I drew upon many years of mindfulness and meditation exercises which flowed into my mind. I gradually began to relax and become more hopeful that I could draw upon my spiritual practise to get me through this incredibly difficult situation.
I am looking out of a window on the 7th floor boardroom of an office building overlooking Saint Paul’s cathedral 50 yards away, and reflecting on the contrast between the two types of temple. One dedicated to love and devotion, and one to money.
She is still independent and currently shows no signs of dementia though she does get a little muddled at times. (I wish that is my only complaint as I age.)
I shuffle across to allow an elderly gent to sit next to me
London Bus.
He looks suitably scrubbed for an outing . . .
At some point during my childhood my mum received a facsimile edition of a medieval Book of Hours, and, under strict supervision, with only mum allowed to touch the pages of the book, she pointed out the beautiful illustrations of how medieval people spent the hours of their day on different aspects of prayer and contemplative work.
Yet in this past week I lie down and all I seem to get is emptiness, it feels like my spiritual connection has vanished. My body feels heavy.
Have you ever wondered if your day job aligns with your spiritual journey? I certainly did. For years, I believed that my spiritual fulfilment was tied to a specific type of work.
A field took my attention. It was on a hill and, to me, looked like a wave rising up from the road which then dropped down behind the hill. It had been lightly ploughed so the earth was brown and bare. As I looked at the field I felt an enormous surge within me – I could hardly breathe.
Two years ago I took the year-long course with the Spiritual Companions Trust and I discovered the importance of embedding spiritual connection in my daily life through regular practice.
My first thought was, Oh, that’s a bit inconvenient, but it’s not so bad. If I could choose a way to pass over, a heart attack is not the end of the world and it’s better than the big C or Alzheimer’s or some lingering ailment that slowly diminishes one’s life force.
