Cherry Gilchrist

Storming the 60s - an Encounter in Soho

13/11/2018

I really enjoyed my misspent youth in the 1960s, and perhaps it’s time to reveal select episodes from the past. This one concerns a cup of tea in Soho.

At the age of 16, my friend Helen and I spent a weekend in London. It was 1965 and things were just starting to get hot there – and flowery, as you’ll see. Our mothers only consented to this dangerous undertaking provided we stayed in a respectable girls’ hostel – which we did, but there’s more to that than meets the eye, as one night was spent in the house of some rather disreputable musicians in Dulwich. (Innocently, I must add.)

Now, I still have all the schoolgirl diaries that I wrote. They are often cringe-making, but are also a wonderful source of re-discovering what I did when. So recently I was delighted to find the full account of what two schoolgirls from Birmingham got up to in the heady streets of Soho, in Swinging London. Here’s an extract:

‘Went to Carnaby Street but didn’t see anyone interesting. All the boys walking up and down were trying to look famous. The shops were displaying horrible floral ties and swimming trunks. ugh ugh. Walked to Denmark St (the heart of the record industry at the time)…where we met two boys from supposedly up and coming group called Davy Jones and the Lower Third. One was called Teacup…Bought them cups of tea as they were impoverished. Went back to Carnaby St after lunch and looked in disgust at more floral ties.’

Hmm, so we’d met a few young hopefuls. I sent the whole account off to Helen who vaguely remembered one of the boys, and remarked that they were just one of so many groups now lost without trace. I thought I would just check…

And then, to my astonishment, I found that Davy Jones and the Lower Third had actually released a record shortly afterwards. But the real surprise was to discover that a few months later, Davy changed his name – to David Bowie!

Oh yes, and Teacup really did exist, as lead guitarist ‘Teacup’ Taylor.

Could I apply to go on the panel game ‘Would I Lie to You’ with the line, ‘I once bought David Bowie a cup of tea in Soho? When questioned, I’d have to say it was because he couldn’t afford to pay for his own.

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October 24th, 2018

24/10/2018

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Who are these three, and why are they special to me? Find out in my Circle of Nine blog at http://www.circleofnine.org/blog.

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The Suffragettes at Killerton House

26/9/2018

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Imagine a garden party being held on the lawns of a stately home, on July 26th 1910. The ladies are elegantly dressed in summer gowns or long skirts, topped with a smart hat, the men in summer boaters and suits. They stroll on the lawns, admire the roses, and chat sedately while balancing cups of tea. Surely this is the stuff of gracious living? Although a clothing stall set up near the front entrance suggests that it might be a fund-raiser too. And yes, so it is – the party is being held to raise funds for the Anti-Suffrage Movement. Put another way, to stop women getting the vote.

In which case, why are so many women present? The guest list shows plenty of Mrs and Misses. Well, the sad fact is that they too wanted to prevent women’s suffrage. It is the Anti-Suffrage Garden Party, attended by the upper ranks of Devon Society at Killerton House, including several Colonels, Drs, Revs, and a Sir and a Lady. The Acland family, who owned Killerton and were hosting the party, had a curious mix of opinions on in their ranks. A earlier member of the family, Thomas Dyke Acland, had already expressed his views on why he opposed admitting women to universities: ‘Girls are different from boys, their brains are too light, their foreheads too small, their reasoning powers too defective.’ And within the current family members, although the male side was against the idea of votes for women - you can see part of Sir Charles Thomas Acland's garden party speech in the photo below - the women were divided. While Aunt Gertrude was a staunch anti-suffrage supporter, her niece Eleanor was fiercely pro-suffrage.

Killerton House is today owned by the National Trust, and this split in the female side of the family has given an incentive for a great exhibition about the suffragette movement, and the campaign to give women the vote. You can wander round the house and see suffragette memorabilia. But what made more impact on me was the weight of anti-suffrage propaganda – board games mocking suffragettes, cruel jibes, denigration of women’s worth in society. Sometimes the pictures say it all: there’s a panel of pictures of suffragettes, which are in fact surveillance photos taken in 1914 by the security services of the day and included on the Criminal Register.

