My personal winter

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 2 Comments
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I seem to be in a long period of personal winter, and while spring is showing signs of emerging outside my window, the same can’t be said for my internal landscape. By ‘winter’ I don’t mean I’m depressed, although I’m certainly grieving, mainly for my dog Zoey who died on 20th February, but also for parts of myself that have been or are in the process of being stripped away. On a physical level, I’m exhausted and often emotional; sleep is better but can be tricky due to having a very demanding cat who is probably grieving in her own way since the loss of Zoey. It’s a strange and uncertain time for both of us.

No, by ‘winter’ I mean a period of intense silence, of apparent nothingless, of death. 2025 demanded a lot of me and this year looks set to do the same. Two good long term friends dropped off the radar for very different reasons and I still feel the loss. Another very close relationship brought challenges and a lot of sadness to navigate, especially as so much of my sense of self was invested in it. My health worsened a lot from last summer and while I have improved I’m certainly not back to how I was. And now 2026 has brought perhaps the greatest challenge yet: the loss of my long term faithful companion Zoey.

I’m aware this is a transition and it feels like a death because in many ways it is. Not a literal death of the physical body, but the death of the identities I was attached to without even realising it. I’m being called to find out who I am without them and this means peeling away those sticky identities and opening to a new way of being. It’s letting go and surrendering into the flow of life rather than looking back at the past. Grieving is natural and I will never forget Zoey, just as I will never forget my dear departed parents or even the friends I’ve lost for various reasons, and I don’t have to. I know that grief becomes the rite of passage that cannot be bypassed because it invites us to remember who we really are when all’s been and gone. It cuts to the quick and leaves us raw, vulnerable, and naked.

Not surprisingly, this process has involved a lot of resisting and suffering. Some people call this a dark night of the soul for good reason. I haven’t always wanted to let go or let myself grieve for the parts of me or the persons that I have lost. I have clung to old patterns and ways of being even when they’re hurting me. That’s being human in a nutshell. No wonder it often takes a dramatic loss or tragic event to pull the blinkers from our eyes and show us there’s another way. And even then we often won’t go there. We refuse to listen or think we know better. That’s okay! Being gentle with ourselves is the key because we are all on the same path and here to learn.

In this period of my life I’m surrendering to the grief, but it is a process. It takes time. Paradoxically, it takes no time at all. Everything I am is right here. And yet, time is needed to strip away what I’m not and grieve for that. There’s a kind of push-pull and I have little motivation for anything. This is what I mean by ‘winter’ and what I know is being prepared within and for me, even though I can’t see or feel it. It has taken me a lot to write this blog post and yet it felt like something I needed to do because it’s from a deeper motivation that is trying to come forth. Plus I’m still human and connection is very important during these times.

I trust that life will take me where I need to be. I am part of the flow. Nothing real ever dies.

A dark night of grief

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 14 Comments
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It’s been a long time since I updated my blog and I apologise to anyone who may have wondered where I was. I’ve been through another extended version of the ‘dark night of the soul’ and I needed to withdraw to focus on exploring deeply who ‘I am’ when all’s said and done. A long period of worsening health ensued, followed by the deterioration of my dog’s health and subsequent death ten days ago. It has been a very painful time and although I’ve had moments of wanting to write again, I felt I had very little to give. I still feel that way but I’ve realised that perhaps I need to write for myself, not from a place of needing responses (although I will obviously appreciate any which come) but to explore where I’m at in the hope of gaining some clarity and feeling less alone. If my journey helps anyone else that’s wonderful and I’m glad, but I have no expectations. I feel stripped bare of any ideas of what my life means or indeed what any of it means. I know that I’m beyond thoughts and emotions, I’ve experienced that deep inner knowing in my heart, but somehow integrating it into my daily life and living from a place of liberation and freedom feels impossible. There’s too much pain, too much grief…

My dog meant so much. If anyone has ever deeply loved and bonded with a dog, they will know how awful the loss is. It’s the worst pain and cuts to the core. I didn’t realise until I lost her how much I had depended on her. Despite all my spiritual understanding about non attachment and impermanence, I made my life about her. She was like the child who never grew up and I became the parent whose sole role was to give her everything she needed. Zoey was 16, I knew she wouldn’t last forever and indeed I had began to grieve a year ago when it was clear she was no longer as healthy as she was, but my heart couldn’t accept that one day she really would be gone and I’d have to turn inward and find out who I am without her..

