In my last blog, The Cosmic Kitchen, I wrote about putting your order in to the Universe as if you were placing an order with a chef. This isn’t just about ‘things’ to acquire, but also state of mind, health, wellbeing and so on.
Thoughts have wings…
If you’re sceptical about the idea of ‘change your thoughts, change your life’, then I urge you to start a manifestation journal. This is a notebook of any size where you write down (daily, but ideally twice a day) what you’d like to manifest in your life. Don’t go writing £20 000 000 on lotto. Go for something your mind can relate to (for now!).
Always keep a notebook handy
It might be material things like a new TV or pair of shoes. It might be to heal an underlying health condition. It might be to improve your marriage. Maybe you want to manifest the time and energy to exercise five times a week? Write it down. Let yourself have dreams, goals, ambitions and plans. Don’t, for one second, think you’re not worthy of having pleasure, time, abundance and excellent health.
Focus clearly on five to ten things, and write these down each day (in the present tense). I have…or I am…(healthy, happy, fit, toned etc.)
Date your list. From time to time, go back to the front of your journal and work your way through, crossing things off your list that you’ve manifested. And write the words THANK YOU next to each one.
I guarantee you that the more you focus on creating the life you want, the more rapidly and easily it will manifest into your life. The next time someone asks you “What would you like for Christmas/birthday?” answer: a spiral notepad and pen. YOU, and you alone, are the author of your life. Get writing.
The kitchen, that sacred space where we prepare food to share with and nurture friends and family, has long been part of domesticated human culture.
It’s a grey, wet day here in Cumbria. In my oven is a delicious bread, free of flour and yeast, but based instead on seeds and nuts and psyllium husk powder.
A glass bowl sits on the bench, with black beans soaking for dinner. I still haven’t decided what to do with them. They might become a Latin stew, or bean and sweet potato burgers. Maybe they’ll become a bean loaf or black-bean minestrone. I have no doubt the inspiration will come to me as the day unfolds gently before me.
The kettle has boiled, and I steep peppermint tea. The aroma fills the room and my heart melts as I listen to the classical music station play Pachabel’s Canon.
As a writer, many inspirational ideas come to me as I potter about in the kitchen. For some reason, my intuition kicks in and my mind is more receptive.
My teenage daughter has just made the most scrumptious lunch: chickpeas in a mashed base of sweet potato and dill on brown rice noodles.
For me, the kitchen is a place of visible sacred ceremony. It is here I come to honour and give reverence to the Earth and Sun and Moon for growing the plants which I’ll eat. Lovingly, I prepare my fruits and vegetables to feed my family. The kitchen is, for me, a play space, a work room, and a devotional altar to all that is good in this life.
Veronika is the author of the popular recipe book: The Mystic Cookfire, the sacred art of creating food for friends and family (published by Starflower Press). She is currently writing Love From My Kitchen (more delicious plant-based recipes!), soon to be published by Starflower Press.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.png00Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2015-11-07 12:41:112015-11-07 12:41:11The Kitchen: heart of the home
If you’re new to the idea of celebrating Samhain, in the sense of honouring our ancestresses in a gentle, holistic way, rather than buying into the ghoulish commercial hype of fear-based Halloween, why not incorporate these simple ideas.
My favourite way is simply to take a walk in Nature. Here, all around us, is the story of birth, life, death. Nature returns unto herself. The leaves will once again become part of the soil from which they first originated as a tiny seed sprouting.
Breathe in the crisp, cool air. Smell woodsmoke. Listen to the sounds as your feet walk upon the leaves. What can you hear? How do you feel?
A Samhain Altar is a beautiful way to adorn your home with gifts from Nature. There are the obvious things like pumpkins, apples and corn, but you can also add acorns, plump rosehips and other gifts from your walk.
You could make a wreath for hanging over the hearth or at your front door.
Use plant-based or beeswax candles to bring light to the dark nights.
Collect photographs, memorabilia and heirlooms from your ancestors and ancestresses. You might like to include fresh rosemary stems to symbolise ‘remembrance’. I collect fresh rosemary from the garden, but also sprinkle the altar with essential oil of rosemary.
Light candles.
Stand with reverence before your ancestors. Say their names out loud. Express gratitude for their part in your life. The veil is thin at this time of the year. Stop and listen to the messages of loved ones who have passed over, whether or not you know their names.
When creating your dinner, leave a place for them.
