writing – Jules P Richards

What’s to be done? Estragon on my shoulder again. Nothing? Make biscuits?

It’s a seasonal tradition, along with the meat pies, to make Grannie/Nana’s Cornish ginger biscuits. Thanks Gannie.

It’s here if you’re interested: Gingerbreads

It’s almost become a cliché, the self-helpers are tripping over themselves to share it, ‘stop, and notice, the everyday things’, breathe, slow down and…

But it’s not just a truism, it’s such an important idea to realise.

It’s not easy… As Antony De Mello suggested, to “understand the loveliness and the beauty of this thing that we call human existence. …tragically, [many] never get to see that ‘all is well’ “ Thanks Antony.

I was recently reading that our perception of time can speed up when life becomes routine and repetitive, and slow down when you encounter novel or stimulating experiences. As Ezra Bayda said, “What happens when we slow down and pay attention? Everything! Innumerable delights are right at hand.”

Christmas break is an ideal time to move out of what’s become a habitual fast lane.

Novel or stimulating experiences can be ever-present, some might say omnipresent. Some might say Emmanuel. From the delight to be found in a warm drink on a cold day, to birdsong, music, a ginger biscuit, a brief exchange with a stranger, pride, gratitude, compassion…

So what’s to be learned from another holiday break?

It’s been a good year; we could look back and list the things to smile about. We could also look back and list the things that have been a struggle and still strain our spirits.

But right now, as Eliot reminds us,

‘Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
… a perpetual possibility…’

A distant friend reminded me beautifully this week to “Let the birds sing over you.” Thanks Tim.

And another friend reminded me of the ‘multiple magpie’ days I experience regularly. Thanks Beckie.

My winter commute in and out of Leicester

I am still beaming with last month’s Howard Jones extravaganza… “There was a time when there was nothing at all, just a distant hum…”. Thanks Howard.

As I reflected back in…. Feb 23 It is well…

I looked upwards… diversity.
Three geese soar, whooping in formation,
while mallards scuffle below, with a shabby iridescent majesty.
Two moorhens totter across my path,
and a passel of pigeons mob a scattering of grain.
A rat sat beside the path, cleaning her whiskers, unphased.
Two squirrels spiral a tree trunk, as a brazen buzzard watches from her regular perch.
Coots mending their nest make me smile; flappy feet.
A few swans still sleep, necks curled, dreaming; while others awake with a stretch and a flamboyant flap.
Multiple magpies bounce; joy, secrets, and gold…
New colonist; a little egret… two of them… three!
The old crows crow.
There was a time when there was nothing at all, just a distant hum…

So we wish you hope for the new year.

Hope…
you find it in everything…

I hope you can find it in everything…

Howard on Leicester, DMH 2025

Happy seasonal contemplations!

Some people commented on the adder stones that we collected on our recent trip to Kent. So, I thought I’d leave a little info here.

My naturally holed stones found in Kent, UK (Adder Stones)

People have traditionally used the term “adder stone” to describe any stone with a naturally occurring hole through it. Often made of flint, they have also been called hag stones, fairy stones, and snake’s eggs. In Cornwall, where I am from, they were called milpreve.

There’s a lot of folklore (people-knowledge) surrounding adder stones, which, of course, is another story. But what does remain is a curiosity in the discovery of such items.

I guess it’s the form that creates intrigue.

As a creative artist, especially when I studied visual arts as a student, Barbara Hepworth was one artist who piqued my interest. Of course, in her created sculptures, she often featured ‘holes’.

I recall studying: ‘the hole’ as a way back as well as a way forward. Conjuring notions of time, past, future, and a space for potential possibilities…

I recall playing with T.S. Eliot’s Burnt Norton
Time present and time past
are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility…

Anywho… I digress.

I guess it’s the ‘noticing’ of forms that is the essence of this. Projecting meaning onto them is what we all then do. Hence, the development of our language and cultures. We see the form of a sunset and it conjures feelings or thoughts, perhaps an overwhelming awe, or a speechless moment, a void… to be filled with meaning.

So back to the holed stones. Whether it’s the mystery of days gone by, or the beauty of sculptural ‘gaps or connections’. Holes exist in our world; space, void, potential… make of them what you will.