The final shocker is a map of the world, showing where and women have been given the vote. A surprising number of countries didn’t allow women to vote until the 1940s or 1960s – or even, as in the case of Saudi Arabia, until 2015. Some countries still remain blank, but maybe in many of them there is no chance to vote at all. So, fellow women, let’s be proud to use our vote if we have it, and be thankful we no longer have to fight that particular battle to take an equal place in society.

The exhibition at Killerton runs until Nov 4th, 2018.

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Struan - Sublime Harvest Bread

27/8/2018

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Struan Bread Recipe
Now that harvest time is here, I had an urge to bake Struan bread again. This is a bread whose history is rather vague, but the nicest description I’ve found is that it was traditionally made for the Feast of St Michael (Sep 29th) in Scotland and maybe Ireland too. The loaf should be made by the eldest daughter of the household, then carried into the church to be blessed, and set there in honour of relatives and friends who are no longer with us. Last year I made it with my eldest granddaughter.

I’ve adapted a recipe from http://www.thefreshloaf.com/recipes/struanbread. Its return to popularity was apparently started by Brother Juniper, a lay monk and star baker in California, and I’m looking forward to getting his cookbook, Brother Juniper Bread Book: Slow Rise as Method and Metaphor – I’ve ordered the original version from 1991. Sounds good for mindful baking!

Struan bread is a mix of harvest grains and flours. Now since this recipe has polenta, ie cornmeal, I doubt that this was what they used in the Outer Hebrides! But it goes with the spirit of the dough, and using what you have to hand at harvest-time. I’ve added in millet simply because it’s my favourite added grain at the moment – nice and crunchy.

I’ve added in metric measurements. It’s one of those recipes where you really do need to check it out as you go along, and see whether you need more flour or less water. So hold back on the water, add it a little at a time until you get the right consistency. My first go this year ended up much too sloppy and sticky and was a nightmare to manage! Although it turned out well in the end. Today’s was better-controlled. I currently use a Kitchen Aid to do the kneading, but kneading by hand would indeed be more mindful. If you do use a machine, check that it’s mixed properly early on in the process as there are a lot of different ingredients to blend.

Struan Bread Recipe
Makes 1 large loaf – double the quantity for 2, which means you’ll have one to freeze. Worthwhile, as it takes effort to assemble all the ingredients and time to prepare the dough.
Soaker
3 tablespoons polenta             30-40gm
3 tablespoons rolled oats         25 gm
2 tablespoons wheat bran        10gm
1/4 cup water                          60ml
Dough
3 cups unbleached bread flour 380-400gm
(You can substitute up to 25% wholemeal if you wish)
3 tablespoons brown sugar
1.5 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon instant yeast
3 tablespoons cooked brown rice 50gm
(Short grain is good but long grain is fine)
1.5 tablespoons honey
Half a cup buttermilk (130 ml, or use a little more and reduce water)
3/4 cup water 170ml – Add carefully; you probably won’t need it all
2 tbsp millet
Topping
1 tablespoon poppy seeds
(If you don’t have poppy seeds, use another seed like sunflower)
Mix together the ingredients for the soaker. Cover and allow to soak for at least half an hour or as long as overnight.

Method
In a large bowl, combine the dry ingredients, then stir in wet ingredients and soaker. Add more flour or water until the dough can be formed into a ball that is neither too dry nor too loose in texture. Try to keep it so that you can still handle the dough, even if it is a little sticky. I recommend leaving the millet out of the dough until you approach the end of the kneading process, but overall, knead the ball of dough for 10 to 12 minutes, (8-10 in a food processor with dough mixer). Return it to the bowl and cover with a damp tea towel until doubled in size, approximately 60 minutes.

