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When my younger daughter was three, she asked me “What’s at the end of forever?” It’s the sort of question that makes you realise mothering is not going to be a piece of cake! Most of her questions were of that ilk.

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My teenage years were spent with my nose inside Mills & Boon romance novels living vicariously through women courted by Mr Right. Sure beat biology classes, anyway. I have long believed in happily ever after. It’s not a myth. But, like “what’s at the end of forever?”, it may not be easy to answer.

My marriage to a good man certainly feels like ‘happily ever after’ but the reality is that at some point one or other of us will be saying farewell when our beloved leaves this Earth. The love, however, will continue throughout eternity. Of that, I’m certain.

Whatever it is that we’re seeking when we search out a soulmate isn’t just about how good a person is between the sheets or how good they will look in a wedding dress, but it is absolutely about how they feel in our heart. The best way to choose if someone is right for you is with your eyes closed. There’s nothing wrong with physical attraction and chemistry, but it’s the icing NOT the cake. True love that lasts through the years is about something deeper; something which transcends the physical.

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When I write love stories they may well have a happily ever after, but what I’m really writing is ‘I’ll leave you happy for now’. That’s not to say that happiness can’t be ongoing, but the only thing we ever have is now. I wish for my characters a Happily Now. And I wish that for myself. I wish that for you.

 

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How do we create happiness in our daily lives? Isn’t it just a by-product of some external activity or experience? Something that ebbs and flows like the tides?

For me, happiness isn’t necessarily walking about with a smile on my face (though that is lovely), but about an inner contentment. It’s about savouring the small pleasures of life, and ensuring I meet my sensorial needs each day. It is about awakening my senses and experiencing pleasure. These are never about the future, but the present moment. As I type, birds sing beautifully in the trees outside. Why would I wish that for ten or fifty years from now? HERE, today, right now, is where I am experiencing their joy. Birdsong becomes my joy.

 

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Tulips on my windowsill make my heart sing. Now, not in the future.

I sip spring water from my glass. Now, not in twenty years.

Chatting with friends isn’t something I dream about years down the road. I engage and cherish the experience now.

I smile when I open an email from a grateful reader. Now, not in some distant future.

Confession: over the years I’ve spent a small fortune on psychics and fortune tellers. What’s interesting is that I have come to a solid and secure place in my life where I recognise that I CREATE my future by what I think and feel today. And this goes for all of us. No one’s future is set in stone. We are the masters of our own Fate.

No one puts the thoughts into our heads but us. We choose them. We can filter them. Weed them out. Plant new thoughts. As gardeners of the mind, we have the power to transform our lives one thought at a time. This isn’t about being the archetypal Pollyanna so much as holding a state of grace and gratitude.

If you’re searching for a happily ever after, start here. What are your prevailing thoughts? What way does the wind blow your feelings? What are you most grateful for? Being mindful of how and when and why you are grateful is the best fortune teller of all. The more your heart expands with joy and gratitude, the bigger and brighter your life.

Start where you are: the roof over your head. The food on your plate. The company you keep. A grateful heart is a happy heart.

 

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Veronika Robinson is the author of about seventeen books (she’s lost count!). Her most recent publication is I Create My Day: simple ways to create a beautiful and nourishing life. Signed copies from https://www.veronikarobinson.com/author/non-fiction.shtml

Discover the path of spiritual grace. I Create My Day is a sacred journey into the heart of attitudinal healing, and invites you to create the life of your dreams one day at a time. Regardless of how you currently experience the world, this book promises to show how you can create a magnificent life that is nourishing, beautiful and authentic. At the heart of a handcrafted life is a spirit of reverence, gratitude and grace. By including the simple ideas in this book as part of your every day, you will witness your life unfold in ways that are miraculous, meaningful and, always, from the heart. Creating your day is one of the greatest spiritual decisions you can make.

Or available from Amazon here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Create-My-Day-Beautiful-Nourishing/dp/0993158625/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1459266654&sr=8-1&keywords=I+Create+My+Day

You can also ask your local library or bookshop to stock copies.

 

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One of the biggest influences on my ability to find my life purpose, and walk my path with joy, has been understanding the astrological blueprint of the moment I was born.

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Astrology can help you understand yourself, your relationships, your learning style (and your child’s), as well as help identify the best type of home, love, and work/career for you. It allows healing to take place when you can name and identify core wounds, too.

Astrology is beneficial for issues around health, intimacy, sexuality, finance, studying, marriage, spirituality, and more. ~ Veronika xx

 

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Tonight, sunset will be an hour sooner. It always takes some adjusting when the clocks go back.

