Letter to a New Year

2015 year

Dear Friend

So another year has wound down and it’s time to celebrate and start again…

To ‘start again’ if only to break in a new calendar… To learn to live in a new year and to remember to write 2015 instead of 2014 – whenever I mark the day… To decide what this year is for – what will continue, what will end and what will begin… again..? Since it is the again time as well as the fresh start time.

Time is marked by the passing of days, then weeks along with months, and so seasons turn into years… And as every day is the seed of a new start, so comes the new year, fresh with promise, ready to grow and give, and ready too to change and reinforce.

This is traditionally time to ‘resolute’ – to resolve the future with goals and games – now named resolutions… Time to fix, to change, to plan, to expect, to shape, to realise, to escape, to grow, to mutate, to travel or maybe, finally to stand still…

Or it can be a ‘good riddance that’s over’ time, or ‘I don’t bother with resolutions because I don’t keep them’ time… or, for many, it’s simply another day… or yet still a day to be shunned as non special for as many reasons as there are people on this planet…

And though a common enough human experience, with the calendar clicking around again, each New Years Eve is composed of each of our own memories, thoughts and feelings, the circumstances of so many happenings, on so many levels, so it is also entirely our own…

And will THIS new years eve make a difference or simply be another day sailed upon in the sea of your life..?

Time to decide, time to collude, to now set intentions that will actually turn into actions… So easily said…

So how to commit to a chain of real changes..? To commit in this context is to state – to write, to speak, to share…

First of all, create the container to claim and then draw your dreams, promises and plans… A journal, a piece of paper, a keyboard (with CPU and screen attached of course), or a flipchart – or what ever works for you, that you can come back to and review…

Do this in a ‘party’ where you can – share with a friend, on a forum, publish on line – your PUBLIC commitment will mean so much more… For THIS purpose (and for so many others), remember to seek the people that will nurture your desires and support you in giving them wings…

Make this creation a ceremony… Light a candle, or dance a dance, or what ever works for you; design your own ritual – to mark the boundaries of these new beginnings…

Now set your intentions… Decide to let new thoughts flow, new ideas download, decide to let your intuition rule and your heart have its way… Now is the time to feel, see, hear, taste and touch your schemes and dreams, and to literally let them take flight!

Now scribe! Simply ‘heart storm’ – fling down anything and everything that comes into your heart, into your brain, into your gut and your senses – write it, draw it or scrawl it – just let it out and get it out!

Now look your scribings over – is there a sense, a pattern, what are the priorities..? Here your head can join in, but not take over… If you are with others – talk this through – what within your heart stormings will mark out this new year for you..? What will flavour it, shape it and fly it to fruition?

Pick out the priorities – feel your way over them… Then create the final list or picture or graph or map… This is now refined to encompass the year ahead – clearly defined for your heart to own and structurally outlined for your head to action…

Now give your goals air – breath them, speak them, share them, publish them, post them on a wall…

Then seal the deal – state your commitment – how will you ensure this happens..?

Answer these questions and add the answers to your plan:

* How will you know if your resolutions have happened?
* How will you feel when the HAVE happened?
* What will have changed as a result? And…
* What will happen if they do NOT come to pass..?

To move from Dream to Action, now ask and answer:

* What now are your actions?
* When will you take them?
* Who completes them. You or will you share or delegate?
* Where will they take place?
* And how will they take place – these are the fine details…

And these answers now are your Action Wings, they cannot survive on paper alone and cannot grow in the dark. Move now, flow forward at what ever pace works for you, and take them one simple step at time.

This is your Yearling Plan, so promise to visit and revisit your intentions, like old friends – so set the reminders in your calendar or diary now, with your friends, with your forum, with your tribe – at least once a month, for the year ahead. And as you revisit your resolutions, revisit your resolution ritual too – renew the spirit of the New Year, of that special energy that you created and committed to at the beginning, and this means you are bringing it back in to your plans and actions again where ever you are in time, how ever you feel, what ever has changed…

And through the year, know that it is all good that the resolutions will flex and they will resolve and they will alter and they will be and they will exceed… As you live and relive them and nurture them along, they will unfurl and uncoil or explode or simply transpire… So let them…

This is YOUR year… so have it – love it and live it, with your dreams and goals and perfect plans giving it wonderful wings…

So here’s to 2015… the year of..?

