Grateful: Day 53 - Monkey Mind

I love the way oatcakes make butter melt, even if they're cold. I don't know why it happens, though. It just does. I eat (and today, have eaten) oatcakes with butter and cheese. Sometimes crisp Cornish Cheddar and sometimes, creamy, sharp and stinky St. Agur - get it in your mouth, not on your fingers. It mings like a dirty toe, but lordy, it tastes good.

But my secret favourite (oops) is a plain rough oatcake with a shift of butter on it. Somehow, it's just a simple poem of a snack. It's tempting to dress it up, but that unfrilled, honest bite just does the trick.

I was feeling a bit grumpy before I started that train of thought, but now I genuinely feel blessed. Blessed by oats and cows. See - that's why this stuff works. It's focus. It's not that nice things haven't happened today, and it's not that there aren't hundreds more things I'm grateful for, but I was focusing on my moments of stress and bits of feeling annoyed at myself, and tired, so i wasn't seeing them. Oh, that biscuit - steady and wholesome like a farmer - it brought me back, literally, to my senses.

Among the other blessable things today: the pond, of course, and a varied mix of ladies. The ice on cars and frost on grass giving way to forgiving water. And that sun, still shouting at the morning for all it's worth, whatever happens later in the day. It picks out the tops of the trees and the trees that rise up the heath behind the pond and shows them off.

I miss my walk across the heath. My morning route now is fairly closed and doesn't bring me that way. No reason not to choose another route, apart from time. It depends on my priorities. A faceful of beauty (or an extra faceful before the pond) or a few more minutes in Starbucks in front of my laptop. I can feel a leaning.

Yesterday,we did the pingpong ball meditation. That made me snigger like a naughty child at first, but then I saw the utility, and there was so much goodwill and sparkle in the room, it all settled in. The teacher explaining his surreptitious underground pingpong meditations. Better than reading the paper, he said - there's more in it.

I have an orange pingpong ball that I rather like. I might make that my object when I practise this. I'm not sure if that's 'allowed' but I allow it, so let's try that and see what comes of it. I am aching a little bit, both physically, because of yesterday's session, and to do another session. That's part of my stress today. I don't feel I've used my time well. Not the bits I was free for.

I'm doing some work that sometimes quite pleases me, sometimes bores me, but never inspires me. I'm not complaining. That's not what most of my work is like. Most is fun. Most feels like it makes a difference and really speaks to me. This is beautifully paid and I get to work with someone I like and respect, but I don't love the work. Sandison, again... if you were on my invisible jury (one of Rob's phrases, or is it Dave Waller's, via Rob?) then you wouldn't need to deliberate long before finding me guilty.

I think I may have bastardised their concept anyway, so Rob, Dave, I apologise. Sandison, you can take it. I need to do the kind of work I was all excited about yesterday, whether with drop2 (Rob) or State of Play (just me, or sometimes Rob too).

And what am I even grumping about? I had a very, very nice swim. I cycled home up a very steep hill (bonus!). I had breakfast with beloved Ruth. I did some work. I made a cup of tea for the window cleaner. I did some work. I trundled down to The Hub and was delightfully welcomed by Anna and Amaya. Andy Hix was there. Rob Reason. Multi-Alex, though I didn't get a chat in. Kirsty. Lily Ash-Sakula. Lovely, lovely people.

And Catherine. We had a whole long meeting, coffee, good talk, good energies. I'm loving the new quality of the connection we have at the moment. There are some things that seem to be so specifically right for us to be discussing right now, with no fear of looking like a twat, or any such fears assuaged, at least.

And then at The Hub later, we did another play experiment. A few people who stayed for a short while, and joined in even though they had other things to do. Others who stayed. Rob who came and led and played. The three-word scenes bore fruit. The mantras rocked. Lovely co-incidences did dances. Some of us did too.

Home earlier than planned. Not to sound like a transport bore, but I love that I wait no more than 4 minutes for a tube, a tube I took because I was running late - I have so much choice. And a sweet-faced bike waiting patiently at Highgate for me to trundle it up and down the hills to Muswell Hill. All this is to be appreciated. This is why I've made this commitment - to remember such things whatever else is happening.

I feel I have a few blinkers on my face about a couple of things. That's fine. I will find a way to take them off and let the light come in. I'll do it now, and with the help of gifted, astute Sarah Dawrant. Yes, that's what I'll do.

And thank you for such a brilliant work conundrum, and for the massive support of outstanding people all around. I will get to see Heike Reißig this week, if I'm lucky. Let's hope to God I am.

And oh, I suddenly miss Esther Lilley. You'd know, Lill, what to say to this monkey mind that's waving the equivalent of Daniel's pants in front of my eyes and making me a little bit blind. Lilley, have a word, please, if you could.