“I must have missed this day,”
I think,
Trying to coax sugar-water,
Peanut butter,
Mashed banana
into my daughter’s sick
Rat.

I think that, sometimes.

Maybe a sick day cost me
The essential knowledge of
How to find my Right Life,
Retrieve my missing Socks, or
Live with the consequences of

Breaking someone’s heart
To save my own.

But I’m glad I got the lessons on
Boosting a Car,
Knowing True Love when it finds you,
and
Easing a Seam.

Those have come in handy.

Along with
Making a White Sauce,
Balancing my Cheque Book and

Doing the Work before going out to Play.

Although I think

They might have been
(wrong)
about that last one.

The first thing you need to know is that he doesn’t drink coffee. In fact, he secretly (or not so secretly, depending on his mood) considers my dependence upon the substance a sign of moral weakness.

So I don’t know his precise motivations for making my coffee almost every morning. It may contain an element of pity. He may do it because it is good to have a functional vertical partner for parenting purposes. He may do it to hear the sigh I make when the first sip passes my lips. And he may just do it to avoid watching the pathetic bootstrap process in which I stand in front of the stove, all implements immediately to hand, and attempt to make my coffee without first having had a cup. All I know is that most days he arrives in the bedroom, coffee in hand, milk already added.

“Proof of love?” He offers me the mug.

A couple of days ago, though, he came down to see whether I was getting up. “Is there coffee?” I asked.

“Enh,” he said. “There were only whole beans. I don’t love you that much.”

So, yesterday, one of the Big Names (that is to say, somebody whose followers run into the thousands who gets referred to a lot by the other Big Names) that I follow told the people that she follows that she didn’t grant them permission to “pitch” her on their social networks, and said that she wanted us not to post links to our blogs, because if she wanted to read them, she’d be reading them already. Note that this was not a request not to send her links directly, but not to even post them to our public streams because that is like standing on a street corner trying to get people to come into our restaurants. If she wanted the food, she’d come in, already. Then she asked, “What does this bring up in you?”

So, before I go on, let me put this in context. This is part of a wider, “Blogging is dead,” zeitgeist that seems to be developing among the well-established:

Blogging lacks intimacy. People’s posts are either generic or stop short of what they could be if only the writers weren’t feeling confined by their social context. Real writers are sending directly to the inbox, only via permission, and all this blogging people are doing (so 2010) is messing up our public spaces.

Oh. And (from another writer) if people aren’t sharing your writing, it’s probably because it sucks, and if you just keep doing it for a few more years so you’ve had enough life experience and you learn to actually write and have some ideas, then maybe it will be interesting enough for me to bother sending a link your way. (This last one was from a twenty-something online-something expert. He’s single. He travels the world solo. He doesn’t blog any more. It doesn’t meet his needs.)

What does this bring up in me??? 275 posts later I’ve got 25 subscribers and now I’m not even supposed to try and find any new readers? What it brings up in me? I suck. Nobody wants to read my writing. If I were any good, I’d be “successful” by now. How dare I continue to pollute the world with my ideas??? I’ve been compared to a huckster flogging bad food that she crosses the street to avoid. I felt sucker punched. I felt like throwing up.

So, yeah. It brought stuff up.

And then (after several minutes of “I suck” angst) I thought, “How dare she tell me that I’m not allowed to offer my ideas to the world in a public forum? One in which she can make me disappear with a single click of the mouse. If she needs quiet that badly, why is she following all of us???”

The thing is, she writes about non-violent communication and boundaries.

Meditate. Breathe deeply. Talk it out for several hours. Non-violent communication and boundaries. She has the right to ask for something to meet a perceived need in herself. I have the right to say, “No.” I don’t even have to justify my, “no,” but in this case, I will. She has it entirely within her control whether she sees my public posts or not. I don’t have to do anything to change that. In my perception, she has made up a rule about public behaviour, and then applied it to the world around her, and then told us that we are rude for breaking it. I think that her asking me (us) to change my (our) (arguably perfectly reasonable, possibly even intended) behaviour for her comfort crosses a boundary into a presumed intimacy. THIS is why I’m so upset. At least, it is my best guess of why I’m so upset. I’m sure that several hours of therapy could add layers upon layers of upsettedness, but I’ve already spent an entire day on this, and I need to move on now. (This has spawned another entire post about whether blogging is, in fact, dead, or whether some of the super-bloggers, having already reaped its rewards, are maybe not in the best position to declare what the rest of us should be doing… but I digress.)