Yours, already, with surprise and delight…

                  Sandra

PS: Grab the opportunity to embrace the New Year energy to start a new project, get something off the ground, clear some blockages, or get a fresh perspective, by having a New Start Coaching session, at a specially reduced price – all the details are here…

Letter to Christmas Expectations

Xmas Anticipation

Dear Friend

Tan tar a!  Tan tan tar a..! An expectant fanfare announces that the big day is nearly here…

So Christmas is a-coming and with it our expectations – conscious or unconscious – are building… Building and growing – waiting to peak in a day of cosy rosy picture postcard family lugubriousness, or growing like mushrooms in our unlit subconscious, silently waiting for a glory day of mirth and merriment, or a gory day of festive misery…

And yuletide logs are thrown onto the fire of our expectations by the retail world – assaulted as we are with adverts and offers and reminders and jingles from (at least) November onwards… Gah! – I loathe doing Christmas too soon! I want my expectation to build slowly and in due order and in MY Christmas book – that cannot happen at least until mid December…

Then I shall stoke my own festive fire thank you and will dust off the Christmas music and journey into the loft to liberate the decorations.  Then I will doff the Santa hat (pink of course) and the angel earrings.  Then I will eat mince pies, drink mulled wine and strange spirits (like port and advocaat) so my taste buds will know that there will be a blow out of huge calorific proportions to come.  That there will be one day and one day alone when I shall eat Christmas pudding (don’t like it that much, so once is enough thank you very much).  And, there is a countdown so that the very same taste buds can’t wait to partake of a foodie feasting day and my greed will dictate that my stomach can anticipate stretched and loaded fullness yet again.

For many, it will simply be ‘another day’, for Christmas nay sayers and don’t carers and people of other cultures and beliefs.  For shift workers – it can be the same old same old, or else the addition of Santa hat and a mince pie, along with Yuletide bonhomie will tincture it differently and either make it harder (to make the effort to be there) or lighter and easier because you are there in full Christmas swing.  And always – know it or not, there will be expectation…

This is an expectation built on millennia of anticipation – a Christian celebration of the birth of a saviour; of more recent culture and custom demanding that we eat, drink, party and give gifts.  Ah – the anticipation of gifts, even for the adult… a sense of jumping back into childhood – waiting for Father Christmas – to unwrap and reveal treasures intended for us, for those things we childishly craved… that moment of feeling the parcel, of rattling it and weighing it up – guessing what lies within.  The joy of recognition (I got what I wanted) or surprise (an unexpected and cherished gift).

So if as adults, we experience a certain neutrality around receiving and unwrapping – is that born out of the fact that we have done this so many times in our lives; or that we insulate ourselves against the disappointments of more socks and bath cubes; or that some one some where buys us stuff and doesn’t know or care what is that we really want or that would really deliciously please us???

And the expectation is a commercialisation too of our sensibilities – that we should be connected families, that we should be jolly and merry and bright; that Christmas is a day of love and light… That the normal rules do not apply and every one will ‘behave’ and be happy.  So if Christmas is instead a day of shade and shadow – darkened by our heightened expectations, worn out by toil and tears, somehow the weight is more.  The gathering clouds of subconscious script spew forth acid rain on our brains and in our hearts.  This should be perfect day is angry, is dull, is lacking and is more so, because of a set of failed expectations, all balled up into one calendar day…

And I know those whose expectations lead them to loathe Christmas – they had bad Christmases past, where someone died or got divorced or beaten or forgotten or what ever bombshell sticks in the brain, this being glued to Christmas, to trigger off more bad memories and the anticipation of dread and repetition.

Yet these happenings are not Christmas, they may have been magnified by the expectation – an opposition of Christmas joys, yet they really are separate.

We can all choose our Christmas, in that it is after all, as well as a communal holiday – a state of mind.  Even better when it becomes a matter of heart, or heart over matter.  Let’s create our own Christmas – where we take the opportunity to kick back, relax, connect and hyperlink to the best parts of our childhood, or what ever way would be the best way for us to celebrate and cherish and relish what we have; feeding from the positive energy that so many are contributing into and not buying into anticipated angst.

Consciously create your very own positive expectations… feel Christmas coming like a tingle, a simple gorgeous shiver… and enjoy this moment… this reality now – shaped by what is to come – but not making it all dependent on then.  And if this is a burden, then simply think about the feelings you would choose to have and that will start to raise the dark curtains of impending doubt, rather than focussing on them…

So Christmas is all about expectation – we wait a full year for it after all, and having waited, let’s make the most of it and not fall into the least of it.

I expect Christmas will be what it will be after all, and I’ll choose Choicemas instead of Crisismas any day.