This is the end of the earth-based year. Give thanks for all that has gone before. When reflecting on the past 12 months, what can you take from it as you move forward?
Declutter and let go of what you no longer need from your home. Release. Learn from Mother Nature. Let go. Start afresh. This is the time of transformation. Embrace it.
Create a phoenix ceremony. If you have space outdoors, create a bonfire or small fire in a fire pit/cauldron. Write down anything negative that you wish to leave your life. Throw this in the fire and see it being released. Let go. Move forward.
I love this time of the year for divination, and gather around me my many different divination cards as I seek guidance and affirmation for the months ahead.
The only way to counteract all the negativity brought into the world by false stereotypes around Halloween, is to be more visible in your expression of earth-based spirituality.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.png00Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2015-10-31 11:56:532015-10-31 11:56:53Samhain for the Soul
For as long as humans have walked this earth, I have no doubt they have created ceremonial spaces which included an altar. Many people in the modern world probably associate an altar as the front table in a Christian church. Others, still, consider an altar to be some sort of weird spooky tool used by bad-ass witches and others who wish to sacrifice something to a deity.
As a white witch (you know, the good sort), and celebrant, I see and use an altar as a sacred space: a focal point for my daily life, or for a specific ceremony or ritual. If I was officiating a ceremony for someone, there would be an altar involved. This defined space features items which would have meaning to the person, or items symbolic of the event they are honouring.
An altar may be used to honour your ancestors and ancestresses, or it may be as a way to focus on improving your health.
It may be because you’re pregnant and using it to visualise an ecstatic birth.
Your altar may be a general one for a beautiful life.
For three years after my father was killed in a car accident, I had an altar with his photo and items that were significant to him. Each time I passed this altar, I would bow my head and say ‘hello’ to my dad. I do believe it was a vital part of navigating the murky world of grief, and deeply healing. It allowed me to hold him close while at the same time letting him go.
An altar may be created in your garden as a way of honouring Mother Earth.
How about an altar in the kitchen? This can become a focus for divine energies to infuse your cooking with love, devotion and care.
My altars generally feature the four elements: earth, fire, water and air.
Earth can literally be dirt, or items gathered from nature such as crystals and gemstones. Or it may include items grown from the earth.
Fire is generally a candle, though it can be an incense stick or even a picture of fire.
Water can be contained in a vase with flowers, or perhaps a small bowl.
Air can be signified by a feather.
The beauty of an altar is that it is unique to the person who creates it, and is an expression of their inner vision. It can be as small as the tiniest shelf or nook, and as wide as the beach.
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.png00Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2015-10-03 08:08:332015-10-03 08:08:33The Altar: a visual expression of an inner desire
At those times when our outer life accurately reflects our inner terrain, we experience spiritual grace. This may be seen when our days claim synchronous happenings.
People and events turn up at just the right time, as if by chance. We see signs and symbols everywhere we turn. These seeming coincidences are, in fact, confirmation from the universe that you are in alignment. Smile, and cherish each one.
Autumnal sunshine tempts me into the garden, my bare feet soaking in the long, dewy grass. Blueberries, purple and plump, hang in cascades from the crimson-leaved branches, urging me to pluck them. I have watched them grow all Summer, and now they’re ready to harvest. And me? Have I grown all Summer? Is there anything to harvest? Plenty, it would seem. Inner work isn’t often obvious to the untrained eye.
The afternoon grows lazy, wood smoke hangs in the air, and geese give a cursory nod as they head south. Against the apricot-hued skyline, apples cling to the trees. Don’t they know? This is the season for letting go.
The tenth month has rolled in like the thick fog girdled around my cosy cottage. “Gather in,” October whispers to me.
By the hearth, I snuggle beneath a woolly blanket, sipping spicy Chai tea. Day’s end brings me here. The woodstove, containing an orchestra of spit, crackle, hiss and sizzle, is an inviting touchstone as the nights draw in.
Little altars around our home become a focus for this colourful season: maple leaves, burgundy rosehips, marmalade-coloured pumpkins, hand-carved wooden bowls of lush blueberries, and shiny conkers.
With wind in our hair, and a chill against our skin, October shows us that the Libran scales of justice stand firm. Truth will win. But before the month is over, Scorpio, zodiac sign of decay, letting go, and transformation will bring new lessons.
It is interesting to me that this season of letting go is generally the most colourful one. Could it be, like human life, that it is at ‘harvest time’ that we become our most colourful, vibrant and dynamic?