The Sun, now transiting Scorpio, is bringing up lessons to do with letting go, releasing, decay, transforming, digging deep, sexuality, trust, and surrendering. Of all the zodiac signs, Scorpio is the one I have most respect for even though novice (and probably many experienced) astrologers are rather terrified of the sign.

Scorpio has grit. It’s the only sign to be represented by three totems. While Libra is all about charm and diplomacy, Scorpio says ‘to hell with the niceties, I want the truth!’ It’s the detective of the zodiac, and will leave no stone unturned.

A scorpion can go for three days without breathing. It can survive being frozen, and is the only creature to survive radiation. Respect.

In the northern hemisphere, we’ll be wearing much warmer clothes and shoes, and putting on the heating sooner in the day. As I type, my woodstove is on. Its crackle reminds me that there is life in the room. Fire is a transformative force which, when we look at in mythology, gives us the story of the phoenix: the mythical creature rising from the ashes.

We’ve passed the equinox (balance) and are being drawn down into the dark. What do we hope to find here? Not much if it’s not a conscious journey, but oh how rich the rewards are when we excavate the psyche to see what we have learnt over the past few seasons.

While we often talk about spring cleaning our homes, for me it is Autumn which sees the deep desire to pull everything apart and clean. This is the perfect season for decluttering, deep cleaning, and shipping off unnecessary things to charity shops for recycling.

As we watch the beautiful aubergine, mustard, claret and golden leaves flutter to the ground, Nature reminds us that nothing in life is permanent. The leaf knows when it is time to move on. And so should we.
I don’t carve angry or scary faces into pumpkins. Instead, I create a “lantern of love” as an invitation across the veil to the other world. This is a time to acknowledge our ancestors and ancestresses, and to honour that at this time of the year, according to tradition, the veil between their world and ours is thin, and contact is easier with our deceased loved ones. From our family room window, at Samhain, our pumpkin will shine light through those love-heart shapes ~ inviting passers-by to re-envision the season.

Can you feel Autumn wrapping herself around you as she carries you towards Winter? Has she shown you yet that the place of deepest nurturing is in the silence? Like a fallow field, gestation and soul growth occur in the dark. In spiritual circles, we are often applauded for our journey towards enlightenment, but ‘endarkenment’ is just as valid.

Autumn teaches that letting go is also a form of generosity.
Leaves fall, branches are bare. Trees are silhouetted against the Sun setting on the horizon. Nothing stays the same. Autumn teaches us, with her incredible beauty, that you can’t hang on to something that doesn’t belong to you.

What have you outgrown? That is what Autumn wants to know. She is leading the way, and showing you through her graceful dance, that letting go leads to another type of beauty. This is imperative to spiritual transformation.

Change is in the air. I can smell it on the wood smoke, geese on high, early sunsets framing the old sandstone church. Even the rain feels different. Consciously, I choose to let go of anything that doesn’t serve me.
Our ancestresses understood the real significance of Autumn: Nature teaches us that seeds must ‘die’ before they can grow. This is symbolic of our spiritual potential. Alchemists would see this as the divine fire, and destroying the ego.

Most ancient myths symbolise the descent into the underworld prior to the spiritual ascent. As we move towards the cave of Winter, we can go down deeper, deeper, deeper into the underworld. It is only our reluctance to do so that makes life difficult.

The death which Autumn teaches us about is much like the movements of a woman’s body in labour ~ it is preparing us for a new beginning: a birth.
What can you let go of? Relationships, job, clothes, bad habits, fears, worn-out excuses, procrastination? We all know, in our hearts, what doesn’t serve us.

Consciously Celebrating Halloween

At this time of the year, shops are filled with fake spider webs, witches’ costumes, cauldrons, rubber frogs and an assortment of ghoulish items from jelly eyeballs to skeletons, and the ever-essential candy. For many children, Halloween is associated with knocking on the doors of strangers and receiving sugary sweets. This ancient festival has become a time to ignite people’s fears about the Underworld.

Halloween, however, was traditionally a festival which honoured the wise grandmother, otherwise known as The Crone. The Goddess is honoured by her three aspects: maiden, mother, grandmother. At Samhain (Halloween) it is the Grandmother (Crone) who takes centre stage as she demands that we use this time of year to look back over the year and go inwards to learn what will make us a better person in the coming year. It is a time of reflection, transformation and renewal. As befits the season of Autumn, it is a time to let go and release anything that does not serve us.
What was beautiful and symbolic of the great feminine, such as the Crone’s cauldron representing the womb of the Great Goddess, has been bastardised into witches on broomsticks casting evil spells. In Britain, the tradition of children trick or treating originated with asking for donations to help the poor. In Celtic tradition, Hallow’s Eve (renamed as Halloween by the Christian Church) is the time which signifies the end of Summer (Samhain; pronounced sow en). For Celts, this is the beginning of the New Year. The Saxons called it Winter’s Eve.