With love, as always

        Sandra

PS: To admit to a Christmas Cliché – the published book version of these Peachey Letters makes a perfect present ALL year round…  See these letters together with new material, to show you just how Peachy life can be.  You can get yours from my website and also from Amazon in either paperback or Kindle… or from any good book website from around the world…

Letter to Christmas Malady

Xmas Heart Bauble

Dear Christmas Malady

So we here we are and as I write this I have a pounding headache, I’m oh so tired and my muscles ache… Basically I’m suffering from a seasonal condition called C.A.D… Christmas Affective Disorder…

Every where I go, I meet people who are similarly afflicted – sniffing and croaking and bravely battling against Christmas maladies, afflictions, conditions, illnesses, or what ever label you choose to stick on them…

So this is Sickmas and what have we done to deserve this disease?  Why is this when now should be the time to rest and rejoice and yet our bodies rebel and implode instead?

So many Christmases I have spent with a box of tissues by my elbow, with antibiotics, paracetamol and a ready cupboard full of medicines, that I wonder what provokes this, and why it is such a part of the common Christmas experience of so many fellow sufferers..?

Could it be the mystery of the change of season?  Winter comes in, bringing chill and ice and fog… does it permeate the bodies of creatures – even human ones, who should slow down and find a form of hibernation, instead of speeding and shopping and labouring and living too hard for the time of year?

Without realising it, thinking we are modern and hardy and masters of the planet, we are still prone to the time of year… so as the seasons slow, so should we too??  In many ways we do… I have endless conversations with female friends about how the cold and dark inspire us to stay indoors more; to love the cosiness of winter clothes – to retreat to our caves until the spring sunshine beckons us outdoors again.

And it is as if we are attacked with illnesses – the viruses and germs coercing with nature to force us to slow down and lie down, swaddled in blankets – to take seasonal care of ourselves.  It is as if our bodies allow the onslaught so that we store and nurture our energy for the new year to come.

Yet here is the thing… Christmas for so many of us means to speed up, to run around, to work at playing… To travel; to shovel food and drink of Christmas excess into our bodies… To please, to chatter, to try, to cook, to wrap, to run, to share, to please…

And ‘to please’ turns to disease… Otherwise known as dis-ease – an unbalance, a causal effect wreaked on our systems, as we humans ignore nature’s balance.  Yet as earth’s children and creatures we must survive – we cannot stop completely, we must keep the wheels of the world turning and feed the body; and so in our 20th Century brains, we would not reckon on being slaves to the rhythms of season and solstice.

Yet our ancestors knew.  Our pagan parents knew when the solstice turned the tide towards longer and lighter days; and this feasting time began back then – not as the Mass of Christ, but a feast of celebration for the end of the dark winter era; of moving back towards the light, of quickening and growth and the start of a new cycle of seasons…

And our bodies still have this history imprinted in them – we respond to moon and weather – whether consciously or not, and so Sickmas is a reminder of this natural fact.

And could Christmas, itself, make us sick??  Could it be that all this expectation and energy expended into a seasonal and universal mass celebration turns in on itself and attacks us when we are wintered down?

Or is it simply that we know that there is a ‘slow’ (time) coming, that we can be ill and therefore still, and so let the latent stress and illness that has been lurking and kept at bay by busyness, creep out into the open, presenting itself to be healed and cosseted and given its’ due attention?

I believe that it is all of these things and that the knowing or not, probably does not make an iota of difference, quite literally to how we feel.  That is the mystery of malady…

So the Solstice is turning now and as the lengthening day light calls us to a new year, let’s choose comfort and healing and cosiness, choose them over the rat race and speed and effort and electric light.

And in accepting and surrendering to this so called seasonal ‘suffering’, most of all, let’s accept ourselves and not dwell with the devil of disease, but simply be, and to simply let our hearts accept the message that the season and our bodies are telling us… that it is time to slow and to heal and most of all to love… as well as to celebrate.

Yours with sweet surrender

       Sandra

PS: To admit to a Christmas Cliché – the published version of my Peachey Letters will  make you feel better and be a perfect present too, ALL year round… A collection of the Letters from this blog have been gathered together, along with new material, into book form.  It makes the perfect present, for you, family and friends… You can buy Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life on my website here or from Amazon (in Paperback and Kindle), and from all good book websites around the world…

Letter to December

Dear December

Here you are… the clock and the calendar have ticked and clicked around to you yet again…

My December is the feeling of Christmas coming – a slow and relentlessly gorgeous anticipation of celebration, of receiving and of feasting.  Then there is the savoured future joy of family and friends coming together; of anticipated gifting and unwelcomed bloating.