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.png00Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2015-10-03 07:14:532015-10-03 07:14:53Bewitched by October
“Your daily life is your temple and your religion.”
Kahlil Gibran
Yesterday I asked myself: “Who is the most spiritual person you know?” I was rather surprised when no obvious person came to me, but had to laugh out loud when I saw Azaria’s face. For those of you who don’t know Azaria, she’s the main character in my novel, Sisters of the Silver Moon.
I modelled Azaria’s physical characteristics on this lovely Danish hairdresser. I adore her open face.
I pondered our cultural notion of spirituality, and also why I’ve heard from women who say they want ‘to be like Azaria’. I was intrigued, but not surprised, that a fictional character was held up as an archetype of ‘spirituality in action’.
As a writer, I adored watching Azaria unfold. She’s 56 years old, and has four adult daughters. Her husband died some years ago in a storm. She lives in an old homestead in the mountains of Colorado, and spends her days tending her beehives and growing/harvesting herbs. Without doubt, she’s well-loved and respected in her community. But she’s not perfect, and that’s part of her charm.
The more I think about this character (and certainly where she’s heading in the sequel, Behind Closed Doors) I can understand her magnetism. Although she’s a fictional character, she does represent something to which we can aspire. And isn’t it interesting, when you look at the Latin roots of words, to see aspire and spiritual both containing ‘spir’? As a metaphysician, I also see it as ‘to breathe in life’. Indeed, to breathe in the Divine.
Perhaps you or someone you know meditates regularly or goes to church. Maybe they or someone else burns incense or keeps a gratitude journal. Maybe their temple is Mother Nature herself. Perhaps they’re avid readers of spiritual or person-growth books or the Bible. Maybe they regularly consult divination cards? Do these things make us spiritual? No, no more than hitting a piano key makes you a pianist. All these things, and more, may well be integral to our daily practice, but spirituality is about the outer experiences of our life reflecting and being congruent with our inner values.
So if we breathe in the Divine, then surely we must breathe out the Divine, too?
Do our interactions with friends, family, colleagues and strangers mirror our inner values?
The character Azaria shows us that everyday we are learning, and every day of our lives is an opportunity to be congruent. When our outer life truly reflects our inner values, then life has a way of flowing harmoniously. And when Fate brings unexpected life-changing events our way, we do have the spiritual tools within to ‘breathe in the Divine’. More than anything, I believe she teaches us that when we love and accept ourselves, then loving others is easy. And isn’t that at the heart of spirituality? To recognise that we are all one? All drops of the same ocean?
https://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.png00Veronika Sophia Robinsonhttps://veronikarobinson.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/logo-1.pngVeronika Sophia Robinson2015-09-17 08:01:412015-09-17 08:03:42Inspired: the art of channelling life
I guess our dining table is more than 100 years old. How many meals families have eaten around it, and how many celebrations they shared, I’ll never know.
The wood is old and worn, and the way it feels under my hands satisfies my sensual self. I know my mother, who loves tablecloths, would want to cover it in fabric. I prefer to see the wood, and to connect with the history of this antique piece of furniture.
In my home, and in my heart, I consider the dining table to be a sacred space designed for flowers, candles and meals made with love.
It’s also a place we can gather, at the end of the school day, with a cup of tea while we chat and catch up.
Indeed, the dining table is a ceremonial space, not just for birthdays or Christmas, but for every meal. As with other ceremonies, I light a beeswax or plant-based candle, play music, and express gratitude. Doing this changes a meal from being a source of fuel to something sacrosanct. It takes little extra time, but it does take a change of attitude to bring consciousness to each meal.
Love From My Kitchen: kale and polenta fingers. Photograph by Veronika Robinson
This morning as we sat together, enjoying breakfast in each other’s company, we talked of ethics and philosophy; about fate, free will and determinism. Conversation included past lives and dreams. Taking time in our busy lives, to ‘break bread’ with our loved ones, is one of the most important rituals we can have as a family. It slows us down. It encourages us to take notice. It says ‘I’m showing up for me, and I’m showing up for you’.
Love From My Kitchen: peppers stuffed with ragout. Photograph by Veronika Robinson
As a family, there can’t be many topics we’ve not discussed in one form or another over the years. What I truly value about a dining table is that each person gets to face another. There can be real heart-to-heart connections, even when you eat in silence. It brings a family together, and when we recognise each meal as a gift, a celebration, and the opportunity to commune with our loved ones, the dining table takes on hallowed significance. Indeed, for me, it is one of the most important pieces of furniture in our home.