My online writing and social media use meets some of my needs for social and intellectual connection. I want to talk about strange esoteric things and explore challenging intellectual constructs. I don’t have employment in any of the careers I was trained for. I have three kids. I live in a rural community, which means that I have lots of access to personal interactions, that they know me at the post office, and that the new school principal already knew what my son’s extracurricular interests were. I’m pretty happy with my life. But it does somewhat limit my opportunities to stay up drinking beer and talking about… y’know. Grad school pub stuff. I get my grad school pub stuff by meeting strangers on the internet and striking up a conversation… like in grad school, but with less hand waving. And less beer. And less hand-waving-beer-sloshing. If they (the friends I haven’t met yet) aren’t sharing their links, I will never have the chance to meet them. And if I don’t share my links, my poor little baby ideas will sit here languishing, unread and unloved. Poor ideas. This makes me sad.

Fly little ideas. Make friends! Find other ideas! Make new ideas. (I kind of live in a universe where ideas have form, and it is my responsibility to nourish them the same way I do plants and pets.) And if you don’t want to see my ideas, please look somewhere else, rather than asking me to shut up, no matter how politely you do it.

‘K. Thanks. Bye.

Ha ha, right. Seriously? I have gotten to the point that I resent the way that the entire month of December has become eaten by the consumption monster, and the ways in which I got sucked into it. I’m tired of this conversation that starts around Dec 3: “Are you ready yet?” I flurried for the entire month, kept saying, “This is good enough,” and then going back out into the fray for one more round. In the end, my youngest summed it up beautifully. On Christmas Eve, I overheard him say to Auntie (that would be my sister) on the phone, “Oh, no. We don’t need Santa to come. We’ve got plenty of presents.” And I turned around and looked under the tree, and he was right.

And some time in the middle of the day the next day, the kids ran out of steam, and everything after that was superfluous. Let us have hope that I have learned something from this.

On the plus side, I did not blow the budget, and there is not a pile of scary bills waiting in the mailbox. And hopefully, I will come up with an actual New Year’s post sometime before February.

…except when it isn’t. Me

This morning a tree fell on the power lines down the road from my house. It was raining, and dark, and generally unpleasant outside. But within an hour of my awaking, power was restored, and all was good. Flicker, flicker. Beep, beep. Whirrrrr…

See those power lines? Can you believe that I mostly complain about them because they wreck the view? First world problem, much?

My daughter and I had to run to town for exciting errands (dentist and banking. Whee!) And while we were there, we stopped at Tim Horton’s (like ye would.)

It seemed like all the guys (and they were mostly guys) who keep our roads clear, and our power working, and our trees off our highways were there getting coffee… She isn’t normally in Tim Horton’s at that time on a weekday, and she said, “Who are all these people in the workvests?”

I said, “These are the people who make your world run magically, so that the water in your house works, and the roads get fixed when they get holes in them, and the traffic lights are still standing after a big storm and we almost never have to worry about any of those things.” And then I said to one of the NS Power guys, “Hey, did you guys fix my power last night?” And he said, “oh, it should be on by now…” And I said, “Oh, it was on when I left home. I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate the fact that you guys go out in the middle of the night in the rain to fix it.” And he smiled. And said, “Thanks. I don’t hear that very often… no, really. Thanks.” And I smiled, too.

Also, sign up for a letter.

And then I thought, “To whom would I write?”

And then I thought, “I bet that the people who read my blog would like to get a real letter.”

And thus I decided that next year, I will mail one letter every week. A paper letter! One that is written for one person only. So, if you would like to receive one of my weekly paper letters, leave me a comment here, and send three questions to seonaid at thepracticaldilettante.com along with a physical address at which a letter could reach you. I will send you one! (At some point in 2012. First 52 takers.)

The volunteers who dedicate their time and energy to make NPN the outstanding resource it is also spend countless hours informing and inspiring others on their personal blogs. To close out 2011, the NPN volunteers have come together to provide you with some valuable reading material. Each volunteer has selected either their most viewed post of 2011 or their favorite post and shared the link here. Please take a few moments to visit each post. Our intention is to expand our reach as bloggers and informed parents and parents-to-be who are still growing as we move through our own journeys. Each volunteer has provided links to other social media sites where you can follow them as well.