That is December in my head and heart; and then there is the external twelfth month landscape too.  Sunlight and chill combine to crisp refreshment of the senses – the cold stinging us into action, so we must dance and cush through our outdoor chores to return as quickly as we can to the internal warmth and comfort of anti-cold, back to our own warm and cosy indoor comforts.

December’s outdoor world is alternatively gloomy and sunny.  I dive into the lush, sunny, crisply cold days. These days are meant for walking, and I devour them with all my senses – frost under foot, slickly wet autumnal leaves carpeting the ground, a lack of smell sense, bare and beautiful trees; ice skimming and then thickening the surfaces of puddles and ponds, widening as the thermometer dips…

These are my December days and as we troll down to the end of the year, the dark nights deepen and thicken and deprive us of daylight.  On past winter days I have risen in the dark, worked in caves of chores and returned back to my lair, hidden in the same darkness – a kind of celestial vampire, never seeing, and so starved of the sun.

Then somehow we contrive to bring the outside be-wintered December into our interiors.  Chopping down and dragging in fir trees or counterfeiting them with tinsel or plastic representations of their tree selves.  Then we spray and scatter pretended snow and bring in boughs of holly and mistletoe – the forgotten ghosts of our pagan past.

So my indoor world transforms to Christmas land with decorations collected over decades and added into every single year.  Boxes brought down from the dark attic, waiting their turn, and when opened, bringing with them joyous shocks of remembrance – a year of Christmas stored in the glistening darkness, germinated and then liberated to live in the Christmas light for a few shiny, glamorous weeks.  Then the cards trickle in and are displayed – from colleagues, cohorts and friends; from long lost cousins and nearly long lost friends of decades gone.

I love the preparations… I take and make them languorously and slowly, relishing the joy of Christmas transformation, dining and dancing, of presents wrapped to be deliciously unwrapped.  To choose the present that will delight the gifted one, that will make them pause and smile.  There are Christmas decisions to be made – whether to take the time trodden path of tradition or to spice it up with modernity; then again to take and shake all the elements together to make it MY chosen Christmas, a blend of me and of history?

My December is flavoured with gluttony and gastronomy.  Spices tingle and warm through mulled wine, mince pies and other wintery delicacies.  Chocolates rustle, jostle and abound.  Spirits chink in glasses and some seem reserved solely for Chringle tide – port and advocaat stay firmly at the back of my drunken cupboard for 11 months of the year, and then in December are opened, poured and appreciated in their own spiritual season.

December is winter through and through.  The distinct and distant possibility of snow can transform our outdoor world and seize up the systems of transport and safety – slipping us up, or blanketing our dull world with white ethereal beauty.

December is light and shade.  A tingled anticipation or a mangled realisation of misplaced expectation.  Expectation or negative association can be heavy and brutal, so consciously choose delicious anticipation and feel and fly through your own December.

So December is a choice, a feeling, a flux of emotions.  Choose wisely and craft your Christmas to you.  For all that your December is, I wish you joy of it, to love and revel in the now of it.

So dream your December, deem your December; live it and love it.

And so Dear December, another end here begins…

Yours, again and again

            Sandra x

PS: All the letters published before this one, have now – with added material, been turned into a book, which you can buy just about any where in the world. With new and remembered material, they come together to show me and you, that life is worth living, loving and celebrating… It has been featured in the national press and received amazing reviews… Buy it in Paperback from any well known book site or in Kindle on Amazon

Peachey Speeches

Dear Everyone

As more and more people get to hear about my book, I am starting to be asked to talk about it – at networking meetings, conferences, etc.  Even as a seasoned speaker, this has felt like a real vulnerability, so it seems that to get over the fear I just have to do more of it!!

So, when I reached that special moment in any book’s life – seeing proposed designs, I thought I would do some market research – as that very same week I got to speak, in front of nearly 200 women…

I had 2 designs to chose from and decided to share them with the IGNITE! 2012 conference, where I was speaking about the book.  So – the cover has been chosen and now the designers are working on the interior designs – these are very exciting times and I can’t wait to see the book, in the flesh for the very first time!

The book is now taking on a life of its’ own and has its’ very own social media prescence!  You can follow it on Twitter @PeacheyLetters or Facebook at Peachey Letters Book Circle.