Remove the dough from the bowl, knock it down briefly to take out the air, and put it into a greased bread pan. Sprinkle a little water on top, followed by a dusting of poppy seeds. Cover the dough in the pan loosely again and allow the loaves to rise until doubled in size again, approximately 40-60 minutes.

Bake these loaves at 180 degrees for about 40-45 minutes. (I used a fan oven; you might need to use 190 in a non-fan one.) It will achieve a high bake colour so don’t be tempted to take it out too early. Test in the usual way, by tapping the bottom of the loaf when you think it’s ready to see if it sounds hollow.

Enjoy! As the website says, the aroma from this bread as it cooks is fantastic, and it makes ‘killer toast’.

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Baba Yaga - witch and Queen of the Night

21/8/2018

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I've long been fascinated by the Russian witch Baba Yaga, and her connection to the Otherworld. If you go to my blog at www.circleofnine.org, you'll find much more about her there. She is a crone version of The Queen of the Night, who I write about in my new book 'The Circle of Nine'.

Russia and I have 'history' together - I visited Russia nearly 60 times, lived for periods in a little wooden house by a river, met artists and craftspeople, ran a business called Firebird, and immersed myself in the traditional legends and culture of the country. My book 'Russian Magic' (originally titled 'The Soul of Russia') was one of the outcomes from this surprising, 15 year adventure.

Baba Yaga is the second of the three female figures that I said I'd write about this week. Well, I need a little leeway - Kuan Yin is already up here, and by next week I hope to return with the Lady of the Hedgerow.

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The Oracle of Kuan Yin

16/8/2018

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The Oracle of Kuan Yin
The goddess of compassion, Kuan Yin, has her own divination system. This comprises one hundred sticks, each inscribed with a number and each carrying a meaning. In Kuan Yin temples in Penang and Singapore I saw at first-hand how people consult this oracle, along with leaving gifts of fruit and flowers for the Lady of Mercy, or ‘she who hears the cries of the world’. She is much immortal spirit as deity, and is probably the most universal sacred feminine figure that we have, as she’s found not only in Buddhism and Chinese religions, but in branches of Christianity and Shintoism as well. Her main symbols are the moon, the sea, a dragon and a lotus flower.

The hundred sticks of the Kuan Yin oracle are shaken in a cylinder – mine is of wood, but those in the temples were of brass, and made an incredible noise as oracle-seekers sat on the floor and shook, shook, shook their tub of sticks up and down until at last one jumped out. Clack, clack clack - it really does work, and you might be surprised how clearly one stick does seem to detach itself from the rest and leap out.

In temples of Kuan Yin, seeking counsel through divination is one of the main purposes of a visit. Here in the West, divination is largely frowned on in sacred places, so we must make our own sacred space or simply use a domestic setting for readings, whether from horoscopes, Tarot cards, palms, or indeed Kuan Yin’s oracle.

Interpreting the Oracle
When you’ve got your significant stick, the number is checked against a book of interpretations. The advice comes first in the form of a poem, which is a symbolic utterance or parable, followed by further sections of more specific interpretation. Here’s a couple from the English translation oracle booklet that I was given in the temple at Singapore.

‘You long for words from heaven to fall from the moonlit sky:
Dim it is and darkened by the racing clouds.
Let not your heart be burdened with sorrow and care:
The clouds will pass and you will begin anew.’ (Lot 38)

‘To climb a mountain with a tiger as your companion,
You will shiver with fear every movement you make.
Good deeds in the past may bring you help,
With them you may survive both safe and sound.’ (Lot 75)

If you can’t get to a Kuan Yin Temple, then Stephen Karcher’s English version of the oracle is available, and straightforward to use. Some of the more traditional ‘forecasts’ are lost, such as those concerning your silkworms or ancestral tombs, but I think he does an excellent job of keeping the spirit of the original in an accessible form.

