Blog - Veronika Sophia Robinson

In at the deep end

I recently began swimming again after about a decade out of the water. It’s been a month now since I decided to make a habit out of swimming about four times a week (plus a couple of aquafit classes).

What is interesting to me is how often I hear people mention that swimming lengths is boring. I’ve found the opposite to be true. In that hour of doing breaststroke, I practise self-talk. It is during this time when my body is in a gentle flowing rhythm that I go through everything in my life that I’m grateful for. I consciously weed out unnecessary or negative thoughts on a daily basis, and replace them with the seeds of hope, faith, trust, belief and love.

I really wish the power of thoughts/thinking was taught in schools so that children didn’t become adults who spend vast swathes of time in fear and anxiety.

Examples of some of my affirmations include:

I am thankful for my strong, stable, secure shoulders and arms (have had a history of dislocation, so really need to combine positive self-talk with physiotherapy and exercise).

I give thanks for my loving and nurturing husband, and that I have such a beautiful marriage.

I am grateful for my funny, creative, inspiring daughters.

I am so grateful for my luxurious life which allows me to be self-employed doing work that I love.

I give thanks for my body which is growing stronger, fitter and healthier every day.

I am strong. I am fit. I am loving. I am kind. I am happy. I have wonderful friends. I am grateful for my nurturing home.

I have plenty more that I mentally say, but this gives you a taste of how I spend my swimming time. My body might be exercising, but so is my mind. It is being fed strong thoughts. Our thinking really does shape our life. And, like the muscles of the body, our thoughts and way of thinking can be lax or fit. It’s up to us what thoughts we choose to entertain. Regardless of the way we’ve been brought up, we can change our life by weeding out the pointless and damaging, and instead planting seeds of love, gratitude and harmony.

February 2, 2015/0 Comments/by Veronika Sophia Robinson

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A Room of One’s Own

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the many ways my parents acted as positive role models for me and my siblings. When my dad built our home on 700 acres of land, he included a lounge room for himself and a room for my mother. This was in addition to their bedroom.

My childhood home in Freestone, Darling Downs, Australia

I’m one of eight children, and although we didn’t all live at home together at the same time, there were generally about five of us at home at any given point. We shared bedrooms.

My dad’s lounge was huge, and could have easily been converted into three children’s bedrooms. I still remember the orange carpet! That aside, the views out across the fields and eucalyptus-covered mountains were nourishing. The room had a glass sliding door which opened out onto the courtyard: a wonderful oasis of freesias, bananas and pawpaws (papaya). In this room, my dad wrote letters, dreamed big dreams, and played his accordion. This was his sanctuary. When he wasn’t away overseas working, he made use of this room every day.

Eventually we got a piano which was kept in this room and I was allowed in there to play, but that was all!

Freestone, Australia

My father’s room, his writing bureau, his accordion, and his artefacts from excursions to Papua and New Guinea (for work), were all off-limits to us children.

My mother did the vast majority of her creative work in full sight of the family, whether it was sewing beautiful dresses, building wooden castles, growing a paradisiacal garden or creating wonderful meals. Her room was a sacred space in which she studied astrology and Eastern religions. This space was strictly taboo. Yes, of course I looked inside! Curiosity is my middle name, after all.

Most people can’t afford the luxury of having a private room for themselves as well as a bedroom. We can, however, carve out little niches around the home which are strictly for us: little altars, or a space to do our creative play.

Maybe your space is in the garden or in a garden shed. Perhaps there is space under the stairs that you can claim for your own? (I used to have our space under the stairs for storing our Suma ( bulk wholefoods) order. I’m so proud of my husband for owning that space and making it into a professional recording studio. It’s not often that he puts himself first.

What I learnt from my parents is that, no matter what, you have to honour your passions and the creative fountain of life which streams from within you regardless of your responsibilities and the number of children under your feet.

I may share my writing space with my husband and teenage daughter, but I also know that if I get up early enough (easier to do in Winter) I can have a few precious hours to myself in which to let the fire of creativity burn. In those stolen tranches of time, I exist in a room of my own. I am free to play, to create, to dream, to explore.

Where do you do your creative work? Do you have a designated space? I’d love to hear!

February 2, 2015/0 Comments/by Veronika Sophia Robinson

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Attachment Parenting Teenagers

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•A Gift of a Job?
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January 19, 2015/0 Comments/by Veronika Sophia Robinson

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When I say goodbye

One of the first lessons in A Course in Miracles is: you are never angry for the reason you think. I like to change the word ‘angry’ to other things from time to time, such as sad, happy and so on. It reminds me of our many layers, and what complex beings we are.

This morning when we waved our daughter Bethany off at the train station so she could go back to university, I choked back the tears. You are never sad for the reason you think, I told myself.

The truth is, I really hate goodbyes. I’m crap at them. And this morning I thought to myself: jeez girl, you’re 47 now, get a grip. It’s just a goodbye. She hasn’t died. It’s not the end of the world.

