An antidote to the mundane

When I left the corporate world I was naïve enough to think that I was also leaving behind the mundane. While I absolutely loved my last role it did involve a five hour round-trip commute across London when I went into the office. When I eventually got into the office there was a lot of sitting in meetings. And the office was in a business park in the middle of nowhere so all the glitz and glam of my previous central London jobs was completely absent. No people-watching, luscious parks, exquisite window displays and general city life to distract and entertain me.

I swapped my mind numbing commute and back-to-back meetings in windowless rooms for motherhood and working for myself. While children are wonderous, humbling and inspiring beings — the day to day of motherhood can be very repetitive. That never-ending pile of laundry, food prep for forever hungry tiny mouths, and tidying up again and again and again. Even working for myself, doing something I absolutely love, involves some pretty mundane days filled with admin.

Now I realise that of course, whatever you do, however actively you’ve chosen to do it and regardless of how much you love it, you are inevitably going to have to do some things that are humdrum and routine. The monotonous mundane. It’s part of life.

I do think it is possible to find meaning and even experience the divine in the mundane. This can be a beautiful spiritual practice of the highest order. However, I personally struggle with it and certainly can’t do it every time I’m monitoring teeth brushing or filling out my tax returns. More and more I’m finding that in order to maintain perspective and feel connected and really alive I need to experience a regular amount of the sublime.

For me, the sublime is about experiencing something awesome, wonderous, enchanting, expansive. It is a full-body experience. Two of the main ways I access it is through conscious dance and being in nature. Both enable me to get out of my monkey mind (which can be a very repetitive place to be) and into my body. I am able to let go, feel connected to something bigger than me, and access peace and bliss.

When I start to feel worn down by the humdrum or feel like I’m losing perspective or connection I go out into the woods and disappear on a journey into nature or I put the music on and take a journey into myself. Both are like plugging into source for me. I come back with more energy, greater clarity and greater perspective and often some much needed guidance.

What feels sublime is totally individual. The important thing is to know what is it that you can access regularly that makes you feel alive, elevated and connected.

So what is sublime for you? When did you last experience it? Are there ways you can incorporate more sublime experiences into your day or week when life starts to get a bit too mundane? Or are you content with the mundane?

As well as knowing where to receive your regular dose of the sublime it is also useful to be open to experiencing the sublime because sometimes you’ll find the most sublime moments in the most unexpected of places.

‘I believe the world is incomprehensibly beautiful — an endless prospect of magic and wonder.’ Ansel Adams

Finding wonder in unexpected places

It’s been raining non-stop for what feels like weeks and weeks in this country. Wherever we go it is grey, wet and ‘miserable’. I’ve hurruffed and hurrumphed about my day because of it. The school run is tedious with traffic. The car park is dappled with muddy puddles, I’m forever standing in the rain getting children in and out of car seats and peeling off wet coats. I never seem to have an umbrella when I need one. And when I do I find it hard to navigate holding the smallies hands and keeping us all dry and I invariably leave it somewhere.

And so it was with great resistance that I agreed to go for a morning walk in the drizzle with my 3 year old after we dropped his sister off at school. He adores being outside. Children are great teachers and he was providing me with a great learning experience. He arrived at the park with no ideas or judgements about whether rain was good or bad… he just relished the experience of sloshing through the wet grass in his wellies and looking at all the trees in their autumnal glory full of leaves, berries and catkins of all shapes, sizes and colours. The white of the silver birch bark warranted a good feel. And he noted that his hands were left with a chalky residue after he did so. The bright green lichen on the cherry tree was springy. The last of the juicy blackberries were calling to be picked which he did with relish. There were a huge variety of trees to enjoy. There were dogs to navigate, sounds in the distance to mimic. Even the dark hue of the sky — which was unendingly grey was something to witness with reverence. And as he slowly went about his explorations it was impossible not to be taken into his world of wonder and start to appreciate what only five minutes ago felt loathsome.

I started to feel into my body. Haaaaaaaah! I’m relaxing! I’m actually feeling good being outside. I’m slowing down. What was it that I needed to rush to again? Was it really that important and time sensitive that we couldn’t go for a short walk? Soon it will be winter and all these beautiful colours will be leaving us for another year. Isn’t the dew on the grass so sparkly? And look those wild pink roses are still blossoming… their velvet petals slowly surrendering to the earth. The busyness, the rush, the need to ‘get on’ was leaving me and in its place my breath was slowing, my heart was opening, and I was feeling a resonance with my little man and all the splendour of everything around us. I felt my soul recharging and my cup being filled.

And then wow, before us a huge troop of large white mushrooms. He exclaimed: ‘Mummy LOOK! Look what the rain has brought! A fairy garden!’ So many mushrooms. So, we both stood in the rain to admire them. And the rain stopped feeling miserable and started to feel lush and liminal. This was indeed a good way to start the day.

If drizzle is delightful and mushrooms are magical what else do I dismiss that is wonder-full? We slowly made our way back to the car. I let people cut in front of me in the traffic and we sang all the way home.

When was the last time that you felt enchanted by nature?

Has something totally unexpected filled you with wonder?

Can you find a way to experience the benefits of nature for just 5 or 10 minutes today — even if you are in the city?

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” Roald Dahl