As with all good divination systems, there’s scope both for profound spiritual readings and some nitty gritty advice on how to conduct affairs of love, business and health. And, as I’ve written in Tarot Triumphs, the spirit in which you approach divination, and the care and attention you pay to the reading are paramount to ensure that it’s a meaningful experience. Divination can be playful or serious, but it needs to be sincere, and come from a genuine desire to know.

I value my own set of Kuan Yin divination sticks, and the two books of interpretation that I have. There’s a strong sense of femininity and compassion in this oracle. I find that it provides a helpful counterpart to the sterner, more masculine and Confucian pronouncements of the I-Ching. Perhaps it will not always ‘speak’ to you – but when it does, you may have the strong sense that this source of universal compassion has listened to your question, and is responding to your need.

See my earlier post on Kuan Yin 30/3/12 (use search box for easy location)
See too www.circleofnine.org for a post on Kuan Yin Moon Meditation. This is where you'll find all the info about my book 'The Circle of Nine' and the nine feminine archetypes it describes.

Books:
The Kuan Yin Oracle: The Voice of the Goddess of Compassion – Stephen Karcher
Bodhisattva of Compassion: the Mystical Tradition of Kuan Yin – John Blofeld
Kuan Yin: Myths and Revelations of the Chinese Goddess of Compassion – Martin Palmer, Jay Ramsay & Kwok Man-Ho

Outside the Kuan Yin Temple in Penang

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Three Female Figures

13/8/2018

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Yes, it's been a while since I posted here! Much of my energy has been going into the new book 'The Circle of Nine', and I've also uploaded to the book's designated website www.circleofnine.org. I'm sharing a post to both sites today, and I've got a week's work ahead of me writing about three different, significant-to-me female figures – a witch, a goddess, and a lady of mystery. These are Baba Yaga, the fearsome, wise and enigmatic Russian witch, the Goddess Kuan Yin, spirit of healing and compassion, and the Lady of the Hedgerow a figure of stone who I recently found in a hedge and who may be part White Lady, part mermaid. I have a story to tell about each one of them, and then I’m also going to let them interact as they will, and see what dances, what images or dreams emerge.

I’ll be posting about them on my two blogs www.cherrygilchrist.co.uk and www.circleofnine.org, and maybe they will inspire posts for other sites too. I've written about Kuan Yin on this website before, and if you search you'll find an archive blog. My new write-up will be different though, and will probably include her moon meditation.

For now, here are some images of the three figures to initiate the process.

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Golden Quinces, fruit of delight

8/5/2018

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With our little quince tree bursting into bloom, I felt it was time to renew my love affair with the quince. Although it’s not common to see this golden fruit on sale very often, and few people cook with it today, it was once highly prized. In the Middle Ages, quince trees were only planted by wealthy folk, and the dishes cooked with quinces ranged from preserves to stews, where the quince provides a delicious sweet/sour background for the meat, and sweetmeats. Sometimes dishes of quinces were left out simply so that their delicate perfume could fragrance the air.

Quinces originated in Mesopotamia, and it was the ancient Greeks who began to cultivate them, calling them ‘kydonia malon’, meaning ‘apple of Kydonia’, ie modern day Khania in Crete. Many early references to apples, such as Aphrodite’s ‘apple of love’, and the golden apples of the Hesperides, may in fact be to quinces. They were used in the Middle East, then migrated to Europe, perhaps during the time of the Crusades.

You can’t eat a quince raw, as a general rule, but you can turn it into wonderful dishes – quince ‘cheese’, often known as membrillo, jelly, cakes and stews. I first started to experiment with quince recipes when I had an allotment in Bath; further down the plot was a neglected quince tree, on a strip of land which no one laid claim to. I watched these knobbly, pear-shaped fruit through the summer, and waited patiently until they’d started to ripen in mid-autumn. You need to wait until they turn a deep yellow, but not until they start to discolour. Later, when we moved to Exeter, I gained permission to go quince scrumping in an old medieval courtyard, where a beautiful quince was planted. And now, in Topsham, we have our own dwarf quince tree which looks, according to this show of blossom, as though it will grace us with some fruit this year. I certainly hope so! I'll add some quince recipes below, for those who are keen to try. I'm told it's the quince season in Australia right now.