We hope you enjoy reading these posts as much as we enjoyed writing them. We are always looking for new volunteers so please, contact us if you are interested. Just a few hours per month can help other mamas in a huge way!

Abbie at Farmer’s Daughter shares her Christmas Cookie Swap Blog Hop, which is her fourth annual virtual cookie swap and most popular post of the year. Please stop by and link up your favorite holiday recipe until Dec. 31. You can find Farmer’s Daughter on Facebook and Twitter.

Adrienne from Mommying My Way shares Fear vs. Faith, one of her favorite posts about how often living a life of faith can look like a life of fear, but the two are really quite different. You can also find Mommying My Way on Facebook.

Alicia of Lactation Narration retells the story of her oldest daughter’s 5 years of nursing and weaning in her favorite post of 2011, The Weaning Party. You can find Lactation Narration on Facebook and Twitter.

Amy of Toddler In Tow shares Finding My Mommy-Zen, her most viewed post of 2011. In this post, she shares her desire to balance her own self-esteem by choice in order to parent with peace and compassion. You can also find Toddler In Tow on Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter, and follow Amyables (Amy W.) on Google + and Ravelry.

Arpita of Up, Down, and Natural shares one of her most popular posts titled Reflections. This is a beautiful look at the type of mother she wants to be. You can find Up, Down, and Natural on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

Charise of I Thought I Knew Mama shares Why Do Children Have More Food Allergies Than Ever Before?, her most viewed post of 2011. This post explains the shocking info that one unsuspecting mother discovered when she started researching why her daughter had a violent allergic reaction to eggs. This is a must read post for ensuring the health of your family. You can also find I Thought I Knew Mama on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and Stumbleupon.

Christine of African Babies Don’t Cry shares The Best First Food for Babies, one of her favourite posts of 2011. This well-researched post delves into the healthiest and most nutritious food to feed your baby. You can also find African Babies Don’t Cry on Facebook, Twitter, Google + and Pinterest.

Cynthia of The Hippie Housewife shares Gentle Discipline for Toddlers, her most viewed post of 2011. This post describes five gentle discipline tools for parenting toddlers. You can also find The Hippie Housewife on Facebook, Google +, and Pinterest.

Darcel of The Mahogany Way shares how Babywearing Is A Way of Life one of her favorite post of 2011. This post showcases some beautiful woven wraps that she has purchased, traded, borrowed, and sold over the years. Darcel also talks about the benefits of babywearing from the newborn through toddler stage. You can also find Darcel{ The Mahogany Way} on Facebook, Twitter, Her Community for Mothers of Color, and Pinterest.

Dionna of Code Name Mama shares 50 Healthy Snack Ideas for Kids Plus Fun Serving Suggestions, her most viewed post of 2011. Most of these snacks are quick to fix and portable, so you can pack them to send with your child on play dates, at preschool, or to just have handy in the refrigerator for when your child wants to grab a bite to eat “all by himself.” You can find Dionna on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and YouTube.

Erica at ChildOrganics shares a post that is not only close to her heart, but also her most viewed post for 2011 titled Attachment Parenting in the NICU. This post shares her top 10 tips for parenting should you find yourself with a baby in the NICU. You can also find Erica on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

Gretchen of That Mama Gretchen shares her personal experience of returning to work, expressing milk, and the ups and downs in between in her 2011 most viewed post, Mama’s Milk. You can also find Gretchen on GFC, Blog Lovin’, Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

Isil of Smiling like Sunshine shares how to make an autumn tree using pumpkin seeds, her most popular post in 2011. This post features a lovely craft activity that you can do with your kids! You can also find Isil on Facebook and Twitter.

Jennifer of Hybrid Rasta Mama shares 80 Uses For Coconut Oil, her most viewed post of 2011. This comprehensive post provides background information on the benefits of coconut oil as well as outlines 80 uses for it. You can also find Hybrid Rasta Mama on Facebook, Twitter, Google +, and Pinterest.

Jennifer of True Confessions of a Real Mommy shares her most popular post of 2011, Weekly House Blessing (Otherwise Known as Cleaning Once a Week). This post outlines a once per week cleaning routine for busy moms. You can also find Jennifer on Twitter.