It feels an impossible journey but at the same time I have no choice but to walk it. Someone once said that grief is grace; it’s so often what initiates the journey back to the self so to grieve is an act of grace. Without deep loss and the grief that ensues there is no real need to find our way back to ourselves. Loving someone, whether a human, dog or another being, is the energy projected out into the world and it’s a truly beautiful thing. But take the object away and it collapses back on itself. It IS the self. Ram Dass once said something along the lines of a loved being is the key that unlocks the love that exists within you. The love that I feel for Zoey has not disappeared or died; it is part of me because that capacity for love is the essence of who I am. It’s the fabric of life itself.

But I am grieving and it’s painful because I loved Zoey; I even named her such because the name means ‘life.’ She was my constant faithful companion. It is painful to think about life without her when she represented the vast majority of what mattered. I hope that the essence of her still continues in some way and that she gained as much if not more from our love than I did.

RIP Zoey 14/02/10 – 20/02/26

Tapestry of love and grief (autism)

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 6 Comments

Yesterday I met my son at a Costa’s local to me – two carers from his placement drove him down. Apparently he spent the entire journey saying ‘Mummy’ which was probably not only due to excitement but trying to process the uniqueness of the event, as the only other time he had been told he was going in a car to visit me was when they picked me up from the station! This time it was a longish journey of around an hour, so plenty of time for him to process and look forward to seeing me, which he clearly had. I spotted one of the carers while paying for my coffee, as he had just found somewhere to park and was waving to let me know they had arrived. I took my coffee and sat by the window, then on seeing them bring my son over the road to the shop door, I got up and greeted him.

He was grinning widely and looked incredibly happy and chilled out. This was a massive relief. The prospect of meeting in a public place had made me slightly anxious due to plenty of memories of taking him out when he was a young boy and having to try and stop him suddenly grabbing things (or people) as he had no concept of ownership or any sense of right and wrong due to his autism and severe learning disabilities. He had absolutely no impulse control. At nearly 24, he is a lot calmer, although I wouldn’t say he has any more awareness of what he should or shouldn’t do, rather that he has learnt through the consistent support and discipline of trained carers. I was and still am limited in terms of my physical build (short and petite) and ongoing health issues. My son needs two strong men to support him in public places and luckily this is what he now has.

So he arrived and said ‘Mummy’ once again, clearly very pleased to see me. He sat at a table with me and was perfectly happy listening to me talking and showing him videos on my phone (mainly of trains, which we both like!). I showed him an ‘upside down’ train from Japan, which interested him a lot actually. I don’t normally grab his attention for long, but the concept seemed to throw him. He had a Thomas the Tank engine toy with him, and had bought with me two others – one of the bus character ‘Bulgy’ and the other of the train ‘Arthur.’ He had a lot of the character trains from childhood and gradually I’ve been giving them to him to take back. The only toy I won’t be giving him isn’t a train at all – it’s a ragged wreck of what was once a toy rabbit called Flopsy – I keep it under my bed as a momento, as he took it everywhere from babyhood until about 12 or 13. He had such a deep emotional attachment to it that it was proof, if it were needed, that he feels deep love, even though he shows it in his own unique ways.

The only slight incident was when he suddenly got up, went to the fridge next to the counter, pulled out a bottle of fizzy Tango and took it back to the table. I panicked inside, got up and asked him to give it to me, telling him I needed to pay for it first. He started to make moaning sounds and my heart sank, for this could easily trigger a meltdown. I was very aware of a small child of about 4 sitting with his father a short distance away and I was scared that my son would suddenly kick off. However, he did give it to me, but one of the carers who had been sitting a short distance away overheard and told me it was fine, to give my son the drink and he would pay at the counter. I was relieved that he took control and that I didn’t have to anymore.