Love From My Kitchen: courgette and cranberry cake (gluten free). Photograph by Veronika Robinson
From when my daughters were born, they joined as at the dining table; long before they ate solid foods. They grew up learning the ways of this family, and what values we held. Gratitude for our food was as much a part of a meal as was the eating.
Our prayer was:
Earth which gives us this food Sun which makes it ripe and good Dear Earth, Dear Sun, by you we live Our loving thanks to you we give.
In more recent times, we’ve included another prayer of gratitude.
Thank you for the food before us Thank you for the family (and friends) beside us Thank you for the love around us
Yesterday I was writing a scene in my novel, Behind Closed Doors, whereby the family gathered to share a meal. I felt right at home around that old farmhouse kitchen table, listening to the laughter, enjoying the meal. I hope that my passion for such a daily ritual is reflected in the way the characters share their stories. How different an experience to share our days in this way than eating on the run, or standing at the kitchen counter because you don’t have time to eat. Don’t you think?
Tell me about your dining table? What family rituals do you have around meal times?
Love, Veronika xxx
PS Do sign up to my mailing list if you wish to be notified of when Love From My Kitchen (my next recipe book) is published.
On Friday, 18th September at 3.49am UK time, Saturn will ingress into the zodiac sign of Sagittarius. It’s an interesting mix, as Saturn is all about structure, responsibility, karma, legacy, discipline, restriction, hard work, focus, and doing things properly.
Sagittarius is the philosopher (at best), and at worst, it exaggerates. It’s the most expansive sign of the zodiac, that’s for sure. It is all about freedom, exploration, seeking new shores, and having ‘as much of everything’ as possible. Sagittarius is optimistic and sees the bigger picture.
What this means for us culturally, and individually, is that for the next two or so years, as Saturn works its way through this sign, we will have to take responsibility for all things that carry the Sagittarian theme. Obviously, this will show up in different ways for different people. It could manifest in landing that publishing deal you’ve always wanted, or buying a horse stud or competing professionally in horse events. Maybe archery will feature in the news. You might become a university lecturer, or a travel agent helping others to discover foreign shores.
These are just a few examples. Sagittarian ruled people (those that carry this sign on their ascendant, or have Jupiter there, for example) tend to carry weight. This transit might finally give them the discipline they need to shift unnecessary pounds.
When Saturn navigated Scorpio, a lot of stories of sexual abuse by famous men came out of the woodwork (Scorpio rules sex, amongst other things). Saturn asked us, collectively and for those involved, individually, to take responsibility for our past actions.
As Saturn ingresses Sagittarius, we will look at the stories we tell ourselves (and others). As this sign rules foreign affairs and foreign cultures, I suspect that we’ve only just seen the tip of the ‘refugee crisis’ iceberg. When we look at those desperate souls seeking a new, safe life in other countries, we must look at the whole story: these people have been displaced by war. Wars that we have been involved in because of the people we have elected to power.
We, as a culture, must ask ourselves why we don’t want them here. What are we really scared of? Why isn’t it possible for us to put ourselves in their shoes?
Rather than thinking of karma as good or bad, we will need to reframe it as: taking responsibility for our actions.
But how about on a personal level? Every moment of the day we tell ourselves (and our life broadcasts it to others) stories. The thoughts we think. The beliefs we hold. The worries we harbour. The joys which fill us to bursting. We are walking books!
Saturn will ask us to examine what goes on behind our tongue. Where do those stories come from? Is that what you really believe, or are you just regurgitating something you learnt from school, church, your parents or government?
What stories are you sharing with your children? These are all important questions that we will be forced to confront in one way or another.
At the heart of well-functioning Sagittarius energy we find strong ethics. Saturn will examine what this means for us. Perhaps there’ll be new scientific discoveries and experiments that will leave us questioning (as did the stem-cell, cloning and test tube eras) just how far we can play God.
We may find ourselves asking ‘why is it ethical to kill someone in war, but not in our own backyard?’
We may question why more refugees go to other countries, such as Germany, but are strictly held back in the UK.
The next couple of years are a time for asking: is that my belief, or is that yours?
The beauty and blessing of this important transit is that we get the opportunity to really ask of ourselves and others if we value the stories we hear. Saturn will show us that we will need maturity and responsibility to stop the script; and that we can do so at any time, and write a new one.