Joella, the mama behind Fine and Fair, shares An Unusual Gripe with Bebe Gluton, one of her most popular posts of 2011. In it, she discusses the controversy surrounding a “breastfeeding doll” and offers her take on the gender role implications of dolls in general. Fine and Fair can also be found on twitter and facebook.

Julia of A Little Bit of All of It shares the story of how her co-sleeping relationship ended with her daughter, her most viewed post of 2011. This post shows how her daughter transitioned to her own bed on her 2nd birthday and the emotions involved for her mom. You can also find A Little Bit of All of It on Facebook, Twitter, Google +, and Pinterest.

Kat at Loving {Almost} Every Moment shares True Blessings: White Noise and Grandparents, her most viewed post of 2011. In this post, Kat talks about how she maximizes getting sleep and how grateful and blessed she is to have her parents be so involved in helping and spending time with her kiddos.

Kelly of Becoming Crunchy shares That Cup Does What?, her most viewed post of 2011. This post is one of a series of reviews and information on switching to all natural menstrual products – having heard so many different options and recommendations, Kelly decided to give a whole bunch of them a try and pull all the reviews together in one week for anyone interested in making the switch. This post in particular covers the ins and outs of the Diva Cup. You can also find Becoming Crunchy on Facebook, Twitter, Google + and Pinterest.

Kristin of Intrepid Murmurings shares a popular post from 2011, something she and her husband made for their girls for Christmas, great for open-ended play and construction: Handmade Tree Blocks. You can also find Kristin on Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest.

Lani of Boobie Time shares Helping a Fellow Breastfeeding Mom, her inspiration for starting to blog. This post discusses the importance of fellow moms supporting each other and some tips on having a successful breastfeeding relationship.

Laura at WaldenMommy: Life Behind the Red Front Door writes about finally entering “spring” when her child with special needs begins preschool. After battling post-partum mental illness (post tramatic stress disorder) after the preterm birth of her third child, she finally begins to feel healthy and whole again in “It’s Fall, Ya’ll-Again.”

Lauren of Hobo Mama shares On not having an AP poster child, her (OK, second) most viewed post of 2011. Lauren’s first child shook her certainty that attachment parenting meant babies never cried and toddlers grew independent — and that’s all right, too. You can also find Hobo Mama on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and Pinterest.

Luschka of Diary of a First Child shares Lactivism, Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding and Mothers at War, one of her most viewed posts of 2011. This post discusses how the breastfeeding/bottle feeding debate causes a division between mothers, leading to the alienation of women and babies, while divisive companies prosper. You can also find Diary of a First Child on Facebook, and Twitter.

Mandy at Living Peacefully with Children shares how With Privilege Comes Responsibility, one of her most viewed posts of 2011. This compelling post explains her strong felt desire to stand up for those less privileged. You can also find Living Peacefully with Children on Facebook.

Melissa of Vibrant Wanderings shares a Montessori-Inspired Checklist for Choosing Toys, her most popular post of 2011. The article outlines some important Montessori principles and how they relate to children’s toys, translating that into some simple guiding principles. You can also find Melissa on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and Pinterest.

Melissa of White Noise shares Modern Day Wet Nurse, her most viewed post of 2011. In this post, Melissa shares the benefits of human breast milk and human milk sharing. You can also find Melissa at Mothers of Change.

Momma Jorje shares Amniocentesis – What is it *really* like?, one of her most viewed posts of 2011. This open and honest series offers not only the technical process of amniocentesis, but also the emotions involved in awaiting (and receiving) the procedure and a diagnosis. Momma Jorje can also be found on Facebook.

Moorea of MamaLady: Adventures in Queer Parenting shares Fluoride: Another Reason Breast Is Best, her favorite post of 2011. This post provides research on the harmful effects of fluoride in drinking water for babies and toddlers and ways to limit fluoride consumption in your home. You can also find MamaLady on Facebook and Twitter and her Parent Coaching Site.

Rachael at The Variegated Life is Calling the Muse in her most viewed post of 2011. In this post, she describes how she uses ritual to help her tap into her creative spirit. You can also find Rachael on Twitter and The Variegated Life on Facebook.

Rebekah and Chris from Liberated Family shares Using Cloth In a Disposable Society, their favorite post of 2011. This extensive post provides a lot of information regarding the varied uses of cloth as well as the many benefits. You can also find Liberated Family on Twitter.