There’s always a subtle ongoing grief when I see my son and I felt it perhaps more strongly yesterday due to being out in public. I love him and I’m proud of him, but it’s the grief of wishing things were different; that life is like this for us both. I stay very present with him so I know that I have healed much of the trauma that shaped my life as a parent, so that is a real blessing, as I can enjoy the moments for what they are now and connect with him in a way that he can feel and respond to. But there is an ongoing thread of grief that weaves through my life, and perhaps I wouldn’t be without it now, because the relationship with my son is a tapestry of rich emotions and beautiful moments despite the pain and the longing and the complexity of it all.

He left with his carers, clutching his bottle of Tango and his trains, and I waved goodbye as they went to the car. I saw him for just under an hour, but less is more with my son so that he doesn’t become overstimulated. Once again, I am so thankful that he is taken care of so well, so that I can enjoy these precious times with him.

A poignant visit to see family

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 1 Comment

Recently I visited my aunt and uncle by train. My aunt is my mum’s older sister so the connection is important to us in the wake of my mum’s death, even though, sad to say, there was very little contact while my mum was alive. This is because my mum always felt overshadowed by her older sister; she believed her mum favoured my aunt and that her mum wanted her to be a boy. It stayed with my mum throughout her life, which may explain why she struggled with her mental health and had very turbulent relationships, whilst my aunt settled down young with the man she would spend her entire life with. Or maybe it was just the luck of the draw. Either way, it affected how my mum felt towards my aunt so there was never much interest in that side of the family.

It is therefore so interesting to me now, with my aunt in her late 80s and my uncle early 90s, to hear about the cousins I’d only vaguely known by name growing up, and their children, and some cases even THEIR children! The family line just goes on. Sometimes I feel sad at how much I missed out on, as I was a very lonely child who didn’t fit in with my much older siblings or their children. Maybe I’d have had more in common with my cousins. Then again, from what I can remember, probably not. Most have little to do with my aunt and uncle now, with the exception of my eldest cousin, who helps them out and wants to come over while I’m there soon (she is the cousin who took in my mum’s tortoise Tilly), and another cousin who sadly died a few years ago. I think we are all very different. But while I listen to my aunt recounting the years, I feel like I’m looking through the other end of a telescope into the past, into what might have been.

I’m very aware that my mum might not approve of my visits to my aunt and uncle. I’m doing this for myself, because there is a love there that matters to us all, but also as a way to retain the connection to her and to her history. It makes me sad to know that it would be difficult for her. I hope that she may understand and realise how important these visits are now. She is at the forefront of all of them.

The train journey itself was a poignant reminder of the virtually infinite number of trips I made to my mum’s house, usually with my dog in tow. The journey took three trains, with two changes in total. The journey to see my aunt and uncle is the same apart from the final train, which is on a different route. On this occasion I found myself sitting inside the final train waiting to leave whilst looking across the to the train on the opposite platform – the one that would have taken me to see my mum. I have to admit, that hit hard, very hard.

Life is change. Life is loss. Life is moving forward.

Life is knowing the love that we are and sharing that  with the people we can.

Summer days

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 8 Comments
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OK so it isn’t quite summer, but the weather doesn’t seem to agree. I met a friend for lunch near the seafront last week and enjoyed a quick glimpse of the local coastline and pier. There’s a ferris wheel up and running already, not that I will be going on it…I can’t even tolerate sitting in a normal car without medication! There’s a ghost train down the other end though, so maybe I will try that this year! And of course the dodgems, although they’re no good for my back.

I’ve also taken some photos of birds to try and identify them through the Merlin app. I do know what they are, or at least I think I do. I suspect one is a Great Tit, but I really want to get it clarified. If anyone can make it out please let me know! The app isn’t always able to make out the birds from my distant pictures.

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My health is not currently the best, but the weather is keeping me relaxed and happy and reading in the sun. I will write a proper post soon.

Nice calm visit

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 13 Comments

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Today I went to see my son to give him his ‘egg’ – actually it was a piece of cake with chocolate icing and three mini eggs on top- and he thoroughly enjoyed both the food and my presence. He was in a fabulous mood. He had been helping staff clean his annexe on my arrival, so he was wearing plastic gloves and clutching the vacuum cleaner, which he immediately switched off when he saw me. From then on he sat on the sofa watching his favourite -Thomas- while I chatted about my news and asked about his. Even though he is mostly non verbal, given the right mood he will engage and acknowledge activities that he has done, particularly trampolining and swimming, which are his favourites. He likes to look at photos of himself doing these activities, probably to remind himself of the positive emotions at the time.

