Bare faced me

I decided to take a photo of me today, with no make up and my hair pulled back. I have always worried about my appearance and in these times as we are forced into being unable to touch up our roots and being at home means there is little need to slap on make up, I would confidently bare all. Including all my freckles and pigmentation that I usually cover up. So here is me.

I had a lovely run this morning, although it is a lot colder than it has been. The day was a normal school scheduled day and at the end of it I had a lovely chat with fellow blipper Honeycombebeach. It really was lovely to connect with chat and I did say to her on the phone that I haven’t really been blipping consistently and I know when I am not, that I am not feeling so great. But blipping actually also helps me to feel good and gives me something positive to do everyday. So I gave her permission to give me a nudge when I am not blipping and she agreed. Thank you.
I have been editing my book today and this evening I am very excited about a meditation session I will be joining courtesy of the Oxford Mindfulness Centre. Mark Williams founded the centre in the 1980s and is actually running a free session this evening and I cannot wait to join in. It means juggling things a little in terms of dinner and timings but as it is a one off session, I am hoping it won’t matter too much.
Last night when I joined a meditation session on Sangha Live, I heard a poem which was lovely and I thought I would share it with you. 

When Death Comes – Mary Oliver


When death comes
 like the hungry bear in autumn;
 when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
 when death comes
 like the measle-pox
when death comes
 like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
 what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
 as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
 and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
 and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
 as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
 tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
 precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say all my life
 I was a bride married to amazement.
 I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
 if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
 or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
--Mary Oliver