Our ancestors were honoured at this time of year, and it was believed by many cultures that the ‘veil’ between this world and the next was thinnest and therefore an ideal time for communication between the living and the dead.

How can we teach our children to celebrate this tradition in a way which is symbolically rich and meaningful beyond the commercialisation of modern-day Halloween?

There are many ways, such as making a special meal and serving a plate for the unseen guests. It could be gathering unneeded items from the home, such as outgrown clothes, food staples, toys, and giving them to charity (the cycle of Scorpio is a perfect time for letting go).
Making a small altar with photos of your ancestors, and lighting a candle, allow yourself to create a focal piece in your home. I taught my children, when they were young, the origins of the carved pumpkin: Irish immigrants used turnips, and introduced this idea in the USA in the 18th century.

The law of attraction is very clear: we become what we focus on. Do we teach our children about fear and negative energies, or do we demonstrate love, and that death is a doorway to another world and that there is nothing to be frightened of?

We can educate our children (and friends) about the history of Halloween, and how it began more than 2000 years ago as a way of honouring the Crone as well as the end of the harvest season. Her archetype, after all, is that of: you shall reap what you sow. She asks us, our wise grandmother, to take responsibility for our actions.

A Samhain Altar

There are countless ways to bring Samhain to life in your home, but beginning with a simple altar is a great way to start. Use colours and symbols of the harvest season, such as orange and black. Those of us who celebrate earth-based spirituality, use black because it represents the cape of the Wise Crone, and the waning Moon. It is symbolic of the dark Earth―the underworld, a type of womb―in which seeds will gestate during the long dark Winter.

We make full use of harvest foods, such as apples, acorns, rosehips, pumpkins and corn, pomegranates and marigolds. On our altar you will find beeswax candles, a cauldron, and Autumn leaves. Our mugs are filled with apple cider or warm honey mead.

On your altar, you can add photos or heirlooms of your ancestors, and invite them to meet you at the veil. Of course, in some homes the ancestor altar is on display all year round.

Sharing the Feast

When creating your Samhain feast, include a place for your ancestresses. Just a spoon of food and a mouthful of beverage will suffice. It’s symbolic.
Some families leave a bowl of porridge by the hearth, or a candle in the window, while others place an empty chair by the woodstove. These acts are said to guide hungry ghosts to comfort, and that humans will be blessed by their interactions with these wandering spirits.

This is the perfect opportunity to teach your children about their family tree and ancestral history. If you have letters, photos or books from your ancestors, share them and talk about what they mean to your family. If you don’t have any items, you can write the names of ancestors on paper to place on your altar.

To contact your ancestresses and ancestors, close your eyes and be mindful of your breathing. Use this time to ask yourself: who am I?
We are a collection of cells passed down from many, many people in the family line. We have their strengths, their weakness, and we house their failures and their dreams. The Festival of the Wise Grandmother is a time to honour the past and the present.

I am the daughter of Angelikah and Albertus, and granddaughter of Minna-Marie and Liselotte. I come from a long line of people who lived in the cold of Northern Europe: Vikings, shipbuilders, seafarers, mothers, craftsmen and musicians. I come from men and women, some whose names I do not know, but I do know they were: strong, pioneering, loving, creative, and held family as sacred.

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Keep speaking aloud, telling your family story. If there are stories you know, verbalise them. You can ask the ancient ones to guide you on your life’s journey, and to protect you and your loved ones.

If you feel you’re carrying family wounds, ask to be freed from them.

 

If you wish to be instrumental in healing wounded archetypes in your lineage, then ask how you can experience and release these stories so that you and descendants may find and write their own script.

Not everyone in our lineage is someone we wish to be connected to, but with love and forgiveness we can move forward, and in doing so, we free the energy of that person, too.

Use this time to think about your life, and what transformations you’ve undergone. You might choose to meditate, use runes or practise divination with tarot cards. Perhaps you’ll write down your dreams, or take a solitary walk in the woods and listen to the night owl beneath the moonlight.

A phoenix ceremony goes hand in hand with any celebration of Samhain. Review, release and let go. That is the message from the Wise Grandmother. If you have a patio or garden where you can create an open fire (even in a cauldron or small contained pit), use this to write down old habits or negative things from your life to release.
Be clear: Samhain and Halloween are not meant to be negative, fear-inducing or about black magic, but quite the opposite. Perhaps those who were instrumental in changing its pure meaning were afraid of empowerment and the strength of women.