Sarah at Parenting God’s Children shares her most viewed post: Confessions of a Breastfeeding Advocate: I Couldn’t. She confesses her struggles with breastfeeding her daughters, but shares why she’ll continue the good fight. You can also find Sarah on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

Seonaid of The Practical Dilettante offers a science- and reverence-based meditation on The Living Earth, her most viewed post of 2011. This meditation was originally written for Earth Day, but it provides a way to reconnect with your place in the living breathing planet at any time of year. You can also find Seonaid on Facebook, Twitter, and Google +.

Shannon at Pineapples & Artichokes shares I Recommend (But Moira Likes This Book Too), her most viewed post of 2011. This post is a review of a wonderful book that talks about all the different ways that families can be made up, along with some of why this topic is so important to her family.

Sheryl at Little Snowflakes shares her experiences with tandem nursing in Tandem Nursing – The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, her most viewed post of 2011. You can also find Sheryl on Twitter.

Stay tuned for some amazing posts from all of these tremendous bloggers in 2012!

“It’s not that cold,” she said. That’s glacial meltwater, but she was comparing it to Lake Superior, which hovers at a cool 4 degrees Celsius. I guess that when you get that close to freezing, the feet can’t tell the difference.

Then I turned around and saw my son doing his very best impression of a snarly teenager:

“I will acknowledge,” he said, grudgingly, “that it is very, very, very, very, [he went on like this for some time]… OK.”

“Would it be better than OK, if we hadn’t gotten lost in the swamp and bitten by mosquitoes and gotten our feet wet?” I asked.

He looked at me. “But we did all those things. So that question is not relevant.”

Forever, this will be my memory of:

Lake Louise. Lost. In the swamp. Between the parking lot and the lake. With a snarly near-teen. Go me.

Moral of the story: Sometimes it’s best just to follow the crowd.

November, I believe, is the cruellest month. I usually spend it curled up under blankets, hiding from the world, dragging myself from place to place when I must. There was one notable month of my life in which my sister had to drag me out of bed every morning to go to my classes. Every day she came to the door of my room. “Are you going to school?”

And I said, “We-e-e-elllll…”

And she said, “What if I made you breakfast?”

And I said, “Maybe… a toasted tomato sandwich…”

And every morning she made me breakfast, and stood me on my feet, and sent me out to school. In my early 20′s. My younger sister. (Thanks, sister.)

We call this Seasonal Affective Disorder. I am very tired. The world has lost its lustre. All about me is bleak and grey. In years that it was at its worst, I always thought it would last forever.

But I want to unpack that a little bit. I am tired in November because it is dark. It is cold. All about me really is bleak and grey. The season has changed. It is the time for curling up, retreating, hibernating, if you will. Do we say that bears have Seasonal Affective Disorder when they go to bed for four months?

No. It’s the “disorder” part that is the problem here. We have built a world that doesn’t even allow sabbath, let alone entire seasons of retreat. There is NOT something inherently wrong with me. My body works the way it is supposed to. When it gets dark and cold, it shuts down, slowly…

And I am tired, and it is time to go to bed, three hours after the sun goes down. Which makes it 7:15, in November. The children come to my room for stories and then tuck me in before bed. For me, the solution to Seasonal Affective Disorder is not drugs, or light therapy, or even St. John’s Wort (although some of those things help, a little bit.) For me, at least, it is to do less. It is to Go To Bed. To luxuriate in this down time. To revel in these heavy foods, and savour warm drinks, and to finally read the books I never get around to during beach season. And when I do get up to move, (which is easier, since I went to bed at 7:15) it is to do so with joyful intent, not with grim determination. This is the only “treatment” I have ever found effective.

There will be more summers. There will be more springs. It will not always be so dark, so cold, so grey… So November.

When I talk about story, I refer to the lines of meaning, the patterns of the universe that are perpetuated by the telling and retelling. As the conscious manifestations of the local area, we are the intentional tellers of stories. But we get it backwards, because we forget that we are the story keepers, and the stories begin to tell us.

From Thomas King, I learned The Truth About Stories, when he told me (and the rest of Canada) in his Massey lectures, “The Truth About Stories is, that’s all we are.” As you unlayer yourself, you are a sequence of identities, each one of which contains narrative and story. You are a mother, and that comes with expectations. You are a daughter, you are a son, you are a straight, or queer, or questioning person, an accountant, a doctor, or an artist. Each of these identities that you might seize upon has language attached to it. We don’t get to use language without all that language implies.