As a young child, I spent many visits to Brisbane airport waving and crying as my dad flew off to work in Papua & New Guinea. When I say goodbye to someone I love and the tears are at the edge, I know they’re as much about my loved one as about my dad and about me.

It’s about the little girl who hated being abandoned.

Sometimes it really annoys me that she’s always there waiting to remind me that I’m not really an adult, but a wounded girl. And then I remember this: we are all the walking wounded. We all have an inner child that we try to shoosh up with band-aids and denials. Perhaps I need my inner child’s constant conversations to keep me on track, to always remind me that I’m not alone. We’re all covered in plasters. We all carry wounds that we’d rather not show to the world.

January 9, 2015/0 Comments/by Veronika Sophia Robinson

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The Transformation Game

On the first night Paul and I spent together, I had invited him for dinner. Afterwards, my flatmate pulled out something called The Transformation Game. It was created at Findhorn (the spiritual community in the north of Scotland).

It’s unlike any other board game I’ve ever played. Each player asks a question relevant to their life, and through the course of the game you are given answers through angel cards, life setback cards, universal feedback cards, life insight cards and there are also awareness tokens, service tokens, pain cards and the envelope for holding your personal unconscious.

You enter the game through the physical realm (birth), then graduate to the emotional, mental and spiritual levels.

For almost twenty years I have held that game up on a pedestal. Paul came to my home as a virtual stranger (apart from the fact he’d made me laugh out loud several times at my place of work ~ a school of metaphysics), and left at 5am as the man whom I would spend the rest of my life with. We literally moved in together the next day.

My question was about whether I should go to Ministerial school or have a baby. Both desires were incredibly strong. I had deep urges to become a Minister of Metaphysics, but also this daughter, somewhere in the ethers, had already told me her name and that she’d be with me soon (ha! I was pregnant six weeks later).

Paul’s question (bless his little cotton socks) was: will there be a new relationship for me?

And here we are now. In April, we’ll celebrate 20 years since we spent that first evening together.

This Christmas, I gave Paul (big drum roll) The Transformation Game. Who could ever have imagined that we’d end up playing it with our daughters?

I loved watching our girls yesterday, with their questions, receiving ‘feedback’ and how those answers they were looking for came from deep within themselves. It’s not a ‘quick’ game. You need at least about three hours. I look forward to Paul sharing his Christmas gift with us many times over the years.

Transformation. It’s such a beautiful thing!

December 27, 2014/0 Comments/by Veronika Sophia Robinson

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The Face of Loneliness

I’m not someone who suffers loneliness. Even as a child, I loved to be on my own and would spend hours in quiet play (despite being one of eight children). I’ve always had a rich inner world, so haven’t ‘needed’ external witnesses.

And yet, I really feel the pain of loneliness in others. Oftentimes, when I’m town and I see an elderly person sitting in a café, with loneliness written all over them, I give them my brightest smile and try to warm their day. In the process, I’m doing everything I can to hold back the tears of pain. Their pain. Somehow, it ends up in my body. Empathy.

Christmas, for me, is a time of simplicity and immediate family. It’s a time to cocoon ourselves away from the world and be nestled in each other’s love. However, there have been many Christmases over the years that Paul and I have opened our home and hearts to friends who we knew would otherwise be on their own. And this Christmas will be one of those. You see, loneliness isn’t just the preserve of the elderly. It can strike anyone, of any socio-economic class and of any age.

There is a world of difference between being alone and being lonely. If you do know someone who is lonely, why not reach out your hand in friendship or support? It only takes a moment but it can make all the difference.

With my siblings, March 2012

My girls riding through the village. 2004

In my childhood home, my mum had several quotes on the kitchen wall which I’d read every day while eating my meals. This was one of them:

A smile cost nothing, but gives much.

It enriches those who receive,
without making poorer those who give.
It takes but a moment,
but the memory of it sometimes lasts forever.

None is so rich or mighty that he can get along without it, and none is so poor but that he can be made rich by it.

A smile creates happiness in the home,
fosters good will in business,
and is the countersign of friendship.
It brings rest to the weary,
cheer to the discouraged,
sunshine to the sad,
and is nature’s best antidote for trouble.

Yet it cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen,
for it is something that is of no value to anyone
until it is given away.

Some people are too tired to give you a smile.
Give them one of yours,
as none needs a smile so much as he who has no more to give.
– Unknown

There is currently a campaign to raise awareness of loneliness. This is both inspiring and sad. How far have we humans become removed from our tribal roots?

I urge you, in amongst the Christmas hustle and bustle, to spare a thought, or a minute, or a cup of coffee or bunch of flowers for someone who is weary with loneliness. It will enrich both of your lives.

With love, Veronika xxxxxxx

December 23, 2014/0 Comments/by Veronika Sophia Robinson

Walking the Path of the Ancestors: From Wismar to Modern Celebrations

The Five Elements of Everyday Ceremony: Grounding Magic at Home

How Small Objects Hold Our Grandmothers’ Magic

Blog Posts

In at the deep end

A Room of One’s Own

Attachment Parenting Teenagers

When I say goodbye

The Transformation Game

The Face of Loneliness

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