Do feel free to share your positive Samhain and Halloween experiences. Perhaps you could invite friends to take a mindful walk in woodlands near your home. You could make a journey stick, collecting seasonal items from nature, to share the story of where you’ve been.

Costumes are a popular part of the modern-day Halloween. According to Samhain tradition, to wear a costume or mask during this time would help to distract wandering spirits from calling you to the Otherworld before your allotted time. Tradition also suggests that it was a way of conferring the strength of the creature you were imitating. It was common, too, to make noise using hands or drums to interrupt daily noise. This created a portal to the Otherworld which enabled spirits to make contact and whisper messages to the living.

As a family, you could visit the local cemetery (even if you have no loved ones there), and leave an offering, such as water, herbs, flowers, seeds, bulbs or gemstones.

With your family, you can offer a prayer of gratitude:
Thank you dear Earth for all that you have given us so bountifully this season.

We open our arms to the Sacred Darkness.

Take your spicy mead or cider, and make libations to Mother Earth, as symbolic of the Wise Grandmother.

“We have gathered the harvest, and Winter is coming. We give thanks.”
If you have a Goddess symbol of the Wise Grandmother, place it on your altar. You might like to make ink art or create dreamcatchers as part of your Halloween celebrations.

At the heart of any ritual and celebration which honours the Earth, is the use of fire as a symbol. Samhain and Halloween are no different. Fire reminds us that we’re in need of light and warmth. It invites introspection as we draw nearer to the flame.

Celebrating Samhain with Mother Nature

Make a Samhain wreath using grain stalks, nuts, apples, leaves, conkers and rosehips, and place it on your front door.

Ensure your garden is tidy before All Hallow’s Eve so that it may rest peacefully for the Winter.

Honour the darkness by lighting candles or celebrating with a bonfire. The light of fire is enhanced by the sheer darkness of night. The light reminds us that there is life in the Underworld.

Press flowers in old books.

Plant bulbs. As you bury them in the dark, moist and fertile womb of Mother Earth, offer a prayer to the Goddess of the Underground. Write your wishes on paper, and bury them with the bulbs.

Harvest your produce, and store well.

If you are celebrating Samhain with friends, hold hands and stand in a circle around your bonfire. Invite the ancestresses to be with you. Feel the power as each of you verbalise your connections to the Otherworld.
Wear black during Samhain to celebrate the season and all it represents.
Make spirals from seeds and nuts.

Sit outside at twilight and listen for the voices of your ancestresses in the wind.

Take a solitary walk at night time to feel the sense of the season.

Practise ecological awareness, and give back to the Earth rather than using products made from crude oils or ancient sunlight.

Walk the Labyrinth

The ancient Celtic shamans would walk the medicine wheel, otherwise known as a labyrinth. If you are lucky enough to live near a labyrinth, use this to enhance your Samhain ceremony. A labyrinth offers healing and psychological courage and strength.

A finger labyrinth can give you a way to put your question or intention to the Universe. Begin with a focus, then using your finger, make your way around the labyrinth. When you make the outward journey, do so in trust that your answer will be revealed to you.

If the finger labyrinth doesn’t appeal to you, you can make one outdoors with stones, candles or sandbags.

Veronika comes from a long line of white witches: the ones they were never able to burn! www.veronikarobinson.com

“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.

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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?

What are our values? Examples include: independence, adventure, family, beauty, kindness, justice, love, wisdom, truth, compassion, trust, fidelity, power, healing, leadership, knowledge, intimacy, integrity, growth, humility, dignity, food, friendship, community, creativity, etc.

Do our interactions with friends, family, colleagues and strangers mirror our inner values?

 

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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?

What does spirituality mean to you?

Love, Veronika xxxx

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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.

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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.

 

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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’.

 

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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.

 

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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.

 

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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.

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In a year from now, my baby girl will leave the nest. What a joy, honour and privilege it has to been to raise our two beautiful daughters. Not that every day has been easy, of course. But here, as I watch the next year unfold before me with far more speed than should be humanly possible, I can’t help but contemplate the years ahead.

I have smiled and empathised this week as I’ve read friends updates on Facebook, posting pictures of their young children heading off to school for the first time. If only they knew that the tears were in preparation for that day when their child leaves home to fly away.

When Bethany left home a year ago for university, I swore my heart broke in two. The realisation that my hands-on parenting days were over hit me like a sledge hammer. I can’t tell you how good it has been to have her home for the summer, and to feed her home-made meals and snuggle up on the sofa. I suspect, though, that whatever a mother feels when her first child leaves home is matched equally by the last child going. First child. Last child. Separation is separation. But that bond of love? It can’t be broken.

