yoga for many for us is something we do to keep fit, stay mindful or relax. Most of us come to it from a sedentary lifestyle hoping it will make us flexible and athletic.

What is most often over looked is that Yoga has its foundations in a place of movement. The first yogis already squatted, sat cross legged, rolled around on the floor and looked around them. Their lives were filled with movement. No original yogi sat on a chair, hunched over a computer or phone or lay on a bed o watch tv. They were farmers, manual workers, people with regular walks that we would call a marathon.

Those first yogis were looking for additional movements that pushed them beyond their day to day movement, the requirement to sit still was used to quieten a very active lifestyle and mind and create a stillness that would normally never be there.

For me the basics of yoga have long been lost. We rock up at class with no idea of how to move, with the expectation from everyone to put out bodies into positions that were once practised by experts at, just moving.

I feel its time to go back to build foundations first, before we even consider a down dog we need to be comfortable with sitting on the floor, balancing, creating a natural core strength, walking distances on strong legs and having a strong vestibular system.

During lock down I came across something called Original Strength. If anyone is looking to peel back their yoga practise, or maybe looking to start yoga I’d suggest you look here first. I’ve been practising Yoga for over 10 years and wish I’d had this grounding from the beginning.

*Post not sponsored just something I want to share with the yoga community*


Tendons, not the Greek hero. I am not medical so these are observations and thoughts regarding my own issues which may help someone else.

History……… My feet have always been prone to rolling inwards. My Achilles was severely damaged in a freak accident. (Stacked tables I’d been sitting on toppled forwards, the whole of that weight landed on my heel).

I was unable to walk properly for 18 months following the accident and had no physio ( it wasn’t offered, I was young, and it didn’t occur to me to ask).

Roll on a few years the Achilles is tight, which has affected the calf, there is also a fair amount of scar tissue. Eventually I find a massage method (no, not that one)  to release the scar) this in turn frees up everything else.

I start to run… problems.  I do yoga….. no problems. I become interested in minimal running shoes etc no problems.

Last year I wore a flat sandal the whole summer, when the weather turned  I found an old pair of trainers, lightweight,  no heel, broad toe space. I started to wear these. The first thing I noticed, which should have screamed no at me, was the arch support. It felt wrong and horrible, but I continued to wear  them and soon it felt normal.

Over the winter and spring, after years of not being an issue, my Achilles pain returned . And now it’s worse than it ever was.

So what has happened? I did a gait review and I suspect the trainer is not zero heel, my inward pronation has retuned, and the arch of my foot is collapsing onto the arch support = weakening of the previously strong arch. This has a two fold effect, my calf is underworked due to the weakening of the arch and this is shortening the tendon which in turn has made the old injury flare into life.

Arch supports do just that, they support, they don’t  correct or strengthen the arch. The collapsed arch  weakens the heel which is now also rolling inwards, this weakens the whole musculature of the leg and  puts pressure on the Achilles.


Deep Water. Flash Fiction

Hold your breath and dive. No snorkel, no tanks. Yourself. Alone in a drift of calm. Warm. Long shafts of sunlight erasing the darkness.

Hold your Breath and dive, through shoals of silver darting fish, moving as one. An under sea murmuration.

Hold your breath and Dive.  Sand illuminated bright gold. Touch the bottom receive your prize.

Hold your breath and dive.  Into the void. Clear your mind. See the ghosts. Feel your way across  the stone and the statue and the marble plinth.

Hold your breath and dive, for pearls. Wisdom.

Hold your breath and dive. Deep Water.


I’m way past the submission date for this piece but enjoyed writing it soooo much it doesn’t matter.

Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Lock Down

Since the 23 march I’ve been working from home. Three of us, with me having to hot desk around the house, how utterly absurd.  I moved from a healthy, movement beneficial, yoga block and mat in front of the patio doors (no plug to charge the ever dwindling battery of the work lap top) to the hall desk (felt like I was in solitary confinement with obscure glass door to the left,  stairs to the right) to upstairs working on the bed. Now each day has blurred into one. I’ve taken annual leave with the hope that I’d be able to focus on something other than excel spread sheets and data. Now I know how all the furloughed/self employed unable to WFhomers feel and perhaps (and more telling) the Retirees forced to live with people 24/7 and also the ontheirowners.

Friday ..…..watched TV, played on twitter getting angry about lots of stuff, went for a walk on my own as OH wasn’t interested. When I was a kid I was always off on my bike, walking through the woods, I’d hang out with girls who had ponies and dogs and we’d walk for miles, if the pony girls wanted to canter a bridle path I’d walk to the end and holler  or whistle so they’d know where I was and there was no likelihood of my being crushed. Todays walk was around the roads. It half cleared my head but not as much as I would’ve liked.

Thursday……… a blur, possibly tv twitter and Instagram and youtube

Wednesday…….a blur, see above

Tuesday……….a blur, see above,  until I decided to check a cycle track that I could potentially use to get to work (when and if we go back). The track is pleasant enough but very quite, it meanders at the back of housing estate is tree lined and has parts which open out into  grassy areas flooded with daylight . I felt safe, but not at night in the dark or in winter. I manged 6 miles and figured if I’d cycled the roads I’d be much closer to my work place. I also had a puncture, had to phone for a pick up and then spent 20 mins outside a pub looking very suspicious.

Monday………. a blur I think I may have done some tidying.