As a book of Love Letters, publication is set for 14 February 2013, yet if you buy your copies in advance, you will get them postage free, at a reduced price and signed by the author – check out the pre-publication offer here…

I’m getting lots of ideas for more letters too, and would love to know if YOU have any ideas – just pop on a comment below.

With warm regards

     Sandra

Sandra Peachey – Author: Peachey Letters (:-))

That’s me on stage at IGNITE! 2012

The first Book Reviews are in…

The first reviews for the book ‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’, are in …

I love, love, love your book … you are such a talented and humerous writer, the combination of which make your book such an enjoyable and delightful read … You have given birth to a beautiful unique gift… it now has it’s own journey to take and who knows which people’s lives it will touch…
~ Liz Ivory – Co Founder of Broadband Consciousness

Sandra Peachey has produced a fascinating book of heartfelt letters … As a reader it invokes a desire to start writing my own letters to experience the flow of exploration and insight, as well as drawing together my own life story … Congratulations to Sandra for a heartfelt, moving and insightful read.
~ Sue Maggott – ‘Inspirational Poetry’

A M A Z I N G ………. this is such a wonderful, moving, heartfelt read, it is absolutely compelling. What I love about it most is your raw honesty and how I was able to relate to so much of what you describe …Your ability to communicate what you feel and who you really are is wonderful …You convey so much about the artist you are – beautifully creative, sensitive, a deep thinker and a beautiful soul that cares so much about life and the people in it. AWESOME, truly AWESOME.
~ Sarah Christie – Owner, ‘Effective Outcomes’

Oh my – for me it’s the ‘Letter To The Juice’. Joyful Juicing and bellisimo Bellini’s! Wonderful “bespoke cocktail” and setting delicious Peachey intentions. Mmmm, my mouth waters and spirit wants to drink up her fill! Thank you Sandie, simply beautiful and mouth wateringly wonderful.
~ Lynn Burns – Founder of ‘Suddenly Single Money’

An amazing book in which Sandra shares her thoughts and feelings in a way that will touch so many. Heartfelt and inspiring – a book that helps us think about what we have, what we want and what’s truly important in our lives. Beautifully crafted – this book will help you not only learn more about Sandra, but also more about yourself. You’ll laugh, cry, learn and be entertained.
~ Susan Brookes-Morris

I found the book brave and liberating and it has certainly made me feel grateful and reflective of all in my life past, present and future. Also, in such an instant, technological, fast moving, instant gratification, social media dominated society – the power of a letter has never been so strong as after reading your book.
~ Tara Fennessy

The book is a lovely gift to your self or for a friend to share, in many of life’s highs and lows with a modern twist! Sandra weaves her magic spell and takes you on an emotional journey to release joy and tears in equal measures while you read her delicious letters. Be prepared to open your heart (have tissues by your side) as you make each rite of passage with her and enjoy the surprises along the way!
~ Gill Potter – Author of Sacred Paths Entwined www.joyfulsteps.com

It is delightful, especially from an autobiographical standpoint…and the pictures make it fun too!! What a great idea for a book….letters. I really appreciated the personal ones to your Mother and Father, and to Love … This is YOUR song and it is lovely.
~ Gigi Delmonico

Written with aching honesty and uncontrived eloquence, Sandra Peachey has beautifully captured the art of questioning, understanding and appreciating our journey through this thing we call life.
~ Isabel Gainford – Visual & Verbal Branding Specialist

Your book is phenomenal. I’m so jealous that I didn’t write it! It has every ingredient for success and I felt just about every emotion there is on reading it.
~ Janice Bradbury

Get Your Own Signed Copy:
Just click the link to
find out more and order your copies here…

Blog Becomes Book!!

Dear Peachey Reader

I’m very excited … what started as my own creative challenge, has turned me into my own best coach and then a writer … and so, of its’ own momentum – Blog becomes Book and you can buy your own copies now!

The reaction to my Peachey Letters has blown me away and I am delighted that Blogger becomes Author: with my ‘Love Letters to Life’ ready to be published in time for Valentines Day 2013.

The Blog comes with my compliments and you will find that by taking this a step further and investing in the book, that the content is expanded, it is added to and then wrapped in a gorgeous Peachey structure that brings it all together – elaborates on it and turns it into a satisfying whole and a perfect Peachey read.

It will be your very own volume of Peachey happiness, love and learning, both for you and as a gift to friends and family, and for any one in your life who would love their own example of emotional voyaging, of life affirming exploration and all round gorgeous Peacheyness.