The most famous quince recipe, sold in delicatessens at a very expensive price, and sometimes served with gourmet cheese plates. The fruit ‘cheese’ means a paste, and isn’t related to milk cheese. This recipe has been known in various forms since the medieval period.

Quince Cheese (also known as Membrillo or Quince Paste)
1 ¾ kg quinces – (you can make this with any weight, provided matched with sugar)
300 ml water
granulated sugar
caster sugar.

Wash the quinces, but don’t peel or core them. Cut them into quarters and put them into a saucepan with water. Simmer until soft, then put them through a sieve. (Warning! This is hard work but needs to be done, to get the hard pieces out. A food processor won’t do the job.) Weigh the pulp and put into a large pan with an equal weight of granulated sugar. Stir over a low heat until the sugar dissolves. Continue cooking, stirring continuously, until the mixture becomes so thick it is leaving the sides of the pan. (You may need to add more water – take care that it doesn’t burn.) Turn into shallow tins lined with greaseproof paper. Leave to dry in a warm place, eg airing cupboard, for 3 -4 days, or in an oven on its lowest setting for 12 hrs. (I found 3 hrs worked perfectly well.) This will make the paste easier to handle and also improve the texture, giving it a slight chewiness. Cut into pieces, the size of a square of chocolate, and roll in caster sugar. (It’s not strictly necessary to add more sugar at this point.) Pack in airtight box with greaseproof paper between each layer. (It’s Raining Plums – Xanthe Clay, with my notes in brackets.

Sticky quince and ginger cake
Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
This makes a pretty, moist cake studded with poached quince and stem ginger. Save any leftover poaching syrup – it will solidify into a jelly and is delicious spread on toast. Makes one 23cm cake.
150g butter, softened, plus a little more for greasing
2 large-ish quinces (about 600g)
160g caster or vanilla sugar
160g runny honey
1 small thumb fresh ginger, peeled and finely diced
Juice of ½ lemon
250g plain flour
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp baking powder
Good pinch of salt
180g caster or vanilla sugar
3 eggs, plus 1 egg yolk
100g creme fraiche
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 balls stem ginger in syrup, drained and chopped
For the topping
3 tbsp syrup from the ginger jar
3 tbsp quince poaching liquid
2 tbsp granulated sugar
Heat the oven to 170C/325F/gas mark 3. Grease a 23cm x 5cm round, spring-form cake tin, line the base and sides with baking parchment, and butter the parchment.

Peel, quarter and core the quinces. Cut each quarter into 1cm slices. Put the quince into a large saucepan with 600ml water, the sugar, honey, ginger and lemon juice. Bring to a boil and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the quince is very tender and has turned a deep, rosy amber colour – about an hour and a half. (NB - in my experience, it's often much quicker - even as little as 10 mns! I recommend not cutting the quince too small or you may end up with mush - usable, but not quite as nice as chunks. The quince may not always turn red either but that's nothing to worry about.) Drain, reserving the liquor. Leave the quince to cool, and in a small pan reduce the liquor until thick and syrupy.

Sift the flour, ground ginger, baking powder and salt into a bowl. In a separate bowl, beat together the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. Add the eggs and yolk one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in a few tablespoons of the flour, the creme fraiche and vanilla, fold in the rest of the flour, then the poached quince and chopped ginger. Spoon into the prepared tin and smooth the top with a spatula. Bake for about an hour and a quarter (check after an hour – if the cake is browning too quickly, cover with foil), until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.

While the cake is cooking, whisk together the ginger syrup and poaching syrup to make a glaze. As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, pierce the top a few times with a skewer and brush on the glaze, letting it trickle into the holes. Sprinkle over the sugar and leave to cool in the tin for 20 minutes. Remove from the tin and leave on a wire rack to cool completely.
Notes: Freezes very well. And you get half a small jar of jelly out of it – just save the left over liquid and let it set. It has an intense and sweet flavour.