 

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Our cottage in the depths of Winter. Inside, a roaring fire, creativity, cups of hot tea, and laughter.

Much has been written about empty-nest syndrome, and how much some women can suffer when their babes leave. I imagine this is probably even more so for women who’ve been stay-at-home mothers, or who have home educated and are used to the constant companionship of their children.

My question is this: do our children really leave behind an empty nest?
Of course not! I, for one, hope to be sitting here with Papa Bird in a year from now, preening each other’s feathers, whistling our happy tunes. Our dreams for each other, and for life, won’t suddenly come to an end. Just as leaving home is a new beginning for our children, so it is for us. We’re excited about the years ahead that we’ll have together as a couple.

It isn’t emptiness that we’ll be in, but a home that has been filled with love, crazy conversations, triumphs, trauma, oodles of creativity, side-splitting laughter, and oh so much more. My heart won’t suddenly shrink because my children have left home. They have given me nearly 20 years of love, and that isn’t something which simply vanishes when they step out the door. My children’s laughter, questions, dreams and hopes are etched into this home as much as they are in my heart.

 

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I have given my all as a mother, and the majority of that time included being an attachment parent, and a home-educating mum. The years ahead offer me the ‘me time’ that isn’t so easy to create when you’re a stay-at-home mother. In the invisible force and vibrant energy of the family nest we made together, I shall draw upon everything we have shared, and use those blessings to enhance the latter years of my life.

My life has been made richer by the nest we have shared, and I am so grateful for the love, laughter, beauty and creativity which my children have infused into our world. In a year from now, you might look at my nest and declare it ‘empty’. I can tell you now: nothing could be further from the truth.

A few years ago I had a strong desire to leave the life I’d known as a magazine editor and become a romance novelist. It made sense. I have a deeply felt need to bring more love to the world, and I love writing. Why not combine the two?

I spent my teenage years immersed in romance novels. They provided just the antidote to boring school days and tedious exams. Instead of doing homework, I was being romanced by tall, dark, fictional men…that is, until I could hear my mother walking up the hallway to my bedroom. And then, my secret lover was shoved beneath the textbooks while I pretended to studiously examine the theory of how to dissect a frog. Talk about going from princes to frogs!

I was thrown out of biology class for drawing hearts. Love hearts!

I met my husband Paul―a prince, not a frog―when living in New Zealand, and we moved in together the day after our first date. It was ‘I’ve known you forever’ at first sight. We’re happily in love, two decades later. I still get butterflies when I see him smile, or watch him walking towards me. He makes me laugh like no one else can. I can feel the privilege of those oft-said words: till death do us part; and I know that it means our love will carry us through and beyond that day.

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Our love story is a rom-com; I’m the rom, he’s the com. In the roughly ten years I spent as a single woman, I kissed more than a few of those proverbial toads. Often it’s only in hindsight that we see the blessings of poor relationship choices and lost loves. Those toads—every single one of them—showed me what I didn’t want in a relationship. And so I went on kissing toads in the hope that there was a fairytale ending for me. Those toads may have worn different costumes, and had different names or jobs, but in the end a toad is a toad is a toad. Would I ever meet my handsome prince? Perhaps I’d read far too many Mills & Boon romance novels! Nevertheless, they gave me hope.

 

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Despite the heartache, the betrayal, the lack of emotional intelligence or ability to give more openheartedly by some of the above said toads, I never really stopped believing in love. It took me about ten years of kissing toads to realise I wasn’t a toad, and that’s why those relationships didn’t fit right.

I trained to become a marriage celebrant. Even if I wasn’t married, I could at least celebrate other people’s happy unions. As it turned out, by the time I officiated my first ceremony in 1995 I had a beautiful baby girl growing inside me. Yes, I’d found my prince! Or had he found me?

Several years ago, I became rather ill with what I later discovered was adrenal fatigue. I ended up in bed for weeks, so exhausted I could barely move. My daughters, bless them, remembered my teenage addiction to romance novels and scoured the local charity shops buying me dozens of novels from their pocket money. I’d not read romance novels in years. At first, I was somewhat amused that I’d ever found them interesting. After all, aren’t they all the same? That’s what everyone thinks, right? Boy meets girl. Boy is a prat. Girl can’t bear the sight of him. Well, she can really, because, frankly, he’s so hot he’s capable of melting an ice cream from five metres away. Is it lust? Is it…oh my, it’s love. And, darn it, turns out they’ve always loved each other and can’t possibly be apart.

Whatever the storyline, those novels helped me heal. Each day I found myself getting stronger as I read more stories of romance. I’m a fast reader, and generally get through a Mills and Boon novel in two hours.