I have a special pre-order offer for all readers of this Blog …

Before it is listed on Amazon and in all good book stores, pre-order your books NOW and they will be with you in time for Valentines Day… and not only THAT, but they will come to you FREE of postage costs and signed by the author (within the UK – asked for postage costs outside the British Isles)!!

This offer holds until 19 January, 2013, when postage costs (approximate £3.90 for the UK) will be added and the cover price may increase too … so pre-order YOUR Peachey copies now …

Click here to purchase your copies.

With gratitude and warm Peachey wishes …

        Sandra Peachey

Author: Peachey Days – Love Letters to Life

More Peachey Feedback on My Love Letters to Life …

As my original challenge – to write a love letter to life, every day in February 2012 – passed, I found myself wanting to add more letters … in fact it was more of a compulsion – the Letters decided they wanted to be created!  I continue to be blessed with amazing feedback; and the encouragement I have received means that the Peachey Letters Blog, will soon become a book … In the meantime, please continue to read the letters, with my best wishes and compliments.  And here I would like to share some of the most recent feedback that the Letters have received …

Lindsay Burton:

Sorry to hear about your mum. A heartfelt letter beautifully written.

Gill Potter:

Made me laugh – love your daftness and your love.

Mary Joyce:

This is truly beautiful. Thank you for sharing your thoughts Sandra.

Keith Higham:

Just read your “To Celebration” letter and frankly I am amazed!!  Where have you been hiding this talent??

Vaibhav – India:

Dear Sandra/Sandie, Most of us if not all get a defining moment in life. That powerful momentary permutation. My moment was when I read your beautiful letters today. What vivid pictures your words paint. It is never easy to put your feelings into words. Your deep feelings and gut reactions bubble up naturally seemingly beyond translation. Your words have become the sparkle in my eyes and the sun that shines through the window every morning beckoning me to wake, I love your writing. I always have, and I always will.

Greg C:

Wonderful memories that made my eyes leak, a lot!  Thank you for reminding me of my own Dad, and Mum, both long gone but never forgotten.

Caroline Ashby:

Absolutely love this post, Sandie. It may be entitled ‘Letter to Daftness’, but there is so much insight and wisdom in it.

David W:

Rarely have I read such exquisite passion, such positivity, such zest for life has I have in your love letters. You express yourself so well, as you find just the right words for thoughts, feelings and experiences that so many of us find impossible to capture, or even know exist. You have THE GIFT. The gift of self expression. And you have imagination too. A mind able to fly and to dream. To truly know, to see in your mind’s eye, how beautiful things could be… if only… Yet, even in this imperfect world… a world fall of faults, pain, failings, evil and just plain indifference, you still see and appreciate the beauty. The beauty that most of us miss as we hurry along the road, immersed in our thoughts about later… or before… the past, or the future… never the now!

You’re clearly a woman of many facets, each revealed like a sparkling ray of light as it passes through a crystal… Not just any crystal, but a diamond. A diamond’s beauty is revealed through the working of the stone. Life has done its work on you, shaping you through both the pleasure and the pain. The beauty was always there, as it is in all of us, but it doesn’t shine out from all of us. In choosing to shine, you give the rest of us permission to shine also. Permission to cast off that which does not serve us and to embrace true joy, through deciding to follow our hearts and our passion.

Lucie Bradbury

Wow! Beyond words, your writing is wonderful, your insights an inspiration, the gift of a Goddess & an honesty that is humbling … Your bravery is bold & simply brilliant. Thank you.

Nadine Honeybourne:

Awesome Sandra and my heart and love go out to you. Your letter helped me move on from something too around … last year … “it was as it was meant to be”… so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Harriet Stack:

Very moving, sending you love and thank you for sharing this.

Anne Mulliner:

Wow – so beautiful, thank you Sandie – it connected with me on so many levels.

Thank you – everyone, for your heartfelt and gorgeous comments … they mean more to me than you will ever know; and sometimes, when it seems like a self indulgent thing I am doing – writing these posts, I read your comments and I return again to my Peachey Letters…  Sandra Peachey – Blogger and Author

PS: And now these letters are published, I can greedily read the book too, follow this link to know more…

Letter to Daftness

Dear Daftness

That alliteration is a great start to a letter … It is easing me in gently, with a smile, as I start to contemplate you … Dear Daftness …

Close family and friends know I have a certain delightfully, or dangerously daft quality; and to the world at large I often try to cap it or limit how much I show of it … It’s there though, part of who I am and what I do …