Lamb Shanks and Quince Tagine
½ tsp cumin seeds
½ tsp coriander seeds
100gm unsalted butter
4 Lamb shanks
1 tsp ground ginger
½ tsp cayenne pepper
3 garlic cloves, crushed
2 large onions, roughly chopped
400ml lamb stock
½ cinnamon stick
4 tbsp clear honey
20g fresh coriander leaves, coarsely chopped
1 quince, peeled, quartered and cored
1 lemon, juice & 2 strips of rind
½ tsp saffron, dissolved in 2 tbsp boiling water

Grind the cumin and coriander together. Heat 75gm butter in a large casserole and brown the lamb on all sides. Remove the meat and set aside. Add all the spices (except the saffron), and the garlic and onions; cook for 2 minutes. Season and add the stock. Add 2tbsp honey and about a third of the coriander. Bring to the boil, return the lamb to the casserole, then turn down to a simmer. Cover and cook over a low heat for 1 ½ hrs until meltingly tender.

Meanwhile, put the quince in a small saucepan and cover with water. Add the lemon rind, juice and the remaining honey. Bring to the boil, then simmer for 15-20 mns until tender.

When the lamb is cooked, remove the shanks and cinnamon stick and keep warm. Add about 4tbsp of the quince poaching liquid, the saffron and its water. Bring to the boil and reduce to a thickish sauce. Taste and season.

Slice the quince and heat the remaining butter in a frying pan. Sauté the quince slices until golden. Return the lamb to the casserole and heat everything through. Gently stir in the remaining coriander and add the quince. Serve immediately with couscous or bread.

Quince Stew
Fry 2 large oinions. Add 2lb shoulder of lamb, beef or veal, cut into 1 inch cubes, brown the meat. Add 1 ½ tsp ground cinnamon, ¼ tsp grated nutmeg, salt and pepper to taste. Cover with water and simmer for 1 hr. Then add 2 ripe quinces, peeled, cored & cut into similar chunks, plus 4 oz soaked yellow split peas. Simmer for 15 mns, then add 4 tbsp lemon juice and 1 – 2 tbsp of sugar. Simer a further 15 mns or until ready.
(Found on a forum, said to be from Claudia Roden’s Book of Jewish Food. I’ve used lamb shoulder, and I soaked the split peas for 2hrs, and parboiled them too to be on the safe side.)

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April 03rd, 2018

3/4/2018

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I welcome feedback and comments if they are connected to my post, and are polite. And I don't usually mind students of English trying out their skills if they stick to the topic. However, if anyone posting tries to advertise something, even if it's just in the title or email address, then I'm going to be strict about deleting these from now on. So, please don't post here unless you are genuinely interested in the blog, and are not pushing your own wares. Thank you!

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'Alchemy and Happiness'

20/1/2018

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Alchemy has always been an interest of mine, its images emerging spontaneously in dreams since I was very young.It was perhaps no coincidence that the first full-length book I was asked to write was on the history of Alchemy. I immersed myself in its complex history, with a tight deadline to meet, and the result was 'Alchemy: The Great Work', first published by Thorsons in 1984. It has been through several editions since, and has recently been republished by Red Wheel Weiser. But what I want to share with you today is a moving account of finding the alchemy of happiness in your work, even when life is throwing the hardest challenges at you. My close friend Erica Witt, a psychotherapist and an accomplished artist, has recently been diagnosed with Parkinsons Disease. But in amidst the hardships that this brings, she finds that 'The Great Work' still works its magic, and happiness is still to be found. Scroll down to read it.