Then, a few summers ago, I decided to write a romance novel. That summer, getting up before sunrise each day, I wrote five romance novels. Finally, I’d come full circle. All those years of reading about romance, and now I was writing stories about love. But was I?

My novels Mosaic, Bluey’s Café and Sisters of the Silver Moon are not romance novels, but they all feature love stories. What I learnt from writing these novels and writing those five romance manuscripts is that I actually find it hard to follow the formula of ‘boy meets girl and now we have to throw lots of obstacles in their way before they can be together’. Although I have quite the backlog of toads to my name, when I met ‘the one’ our path was smooth. Instant. And in my heart, that is what I wish for other women. I hope that one day they look up and ‘he’ is standing there before them, smiling, and ready to open his heart. I hope he won’t be all ego, arrogance and too macho to communicate his feelings.

 

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The alpha men of romance novels might be drop-dead gorgeous, but I want women to do better than that. I wish for them men who make you come ALIVE with their gorgeousness. You know, those men who aren’t just eye candy but are nourishing soul food. Men who are your equal, and don’t treat you as if you’re anything less than royalty. How do we know if someone is right for us? The best way is to close our eyes. How do they feel? What energy emanates from them? Because, it isn’t their dashing looks which will sustain your relationship through the years, but their kindness, respect, integrity, honesty and ability to be emotionally intimate and vulnerable.

I am grateful for every Mills and Boon book (and other publishers, too) I’ve ever read. And I’m so pleased I never gave up on finding true love. Like childbirth, I don’t believe it has to be a painful experience. I also don’t subscribe to the common beliefs:

Every marriage has its difficult times
Every couple fights.

It’s time people started creating their own love stories. Ones that aren’t perpetuating conflict, drama, power games, disrespect or arrogance. Because, you know what? Love isn’t any of those things. Love is accepting, honest, open, kind, encouraging, supportive, respectful, forgiving, compromising, and fair. Love is loving. And yes, even though most of us are dysfunctional in one way or another, and we all have a needy ‘inner child’, so too are we adults capable of making adult choices. Every moment of our relationship interaction is a choice.

 

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As a writer, I have come to accept that I may never have what it takes to be a romance novelist. I can, however, always write about love. For love, true love, is something I know well.

I never imagined (ha!) that I could be a fiction writer. With a background in journalism, and a dozen or so (I keep losing count) non-fiction books under my publishing belt, I was clear that, as a writer, my work was always going to stay that way.

And then I wrote my first novel, Mosaic. It was an amazing experience for me to create worlds where previously unknown characters came to life and had stories to tell. After I wrote it, I was sure: there were no more fiction books inside me. Back to my non-fiction world I went.

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One evening as I was cooking dinner, the entirety of my second novel, Bluey’s Café, came to me in the space of half an hour. It was like the Universe downloaded it into my brain while I was cooking. I spent the next five days typing it up like a crazy woman. A woman who neglected her family, her home, and every other aspect of her life. And even after that book, I was clear: no more fiction books inside me.

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A couple of summers ago, I wrote five romance novels in the space of that one season. I don’t know if they’ll ever see the light of day but what they did do was show me how much I loved the realm of the imagination. From that Summer with ridiculously early morning writing stints, came the growing realisation that I wanted—needed, in fact—to be a fiction writer. Crap! What would this mean? I had spent the best part of twelve years working as a magazine editor, and writing non-fiction parenting and holistic living books alongside that job as well as a being a mother to two home-educated daughters. And now all I wanted to do was write fiction?

I turned life as I knew it upside down to make this dream come true. Unlike non-fiction, I require a completely different writing space and working environment for writing novels. My main requirement is perfect quiet. No husband chatting about sport. No children asking ‘what’s for dinner?’ a few minutes after we’ve had breakfast. And no cat. Although I’m a cat person, I can’t bear the cat being in the room when I write. All that snoring and dreaming of mice just unsettles me.

So, now I’ve created a life where I can write fiction to my heart’s content, and lo and bloody behold, there are non-fiction books screaming to come out. What’s my lesson? I’m a writer, and it is best not to categorise myself too rigidly. Of course, it’s a pain in the butt when it comes to marketing one’s self. Am I novelist? Er, yes. Am I a recipe-book writer? Yes. Do I write books for holistic parents? Yes. Do I write astrology articles? Yes.
I’m a straddler!

 

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As I straddle the worlds of information and pleasure, I trust that the loyal readership I built up through years of my non-fiction work will be just as happy to straddle over to my fiction books and enjoy what I have to offer. And likewise, those readers who have discovered me through my novels, I trust will take a peek at my non-fiction world and try my other books out.