The thing with me is, that I love to present a professional and polished gloss to the world … Yet, so often, I’m daft … And that’s not a criticism of myself – it’s a simple description … And growing older and wiser (as well as dafter …) I’ve learnt more and more that it’s OK to show these true colours, and embrace them, and let the world see them; and then the world can decide to shirk me for it, love me for it or indeed not give a damn about my daftness … so there it is, in all it’s daft technicolour glory …

So Daftness is … being forgetful, being late, being trivial, being accident prone, being indecisive, being wantonly childish, losing self control. Sometimes it is so much me that it feels like my own brand of alien significance – defining me, slowing me down, making me cry with frustration or laugh with the Peachey familiarity of it … Daftness …

And I wonder what the reader will think – those that know me in body and place … Is that the me they recognise ..? And for some it may be a shock that I believe this of myself, and others will smile in recognition … and for others again, it may just open more doors onto their own knowing of me … and for others still, who know me from these letters alone – mere anecdote …

Now, I have consciously drawn into my orbit those that I can SAFELY be daft with … Because sometimes, believe you me, I have been vilified for it and lost jobs and people in my life because of it … Yet it is ME … imprinted in my DNA, I simply can’t change it … Though if I try hard … I can manage it and have done a damn good job of presenting my ‘got together’ professional face to the world; but that can be hard work sometimes … and more often than not – my inner clown will trip me up or show me up, and the spotlight shakes the real me out into the open.

So, true to Peachey form, at times I am good with the daft, and at times I truly hate it.  And though I KNEW that being daft and proud is all good, I probably never really GOT that, until these last few weeks since my mother’s passing … She died 2 weeks ago and so at times my brain is the consistency of a marshmallow, and I can feel like a little lost orphan, and ‘doing’ or deciding what to do with a day is difficult; and ‘being’, and being in certain places is really hard work; and patience is thin and energy is low, and the daftness quotient goes through the rude roof.

At times too, I’m on top of the world and out there in it – being amazing … it is indeed weird to be me right now … My mother passing has somehow bought out some of the worse in me and all of the best me of me, and made me ‘more so’ – in just about EVERY way.

So Love is a complicated and many splintered thing, and this is, of course, a Love Letter to Daftness.  I’m definitely more daft right now… but you know what?  I’ve realised that it is all good; I’ve decided to give in to it and to embrace it. I know that being daft is perfect for me right now and I’m going with the daft flow.  I’m being vulnerable, I’m being selfish, I’m being real.  I give permission to the daft and I welcome it.  It’s like a soft blanket of sweet childishness. Being daft right now means I have a freedom when it comes to taking care of myself, or telling others what I want, and to do as much or as little of what I feel capable of doing and giving right now …

And in this state of being, work has not been a priority, but then the world turns in such a way that without even trying, I am suddenly given new opportunities and new clients … And even in these strange and newly motherless times – when I speak and when I coach, I forego ‘daft’ and create magic instead …

So being soft and being daft has allowed friends and strangers to care for me and support me even more than they have before.  And from surrendering in this way, I’ve gained so much.  I’ve grown so much.  And who knows, I may just stay openly daft, to everyone, for ever …  Or the hard shell, with the cracks in it, may return … Yet somehow I predict that there will be more raw, deft daftness; more freedom and more expansion of my soul … Yes – after the daftness comes the light and so it is that I have moved from one four lettered word – d a f t to another – l o v e.

Now both daftness and love define me – and so it is that I have written yet another Peachey Letter to Love.

Yours beguilingly, blondely and daftly

              S xx

PS: Daftness, love, creativity, caring… it’s all in the book version of Peachey Letters – follow this link to find out more…

Letter to Loss

22 July 2012

Dear Loss

How complicated you are – you heinous thing – that thing which I have felt so much of in my life.  And yet I call this a ‘love’ letter … So, Dear Loss, let me explain, expand and elaborate …

I woke up this morning with a sense of creeping dread.  My mother died 6 days ago and in another 4 days comes her funeral.  My mother’s funeral … As my senses came to, on the morning of this day, I was permeated with the weight of horror and fear.  And then the vile bile of anger took me over …

Yes, anger pushed its’ fist into my heart, because I invited people to join me at my mother’s service and there is, so far, silence … apparently no one is coming … Then that evil, chiding voice says to me “So … those people who share your happy existence don’t give a damn about your sad times – your life is clearly a sham …”

Now in my innermost and knowing self, I realise that this voice takes over and holds you in it’s terrible thrall, especially at times like this; and it takes you down a long tunnel, where you stumble, blindly in the darkness and you cannot see what you actually have – which is – in day light reality – so very much …