Guest blog by Erica Witt: The Alchemy of Happiness

When I lose myself in an art project, whatever it is, I look up and the world around me has a glow about it, the colours more vibrant, the shapes more defined and fascinating. There's a smile in the air and I am included in the pleasure of it. The moment passes. Or maybe it lingers for a while. What happened? Was it my chemical endorphins that got stirred? How can I call them back? Was this vision a by product of my creative process, an integral part of it, or a reality that is always there and one that I synchronise with at moments. Random. Casual. Unexpected. Or if I expect them, those moments, they are not there. Non rational. There's no direct link. Just moments where the world lights up, and me with it. Happiness, freedom, connection, pleasure, the creative principle. Drops of an elixir in the search for the meaning of life.

To make the analogy with alchemy, there is a pot, a cauldron, a holding, for these moments of happiness. It is ourselves. There is a choice to be made. These moments can disappear in the pot. Become memories or dismissed because they have vanished and cannot be commanded to return. To believe that these moments have an identity and an elusive presence, a recurring value takes careful observation and effort. just like the effort of building up the skills and the artistic techniques, and repetitive practices and endless hours of experimentation and play that go into the mix of creative endeavour. How many years did the alchemists put in, slaving away over a hot pot? How long does it take to hone and polish creative skills, sculpture, painting, musicianship, writing?

Besides the effort and the willpower and determination there are other elements to learn and manage and put to use. Self doubt and hubris to be negotiated. Is what I am making rubbish? It's not as good as I thought. So and so does it better. There's a long line of illustrious forebears and Great Artists and Creative Beings way beyond comparison. Why bother? Why me? And then there are our stories and distractions to be heard, the ones about being discovered, late in the day, as a misplaced genius or a budding wonder.

The moments of happiness don't care about all that. The end product is no business of theirs. But the skills that throw up the spark of happiness also make the pot, the container, the alchemical transformer. Noticing the sparks of awareness, treasuring the moments of beauty and simplicity, creates a responsiveness both to ourselves and the outside world. A recognition of something that is in all the atoms of the universe.

The alchemical pot takes the sludge of our everyday world and shakes and stirs it. What is created in the process is sparks of connection and beauty and love. All the things we Sufis talk about and long for and work hard to create the right biosphere to transform the sludge as best we can.

Perhaps we are playing our part in what the old alchemists called The Great Work.

For me, this is all being tested afresh. Our home is littered with things that I have made, painted, sculpted, sewn. We are getting older. How many of them do I want to keep? Many are half finished or could be taken further. ( i am not a Patrick Heron, or a Barbara Hepworth, much as I would like to be. I am Erica Witt. )

Added to that, I have just developed, the diagnosis is very recent, Parkinson's Disease. Among the various neurological symptoms, over the past six months I have developed an increasingly violent tremour in my right hand and arm. Writing has become spider squiggles. Stone carving is exhausting, painting is fraught with drips and shakes and impromptu squiggles. Frustrating. Anxiety escalates easily and I find myself down the lane marked Why Bother before I have even put my coat on.

What is fascinating tho is how I can call on something other in myself. Sometimes. I slip into the melancholy " why bother " or the illusory, delusory, repetitive realms of anxiety. I believe them both because they have become part, it seems, of the autonomic nervous system, like the uncontrollable muscular spasms of my arm. And then, at a certain moment I remember. I also have a choice. I can open my eyes wider, which involves lifting my head a little and taking a breath in, also an involuntary movement once I have started the process. A spark comes into view, left field. It flashes at me. Remember me. I am your Friend. Go outside. Look at the sky. Smell the air, the autumn leaves, listen to the traffic and the noises of busy lives. Open your heart, be peaceful, phone a friend.

Little sparks of unbidden happiness lighting up my world. Have those moments of beauty looking up from my creative endeavours, coalesced into an inner spaciousness. Time will tell and innumerable provocations will test. May I remember a deeper happiness holding me gently in the palm of the universe. Unbidden. Not earned. Searched for and not forgotten.

This was written for a series of talks on the Alchemy of Happiness: see sufiway.org