 

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It is my nature to communicate and impart information. As long as non-fiction books ‘ask’ to come out of me, I shall write them. I have, however, found my spiritual home writing novels.

 

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Sisters of the Silver Moon, the first in my Gypsy Moon trilogy, is FREE on Kindle for the next five days. Get it while you can.

From midnight, I’m giving away TEN copies (print) of my novel. Go to Goodreads to be in to win.

Please leave a review on Amazon when you’ve finished reading. With thanks, Veronika x

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Sisters of the Silver Moon, by Veronika Sophia Robinson (Book one in the Gypsy Moon trilogy)

Published by Starflower Press

ISBN: 978-0-9931586-1-2

CIP Available in UK libraries

£7.99 pbk

Azaria Linden, the community herbalist, spends her days tending herb gardens, concocting lotions, potions and tinctures, beekeeping, and being a mother to four grown-up daughters who have left home. Her handcrafted life is the envy of many, but when the lives of her children change in dramatic ways, she wonders if she can keep it all together. Is it possible to still live a heart-centred life when everything around you is falling apart

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Available in paperback from Amazon, other online retailers, good bookshops, Starflower Press, and signed copies from the author: www.veronikarobinson.com

Also available on Kindle.

 

About the Author

Veronika Sophia Robinson is an Australian writer living in rural Cumbria. She’s the author of 12 non-fiction books (one translated into Italian), including the popular cookery book The Mystic Cookfire.

She was editor of The Mother magazine for 12 years, and takes her passion for women, community, natural living, health and well-being, family, home, and food, seamlessly into her fiction writing.

“Veronika brings something new and fresh to women’s fiction. She has a gift for allowing her readers to bond with her characters and feel at home in their locations. No matter where her novels are set, she describes the scenes as if she were a native to the area. With a highly distinctive writing style, she has been described as a true storyteller who writes beautifully descriptive narrative which reads easily, and is warm and clear. A writer of our time, she bravely explores cultural taboos, such as menstruation, women’s sexuality, and death.”

Veronika writes novels, mentors women, enjoys barefoot gardening, and runs a thriving international psychological-astrology practice. Sisters of the Silver Moon is her third novel.

 

Reader reviews (from Facebook/Twitter/Amazon/Email):

 

“Heartbreakingly beautiful.”

 

“Your books are unlike any others I’ve read in terms of themes and references.”

 

 

“When you get to the last page you are going to be mighty relieved there is a sequel! Beautiful characters that I totally fell in love with!”

 

 

“A simply beautiful story. It pulls you in, like being drawn into a warm embrace. Can’t wait for part 2!”

 

“I want a beehive after having read this novel.”

“I’m in a full blown love affair with the book. I was right there on that veranda.”

“I’m reading the Kindle version but wishing I had the real book to hold in my hands. It’s just beautiful.”

“I’m sitting in the sunshine with a bowl of your courgette & potato soup from The Mystic Cookfire, and reading Sisters of the Silver Moon.”

“I’ve really been enjoying Sisters of the Silver Moon. It’s my favourite of your novels so far. Wonderful characters, stunning descriptions. I’ve enjoyed/been devastated by the surprises, and it’s given me quite an insight (and yearning!) into a world I’m actually quite unfamiliar with – the world of women! I come from a family dominated my males. I hung out mostly with male friends prior to becoming a mother and unfortunately I don’t have strong relationships with the few females in my family. So thank you for the wonderful and thought-provoking read. The only downside is that I’ve been staying up at night, way later than is good for me, in order to read it.”

 

 

“Truly lovely characters — I miss them this morning– which is always a sign that I have really connected with a book. It is another gorgeous novel.”

 

“Well that was a morning well spent. I’ve just read Sisters of the Silver Moon.”

“A little bit of everything I love in a book – earthenware mugs, tea, bees, tinctures and balms, birth, knitting, love, sex, and did I read a chicken named Fleur?”

“Your books are the only romance novels I read.”

 

“I have a favourite earthenware mug that has the words ‘I Create my Day’ on it. Having read Sisters of the Silver Moon I need a new mug that says ‘Veronika Creates my Day’. I was transported into a reality that I became totally involved in. I was surprised and a little sad, on finishing, that the characters were no longer part of my day. I enjoyed the mix of family conflict, herbalism, community, bees, tea, knitting and a life well lived. This was an easy, pleasurable read that connected me with new friends and I’m impatiently looking forward to the sequel.”

 

 

Over the twelve years I edited The Mother magazine, I was blessed to find my community. My sisterhood. Women were spread far and wide across this beautiful Earth but together we shared a passion for holistic living and parenting. We may not have agreed on everything, but at the heart of our values was love. Given I live in rural Cumbria, such soul systers aren’t always easy to find though I am blessed to know heart-centred women here.

