Some Thoughts on the Twenty Second

There is a fork in the road; one way is the path of love and the other is the path of fear.

Only good things happen on the twenty second of the month according to my mother. Understandably, as both of her children and her mother were born on that date. Twenty two is my random pet number for holding my breath or taking gulps of water or counting steps. I like its rather pleasing symmetry. But the weather in West Berkshire on the twenty second of January lists heavily towards miserable and the wet green branches and muddy paths, the flat grey skies and mossy walls are better experienced in person than viewed from the window in front of my desk. In it, it's fine. Outside of it, it's separate and doesn't beckon.

I have to gather reasons to be happy in January. I pick up things everywhere in the hope that they'll be useful. I speak into my phone on to my notes app when I'm driving, and write gratitude lists before I go to sleep. I also shove fistfuls of Vitamin D into my mouth. I like this though: 

"Every moment is a fresh beginning." - T.S. Eliot

Pam Gregory, who is an uber astrologer, in that her background is astrology but she is an all round wise woman and energy healer, one of the women I believe are holding up the world so it doesn't shift off its axes, believes that everything is energy (and science backs this up) and that your inner state shapes your outer reality. She chooses every day that it will be a day of happiness, or joy, or peace. Similarly, the lead monk in the Buddhist Monks Peace Walk, Bhikku Pannakara shares his simple practise by beginning each day with the affirmation "Today is going to be my peaceful day." He says you write it down, then you read it inside and then you read it out loud. By setting this intention, we plant a seed of peace in our hearts, and we continue to choose it no matter what life throws at us. (The late neuroscientist and founder of the Stanford Center for Compassion and Altruism Jim Doty walks Mel Robbins through a similar manifestation technique on her podcast.)

This period leading into 2026 - now (and I say this with some urgency) - is all about choosing the life we want and stepping into our power to create that very life. It's no longer about the victim mentality of life happening to you, but rather the choosing exactly what you want ie, life happening for you. There is a lovely thing that happens when you realize that each one of us is a tiny little part of the whole, a bursting, blooming fractal extension of spirit or source or the great creative energy of the universe, or God. So we take responsibility every day and choose to live from a place of higher consciousness. Or at least, I suppose, we choose to be kind and not allow the coarsening of the world to do the same to us.

There is a lot of stuff out there, an endless pit of woo-woo philosophy and advice that would take you a few thousand lifetimes to get through. I have a read a lot of it and my criteria, although a little hazy, is pretty well marked (or boundaried). I trust people who have done the work and I trust those who have a clear academic background in science the most. But the intersection of science and spirituality is boundlessly fascinating to me. Yesterday for example I looked up "thirteen dimensions and string theory." It's butting up against each other all the time, and people are popping over to the other side in order to get a better view. I think (and I will admit to my own limited brain power here) that we are at the point where some questions just cannot be answered by science and spirituality (or, the notion of allowing that there are things that cannot be proved materially and that we have lost somehow our very keen gut and heart connection to the rest of the natural world) might provide some answers.

Case in point, Dr David Clements, a physicist who has advanced degrees from Oxford and Cambridge, and is now someone who communicates with ("channels") Pleiadians and Arcturians. Yes, I know. You probably saw the word "Pleiadian" and decided to stop reading. I was the same. But he is such a sweet and believable man, so grounded in science, and so self-deprecating, and makes so much sense, that it's hard to ignore. His conversation with Pamela Gregory is available on her YouTube channel from January 16 is utterly riveting.

The other astonishing thing is Season Two of The Telepathy Tapes. I think the shame around believing in this stuff has dissipated as I am noting many sceptical friends who are fully embracing this mind blowing podcast. People are allowing themselves to wake up so that they can witness the world evolving. Of particular note, the episode on creativity featuring Liz Gilbert and Ann Patchett, and the one ones on plant and animal communication. After I listened I couldn't get away from the feeling that I'm so lucky to live in a world where these things exist.

I was married for a long time to one of life's great enthusiasts. If he took up a new hobby, he fully committed to it and dedicated his days to it. Even if it was something I wasn't remotely interested in (going for hundred mile bike rides in lycra and cleats, for example) I was fully on board for his enthusiasm for life. It made Christmas presents a doddle. It's exciting to live with someone who is passionate about stuff. And often stuff I didn't understand. I learned to nod and smile at the necessary moments, because sometimes having something explained was even more complicated. My thirst for knowledge in the area of non-duality is something not really shared by anyone in my family, although I am grateful to them for being tolerant and embracing my eccentricity. It's not new. I had an imaginary friend when I was three or four, could feel ghosts in houses when I was ten or eleven, and had the full on psychedelic experience (woah, hay is just sparkling energy) by the time I was at Oxford, with my dear friend A, who has disappeared quietly no doubt into his beloved inner sanctum. Mushrooms weren't for partying; they were sacred. Always taken in the fields (Christchurch meadow), the woods, or, best of all on the wild moors of Ireland, amongst glittering verdure, sunlit heather, surrounded by curious, loving sheep. We knew it was about finding God although it was never said, and we knew that everything was connected. And I never forgot. I was a little disappointed that my philosophy degree didn't include more Huxley or Kesey or any of those cool guys, but there you go. I remember parsing the lyrics to "Over the Wall' by Echo and the Bunnymen and explaining to my aunt that it was about transcendence. Bless her for being so kind, and listening, wrapt.

My sobriety, I sometimes think, makes me dull. Occasionally I get the giggles and I relish those moments, but mostly it's me, drinking water, sitting at a table with my oldest friends while they drink delicious red wine and tell funny stories and I somehow seem to miss the point. It's awful feeling boring when you're used to being someone who sparkles. But it's also hard to have conversations about things you find utterly fascinating with people who think you are just slightly mad, not least because you don't drink. I think the assumption is that if you don't drink you judge those that do. It's the not the case. It's more about trying to match the energy, or get on the same wavelength. 

This new hobby, which isn't new and isn't really a hobby, could happily fill every waking hour and certainly does dominate car rides and late night reading. I am so sure of the goodness of it all. That it comes from a place of love, and that this is the way to exist in the world, with love, and through love. Slowly I'm finding my people, a network of women mostly who work with energy, or plants, or have a healing practise. I've stopped being self conscious and start inserting my research into conversations. There's a poetry group here, a sound healing forum there, people who recommend books, instagram friends I've never met who I know I'd love in real life. But rather like being a member of a secret society, it's not exactly something people want to speak about all the time. People like gossip, I've noticed. And it's something for which I can't really muster up any interest. Just this morning while waiting for the Oscar noms (in my day job) I realized that every single ad for every single tv show was so unbelievably awful that I couldn't believe that people watch such dross when there are so many other things in the universe of such mindblowing significance just waiting to be discovered. The world is a magical place, and yet we are pulled down into this swill with the American president in the middle of it. None of it means anything. It's Orwellian. All we need to do is start paying attention to what's really going on. All of the other stuff is just designed to keep us cowering. There is another path, and it's a path that involves love, kindness, nature, animals. And that's the path the Monks are treading. They're leading the way, all we have to do is follow.

If you're interested in a reading list or a podcast list, I'd be happy to send one your way. Sending lots of love to you and yours on this rainy, grey January day. We live in the most amazing, miraculous world.