Can you sense areas in your life where the script needs rewriting? Why is that? What would it take to change it?
Each night, when my body is fast asleep, there’s a whole cinematic thing going on in my head. Sometimes I swear I’m busier at night than I am in the entire day. One of last night’s dreams really spoke to me, though it clearly didn’t feel comfortable at the time.
I was somewhere between Cumbria and Yorkshire, standing in a small village, and I was completely naked. I had no idea how I got there, and I didn’t know where my husband was. I had no phone to make contact with him to bring me clothing.
People were looking at me, and men were grabbing my breasts. Even the women were looking me up and down. I asked around for some clothing to wrap around me. Eventually I had a small tablecloth that I could stretch around my waist. It was a little wider than Eve’s fig leaf!
Nakedness is interesting, on many levels. It’s a taboo in our culture, unless of course you’re some scantily clad thing on a trashy tabloid newspaper whose thong choice leaves little to the imagination.
Clothing separates us from others. It may be used for fashion, though in my case it’s nearly always used for warmth!
As a cook, I adore naked food: produce fresh from the garden. Meals made from scratch. I can’t abide soup from a tin, for example. In my food choices, I seek out ‘real’. I want to know every last ingredient in the meals I eat.
My dream clarified something for me: that as much as I walk a path with the goal of being authentic (naked), there will always be those who will try to cover up people like me. Why? Because our nakedness causes others to question their coverings. In fact, cover up actually means ‘shut up’. We do this with clothing, but we also do it to babies every time we shove a dummy in their mouths. We don’t want to hear them.
I mean, imagine this: you’re in town, doing your shopping, and you see Jane Smith. She comes wandering out of a shop wearing…well, nothing. Starkers, she is.
And you? You’re in your knee-high black boots, and that gorgeous cashmere cardigan. Jane is delighted to see you and starts to chat. But where do you look? At the sky? At the brass band busking over by the delicatessen? You can’t look at her waist, or between her legs. Jeez, of course not! And what about her breasts? That would be a bit, well, creepy, right? Breasts are only for selling cars, real estate, coffee, shopping malls, and diamonds.
The truth is, you’re both coming from a different place. Can you, in all honesty, look at Jane—look at all of Jane—and be comfortable? It’s highly unlikely (apart from the small detail that someone would have had her arrested before you came along). Ours is a culture of shame, blame, fear, dishonesty.
I watch Jeremy Corbyn take centre stage in British politics right now and want to yell: “LOVE YOUR NAKEDNESS, JEREMY!”
He’s being authentic. He’s speaking his truth. Interesting how quickly MPs scuttled away when his voice was starting to really be heard. They didn’t want to be associated with that naked man! And how fascinating is it to see the ‘true colours’ of politicians like David Cameron become almost neon-like as they flash their distaste.
The truth is we’re unlikely to become a culture that gives people the right to be naked. But what about the other ways in which we can be naked? We don’t need culture’s approval to be authentic. We might be shamed, or legally bullied, into wearing clothes, but no one can force us to cover our true nature.
When we come to love who we are, and to value our place on this earth, then we won’t even bother with a fig leaf; not for ourselves, and not to protect others.
Our values, our beliefs, our passions ~ they don’t need hiding. They do, however, need honouring. I read a lovely quote the other day. It was something like ‘self-esteem is the reputation you have of yourself’. Wow! What does this say about the majority of people? Few people have a healthy self-esteem (please don’t confuse someone’s arrogance or bullish behaviour as high self-esteem; it’s quite the opposite).
If you had a great reputation (of yourself), you would have no need to ‘dress’.
We wear ‘psychological’ garments every time we hide our truth, regardless of whether it’s over a small issue or something that’s hugely important to us. Living a life of compromise means that we start to have ‘emotional’ leakages somewhere. Generally, such leakages end up causing disease as the physical body tries to process what the mind and emotions have been denied. A really good example of this is when someone we love dies. Our culture is not set up for grief. Yes, you can have a few days off work, but by heck when you get back for God’s sake don’t cry in front of anyone. The grief of losing someone can take years to process. Imagine what it does to us when we’re forced to contain that pain so we don’t upset others (with our nakedness). Our body pays the price.
In what ways are you covering up? Do you keep a fig leaf (or banana leaf) nearby so that others don’t have to see who you really are?
