Aged three, when my feet followed sequence, without toppling over; I took my inaugural steps – with the prize to touch a giant soft ball.

It was my late grandmother, who bought me my first pair of shoes, red shiny buckles, with a cut out flower on the top of each one. She lived in rural Suffolk, us in London, and I would take them from the box, sniffing them – hoping that I could detect her- comforting, flowery, soapy smell.

I couldn’t always wear my shoes, operations etc. but by the time I was five, my parents had separated, and mother moved us to a town, near my grandparents’ home.

Looking back, I think that Nannie must have cajoled mother into letting me stay with her – occasionally; and I remember the first, because Nannie gave me a red and white, Swiss- girl- style dress, lacey and pretty, and braided my hair.

A promise to explore the quaint little lanes which surrounded her house. She spending the time to engage me, with picture book references – firstly, over a milky drink and biscuit.

I felt the novelty of clever, mother considered me dim- spotting them instantly – “look Nannie some cowslips”.

“Yes, Emmajane, well done. Guess why they are called that?”

Wide-eyed I had looked up at her – because by now, she ‘d encouraged me to sit on the bank, sniffing at them, enjoying their friendly nose-tickles, the buttery talcum-powdery scent – a mummy cuddle. Their delicate petals.

“Well because they look like cow’s lips” She joyfully declared.

“Now, you know these darling, ‘coz they’re my favourite, my primroses. Go on, sniff them in, they smell delicately divine.”

Indeed, they did – distinct, yet a subtle hint of cultivated tea-roses – that adorned her garden.

Every rare special day, we also sat on the bench in her garden. The joyful songs of the wild birds. Her lush- green cherished perfect lawn. The vast array of different varieties of roses; generously sharing their soul-caressing scents, with us. The clusters of Nannie kisses, and cowslips. (In those days we were allowed to pick them.)

-I felt the ever-fluttering butterflies in my tummy, instantly still, with my Nannie, and nature.

Meandering down those lanes, whilst Nannie had no idea that mother had scripted me – about what I was permitted to say. That I sneakily glanced about – could I see any? “Don’t forget, I have spies everywhere.” Nonetheless, all the respite times with Nannie were utterly blissful, immensely soul-nourishing, and full of real smiles. The gifts she gave me immeasurable. The love of nature, herbal remedies, how to bake and cook…

And the magical soul halo of learning, without learning, about tuning into our human senses, as many as each of us are lucky enough to have: sight / sound / touch / smell/ taste – to help calm and heal our tender human souls. To evoke the human mainstay of happiness: – the simple love of our natural earth, and how by connecting to it, truly supports our mental wellness. The content sunny soul glow, that we feel as tingles about our faces, in our tummies and limbs.

All these years on, I revisit those days, my meditation styles vary.

Perhaps my retelling might encourage you to think back to your cherished moments. When curious, give it a try. Just close your eyes and remember… because you will find those feelings come back alive within in you, and it is amazing how many senses you can recall.

It is such a lovely way to make you feel cozy and soothed.

I hope you find this useful.

BTW: My “SUNNY” wishes come straight from those times!

 

Emma xxx