Monday I’m back at work. There are loads of things I could’ve, should’ve , would’ve done with my time. Mehhh let this be lesson for me!

The upshot of being at home is no travel, more time in the garden and some nice walks around the footpaths that we’ve not previously bothered  to walk. OH surprised that the places don’t look like they do when he’s driving.

My greenhouse is looking fab, after years of no use filled with Horse Tail and Couch Grass, its now home to tomato plants, cut and come again salads, radishes and various bedding plants and has a nice gravel base.

And I’ve made the most of being able to buy food and flowers that I’m assuming were intended for restaurants and posh florists that can’t make use of them just now.

Today it’s on-off rain. My motivation is still on the level of Mehhh Someone’s reminded me …. This is the sole, single only time that you will have today. Don’t waste it.

Sound advice.

The Greatest Gift

Mira, waiting for a transplant that never comes.  Busy shopping gets a call, all systems go, hospital tomorrow, maybe a match. Hopes up, no food or drink for 12 hours or was it 24. she couldn’t remember, walks  across the car park wondering who’ll look after her dog,  put the bins out, water the plants, feed the fish, hand her assignment to Professor Miller. So much to do, not much time. Phones a friend, makes arrangements to hand over her keys , talks through her home, how it works, routines, likes and dislikes. Collects her belongings phones her mom,  the greatest gift.

This and that…

which is the only title I can think of in answer to ‘where have you been’ …

me:  oh doing ‘this and that’

Corny, I know.

Sometimes I think I have nothing to say, aside from ranting about Brexit and Donald Trump , which is something I don’t intend to start doing here.

So, where have  I been? Well the last outing was to the Lakes. A base in Keswick gave us the best opportunity to walk during the day and find something to do in the evening.

Most of our walks are short,  4 to 5 miles. This time we did the reverse circular walk to take in Castlerigg Stone Circle, followed by a walk to Walla Crag returning via Cat Gill.

Both routes are relatively pedestrian although we did have to warn  a couple with a baby in a back pack that the route up the side of Cat Gill was maybe a bit too steep, with lots of loose rocks in places were the path seems to have deteriorated or been washed away.

There’s one thing losing your balance  when its just yourself but not with  a small baby on your back. ( I did feel a little guilty as they looked like experienced walkers/hikers however the path in places is very steep, with no secure footholds or with only a foot width between trees and a sheer drop on to rocks below).

The weather was nice and I have a few photos which I would post here if  I could work out how to do it easily.

At night we went to the pub…. and the cinema. The Alhambra is a lovely little place, that doesn’t appear to have changed since it was built. We saw ‘Fishermans Friends’ which was ok….. I’d give it 3 out of 5. Previously we’ve seen the Lime house Golam and Bjorg v MacEnroe there.  I also picked up a copy of The Keswick Film Club leaflet which tends to have more arty and foreign language films.

So that’s what I’ve been doing…..









The look Back….. Flash Fiction.

“Stacy don’t do it…..” Carls voice trails off into oblivion as I put my foot on the first step.

“I’m telling you Stace…” By now his voice is fading. I’m on the fourth step of many, I wasn’t listening when Mr Bright and Sunny was running through his speil.

Carl is becoming smaller ,although if I’m truthful I’m not looking down. By the time I’m at the top,on the small shaky platform, Carl is just a dot.

Ms Happy tightens the harness.  I look back just before I step off the edge and smile. It’s time to go Carl.


this morning we’ve had the annual conversation which goes something like this……

Me: when are we getting the tree?

H: Not until you’ve tidied up/made space for it.

Me: ok no worries I’ll get one.

H: …….…….

This convo is repeated, quite often it gets vocal, with a few Irish expletives thrown in.

However, the good thing about the conversation today has been that I’ve sorted through a pile of CDs (and found Michael Bubles Christmas CD (the Puppini Sisters really step this cd up a notch).  I also confronted my huge pile of Decorating Magazines (posh title, glossy expensive, translates to she/her). These have been my personal art installation getting on for 10 years now, and mighty fine they looked. Most are now  on their way to the recycling centre. Why? you may ask. Well I flipped through  them and yes the featured homes are all beautiful, interesting, statement homes, however, the articles  are mostly subliminal adverts. And the products they sell are way beyond the purse of many people.

In hindsight what a waste of money!

The other upside (Mr Buble being the 1st) was that I found a back copy of Huck Magazine, which is totally the opposite to she/her and perhaps far more relevant. Of the 98 pages just 4 are set aside for advertising. I’d rather pay more for less/no advertising (womankind mag gets a thumbs up here). I hate the intrusion of adverts, of commercialism into something that should be relaxing, informative, inspiring and motivating. Many  Magazines seem to be fuelling dis-satisfaction in a world which is fragmented and losing track of it’s purpose.

Hopefully the recycled  pulp of glossy magazines will be used to create something useful for everyone.




So enjoying my new job. It’s given me some headspace and allowed me to chuck out the stuff that was toxic from my old job….Anyways heres a list of  great tunes (some nicked from fellow bloggers.. )

Gabor Szabo – Dreams

E2-E4  – Manuel Gottsching

Labi siffre  – I Got The

Faran Ensemble – Amazing Oriental Music

Oceanvs Orientalis – Tarlabasi (Be Svendsen remix)

Bedouin – Hologram

Enjoy, one love.