods forced many people to flee their homes" synonyms: place of residence,  accommodation ,  property , a roof over one's head;  It has been a while since I wrote. Please allow me to explain: In July, after returning from a lovely trip to the UK with my even more lovely husband, I thought we would settle into our routine again. For us, that meant continuing Home Schooling, enjoying our beautiful bit of forest, inviting friends to stay and enjoying the daily routine of Markus leaving for work in the morning and returning in the evening. For a week, we did settle. And then the rumblings of imminent change started: Our chidren once again expressed their desire to attend a regular school.  We started investigating possible scenarios to make this happen. (After all, September was around the corner and the new school year

Cradle of civilisation means the place where civilisation began to flourish. Civilisation was able to thrive because it had what it needed. One answer on Wiki answers to the question: "What does Cradle of civilisation mean?" I have been thinking about this for quite a few days. But it has been a conscious continuation of subconscious leanings I've had for years ... Allow me to explain: On a recent, very lovely, trip to Kew Gardens, I overheard 4 remarks addressed to children that made my toes curl and my insides broil. "Don't run!" was the first, shouted after a little girl who had taken off down the path, with Mousy tucked safely under her arm. She had places to be and sights to explore with her friend. Grandpa wasn't going fast enough. The path was smooth and visibility clear. I so badly wanted to ask: "why not?". In this wide open space that invites running, exploring, undoing the chains and restrains of ci