The fact is, if I really choose to count, there are two particular people who it is my dearest wish be there on that Farewell Funeral Day – those being my brother and my mother’s best friend.  And of course, there will be more: friends, family, my mother’s circle … Some to bid farewell and some come to support me. And suddenly it comes back to me, in clear consciousness, what I always knew – that ten people or one hundred – if for no other reason than that is how it is, they will be the perfect ones to be there …

My own sense of significance and drama had briefly demanded more attention … Yet my mother’s passing will be marked, as we – the living – need to demarcate such turning points in our lives – to focus our loss on, and provide the means to say farewell, so we can move onwards in our own living time.  And for me the most impelling cause for a funeral is to celebrate a life having been lived, a life which has been part of your life.  There are many ancient reasons why, even in this electronic and eclectic modern age, we practice such ceremonies around birth, marriage and death …

This limbo between time from death to funeral is extreme and emotional, it has shifted the axis of my world – so my demons come out to dance on my dreams and dine on my exposed flesh.  I name and recognise these satanic creatures, and then I choose instead, to dance with the angels.

You see there I was with the expectation of attention and response.  Yet I know that there are many reasons why people do not reply and do not come, and how I feel about this is my own business – it is purely my own response to what I have put out there (which is after all an invitation, not a demand) and is in no way provoked by any one else.  And then I know that so often I have a choice about how I can feel … so having wallowed in my fear and anger, I have now let it go.  It is part of my process of processing what has happened; and now, at this time of writing, I am in a quiet space of reflection and acceptance that it will all be as it should.  This newer, positive sense comes from the pure me, the one who chooses the path of light, not the tunnel.  And verily, the dark demon of negativity still grabs me and tries to drag me down that tunnel; but I know, always, there is light at the end of it.

And we all do what we can, with what we’ve got … I had thunderbolt moment about this when someone called me to offer her support and condolences … she is going through her own very tough times at the moment, and she recalled all the offers people give at these trying times … to be there if asked … to do anything for you – if asked; and the thing is, usually no one does ask …  Well now, she said, she had decided to do SOMETHING … as much as she could manage right then, which was to offer me ‘a cuddle and cuppa’.  And I was so touched and it was a wake up call for me … me, who so many times has said, ‘just let me know if you want anything’ and then leaves it at intention … because I don’t want to intrude, or I’m busy, or my own life takes over or it’s not a priority.

And all these things are valid in their season … but may be, just may be, we could just all pause and wonder what we can do ‘beyond the words’, beyond our own small worlds, at times like these; and if that is sending our love and good wishes, then good … Yet, just for now, please support me in expanding my own horizons by considering the possibility of doing a thing, of actually paying it forward, as well as sending out a possible promise …

And I have received many such treasures in this limbo time … so much love, so much support, hugs, dinners, biscuits, transport, company and conversations.  And people have created time and space to be with me … So there it all is, in reality – all in balance; and yet, still – so fleetingly, I felt neglected – when really, I am getting exactly the attention that I need … And I want to say thank you to everyone who has given to me in any and every way, in these few last days.  I receive what you gift, so very gratefully.

So the emotional complications of my personality unfurl some more: triggered and exaggerated by sudden loss.  I kick over the implications, then I cuddle them. I give breath to the evil and the enervating, then I can reconcile the consequences and realise that these leanings are my lessons.

It comes down to this … This is a love letter to loss.  And it is a love letter in the sense that I appreciate and celebrate how this whole experience has ‘opened me out’, and how such trying times can, if we choose, alter us in positive and unimaginable ways.  And having started with anger and tears, I realise now, with humility and clarity, just how much I actually have – even when this weird day started with me swimming through the lake of my loss. And this letter may be the ramblings of a grieving child or it will be what ever it will be to its reader and what ever that is, I am good with it …

Then this letter starts to wind down … and one of the many reasons it is addressed to ‘Loss’ is that my inner poet loves the alliteration of all the Ls in a ‘Love Letter to Loss’ …

And so it is now, that I go from loss to love.  I end this letter with a salutation to loss and all the unbidden treasures that it has given me.  I do not in all honesty welcome it, yet I do intend to learn from it.  And last of all, and most of all, I raise my glass – every time: to Love …

Yours trustingly,

     Sandra

PS: Thank you for sharing this letter with me.  My mother passed away on 16 July 2012.  She was diagnosed with a condition called Parkinson’s Disease and if you could donate something to the organisation that funds research and support for this disorder, I would be very grateful for yet more gifts bestowed …  You can give online here …