Because the truth about stories is…

…that they tell us. And then we become trapped, and enmeshed in the stories that we were trying to tell. That we started out as the keeper of the story, and the story becomes the keeper of us. That one of the things that we were trying to do was find out what it means to be a mother, a daughter, a straight person, a queer person… What does it mean to be this kind of manifestation in the world? Stories are supposed to be tools that we carry down: These are the ways that other people have tried and investigated, and found out, “This might work.” And we mistake ourselves deeply when we hold those stories so tightly to ourselves that we forget that we are telling the story and the story is not telling us.

From my queer theory, Race, Culture, and Schooling professor, Dan Yon, I learned to pay attention to my reading practices. This means that when I catch the story telling me how to respond to something I read, I am to step outside that story, step outside that identity, and engage with the story I am currently being told, rather than responding from the position of the story I already assume to be true.

From the Buddhists, I learned to doubt my stories, to recognize that the voice in my head that says, “You will never be anything, you will never amount to anything, no one wants to hear what you have to say,” is Not Me. It is not True. The story, “You’re brilliant and fabulous and wonderful and everybody will throw showers of riches upon you,” is also Not Me. And not True.

The only thing that is true is stepping forward, and stepping forward, and stepping forward again. Breathe in. Breathe out.

A long time ago, I mentioned the tragedy of human consciousness, the thought arrived at while staring at my cat and reading Schopenhauer. Somehow I came up with a funny story about reading Schopenhauer, but I diverted from my initial aim. Allow me now to come back to it. Because here is what I see as the tragedy of human consciousness:

We can imagine the future, but we cannot predict it.

We spend our entire lives trying to convince ourselves that other than that is true. That if only we could find the right story, the right line, everything will become clear, our future will be laid out in front of us, and all of our uncertainties and terrors will be washed away. This becomes tragedy because we are so caught up in our own terror that we have to impose our false certainty on the world, and people, and the animals and plants around us. We stop being the story keepers and become the story told. We become enmeshed in the story. Enmeshed, not in trying to find out whether the story is true, but in trying to prove that the story is true, because that would alleviate our discomfort, and our fear, and postpone our recognition that we don’t know the future.

More tragic is that because we can imagine the future, we hold people responsible for failing to imagine the future that comes upon them. There are predictable outcomes, but they are not determined by our actions. And we are very hard upon people in the process of trying to deny that. We are very hard on ourselves. (But that is a post for another day.)

In my super-secret other life (1) I am bringing to the world a story about uncertainty, about releasing the story lines that you are holding, about learning to dance from one story to another. About uncrystallizing the mental constructions of the world you see outside you, and recognizing that while you can work to some extent on imagining and modeling, you cannot KNOW what comes what comes next.

Let us start with the dinner table, for its immediacy. You cannot KNOW in that moment what the person across from you is thinking, what the person across from you will do next. You have an imaginary version of your partner (or your child, or your parent) in your head. And when your imaginary partner doesn’t line up with the real one in the world in front of you, you need to learn that the one in front of you is real. We start with our partners, and our intimate relationships, and our children, and the people closest to us because we get to practice with them daily. But once we realize that the people we love best, we don’t really know, and we don’t have a complete structure of them in our heads, we start to learn humility, and from that we can go on to realize that the people who we encounter on a daily basis who are not our intimate partners, we really know almost nothing about. We have profoundly poor models of the complete stranger.

My work at the moment (and I have a nagging suspicion that this is My Work in all the sense that that implies) is to draw people towards the sense that the stories are possible truths, but they are not Truth. That considering, rather than believing is the path to freeing yourself from being kept by the stories, and to returning to the role of the consciousness as the story keeper. When we talk about the egoic mind, one of the ways that I describe it is that we have come to believe the stories, rather than telling them… and as we who have tried know, to escape the egoic mind, and stop believing the stories is incredibly challenging. But it is the start of Practice.

1. The one in my head and on paper, and eventually website with e-books and courses and the like but you can’t have the URL yet, because it is a garden full of tiny seedlings, but that’s why I haven’t been blogging so much recently but I’ll still keep this one because it’s kind of like my house now, and I like having all of you round for dinner and everything…