 

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Leaving my Eliza in the city for a week!

 

Last weekend my family and I headed down south. My 17-year-old daughter, Eliza, had work experience for a week at Working Title Films in London. She had the best time, and I can see that a week of independence in the city has really helped her to blossom and given her the boost she needs to get through the final year of school before university. The look on her face when we picked her up on Friday night was priceless. She thrived on being in such a creative environment with interesting, passionate people. To share her days with like-minds talking about movie scripts, psychology and politics was food for her soul.

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My daughters, Bethany and Eliza.

We all have a type of ‘soul food’ which nourishes us.

I think it’s fair to say that my soul food is evident in the novels I write. The themes which were important to me when I founded and edited The Mother magazine are still important to me: women, family, home, love, community, nourishing food and conscious lifestyle choices. I’ve been told many times by people who’ve read my novels that they want women like that in their lives! Apparently I write about lovely men, too. I’m saving that bit for another blog, though.

Our week away included me doing two more author readings on my author tour.

 

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En route to London, we stopped at my sister’s pub, The Plough, in Bodicote, Oxfordshire. Heidi recently returned from a five-year stint back in our home country of Australia. It was good to see her again and to laugh so hard we had tears trickling down our cheeks. I also did an author reading while I was there. So lovely to see friends, old and new.

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Me and my sister Heidi.

 

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Paul finished off the evening by singing to the locals!

 

After settling Eliza into her London hotel, Paul and I headed down south to deepest, darkest Surrey, and had the pleasure of staying with a dear friend, Keeley. Don’t you love it when you can turn up to a friend’s house and just feel completely at home? That’s what it’s like when I’m at her place.

We then headed to Hampshire and I did an author reading at the Ringwood Steiner School. Such a joy to meet wonderful people, and feel a deep connection with men and women who were previously strangers. Our hosts were Syenna, Tom, Hugo, Charlie and Rupert, and what a wonderful family to be nurtured by. They arranged for a picnic in the playing field at the Steiner School. Paul and I really enjoyed chatting to everyone, and then spending the night with our host family

 

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Summer picnic for my author reading in Hampshire.

 

About four years ago, I saw a lady walking through a car park in town. She had the most gorgeous, blonde, angelic daughters by her side. I had to stop her and say how beautiful they were. But there was something about this lady, within less than half a minute of interaction, which really touched my soul. It wasn’t anything I could readily put into words. It was an energy force. I came home and said to my husband that I’d just met this woman who radiated something really beautiful, and was just the sort of person I’d love as a friend. I still couldn’t tell you what it was, but I fell in love with her vibration. I really kicked myself for not prolonging the conversation and asking her out for a cuppa! For a long time I looked out for her as I walked through town. Maybe she was just a visitor to the town and we’d never meet up again. As fate would have it, turns out she was a subscriber to my magazine. I didn’t know this until sometime later when she came into my life in another way: through my daughter! Eliza is blessed beyond measure to have this AMAZING woman as her Philosophy teacher. I mean, what are the odds?

In April, Paul and I had our vow renewal ceremony. I woke up one morning in February and just put it out to the Universe: who should I ask to be my celebrant? When Nicola’s name came to me in a nano-second, I smiled but dismissed it. She’d never say yes. We don’t even know each other. But, being the impulsive creature I am, I popped a letter in the post and asked. Because, frankly, if you don’t ask for what you want in life you won’t get it! Anyway, to my immeasurable joy, she said ‘yes’. It took a long time to manifest this person, who at a soul level, feels incredibly beautiful to me, but it gives me hope for other people and experiences I wish to create.

 

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Paul and I with Nicola.

Opposites can attract, and diversity is good, but oh my, when you share common interests with someone, and a similar set of values, it nourishes and nurtures you so much. Finding our sisterhood may be a slow process, but I find that the older I get the more clear I am on the values I hold strongly in friendships. Time is precious. Most people live busy, hectic lives. But those couple of hours when you share a cup of herb tea beneath the shade of a fruit tree in the late summer sunshine are priceless.

I hope that for those people who have yet to find their sisterhood, my novels will give them the faith and courage to hang in there and trust that the women/men who are on your wavelength will be drawn into your life. As you read my novels, I hope you join the characters for a cup of tea and really allow yourself to dream. Your vibe attracts your tribe!

 

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Thank you to everyone who has left a review on Amazon for Sisters of the Silver Moon. REALLY appreciated! Thank you! I hope to get the second book in the trilogy, Behind Closed Doors, out for you by Christmas. And the third book, Flowers in Her Hair, out by Summer 2016.

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