It is lovely when he’s so calm and happy to be present. There was no hand biting or shouting today. He said “Mummy” when I arrived and looked so pleased to see me. Despite everything we’ve been through, how awful life was for us both, we retain a connection as mother and son, and I’m massively grateful for it.

Thinking about my mum’s tortoise

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 5 Comments

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Two months after my dad died my mum suddenly bought herself a tortoise. She didn’t mention it so I was astounded when, on the first visit after the funeral, she came downstairs cupping a tiny baby tortoise inside the palm of one hand.

I thought even then that there was probably something in her subconscious mind about seeking longetivity and avoiding the idea of her own mortality.

Tilly the tortoise grew very fast and was thoroughly indulged by my doting mum. Tilly had the run of the house and garden and the best vegetables and fruit my mum could buy. A particular favourite was mango, which may have explained her rapidly expanding size. Females are usually bigger than males, according to the vet, but Tilly was especially large.

That first winter she hibernated at home with me as I had more space at the time. I kept her in a special fridge, inside a tupperware box with holes. She stayed there for a few months until March when she woke to brighter mornings and daisies and daffodils. She enjoyed a rummage or two in pools of warm sunlight in my front garden before my mum collected her and took her home.

She had a happy life. And boy was she fast! She was very nearly called Speedy for that reason. The stories about tortoises being slow were clearly written by people who had never owned one.

She spent 8 years with my mum.

A few months before my mum died in 2023 she arranged for Tilly to live with a cousin who had several tortoises of her own. Right from the day she moved in Tilly settled and has been the focus of doting attention from the others, I think all male, possibly apart from one.

I haven’t seen her since, but the photo is very recent. Tilly is the queen bee, enjoying a bath with her male friends.

Tilly brought a lot to the last 8 years of my mum’s life and helped her cope in the wake of losing my dad. She was a grounding symbol of solidity and strength. She loved her very much. We all did. She loved having the underneath of her chin scratched. And she quickly learned my mum’s voice and her own name.

I miss those days. But it is wonderful to know that Tilly is happy and thriving. My mum would be delighted to see it.

Dropping my anchor

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 1 Comment

I listened to a fascinating YouTube video the other day called ‘You are your own anchor’ by Michael Singer. I don’t often write about what I’ve watched but this one was so helpful to me that I took notes. It provided a powerful visual analogy that I will draw on going forwards. I have added some notes of my own and a critique at the end.

The spiritual path is always, ultimately, about letting go of the ‘self’. This is the conditioned self or ego. Imagine you are in a hot air balloon, tethered to the ground. The tether, or anchor, represents our worldly attachments and desires. For as long as I am attached to the world, the anchor remains in place and the balloon cannot go up. This includes when I am fighting against, or resisting, something, for I am still invested in ‘me’; in the personal self.

Each of us is involved in the ‘dance of the chi.’ Each of us is energy, Divine energy. We have a beautiful spiritual purpose in this world; to recognise our soul and reconnect with Spirit. If nothing is holding me down I will rise like the balloon, back to Source/God and ultimate freedom and peace. Instead, the same Divine energy is being used to sustain the conditioned self, which weighs me down and feels like a burden.

The key is letting go. The more I let go of my attachments and resistance, the less there is to hold me down in the balloon. This doesn’t mean pretending difficult events are fine or that I don’t feel bad. On the contrary, it is important to fully accept what is happening in the moment, then let it go. Don’t tie a personal self to it. Rather than fight or force any aspect of reality, simply watch it happening. This includes my own thoughts, for they create my reality. All of it is clouds passing by. It’s just the weather. Watch and notice. Keep letting go of thoughts until they pass away.

Don’t try to hold onto the balloon. It isn’t tied in any way; it’s simply the self holding and preventing it from going up. Don’t even focus too much on teachings or other practices because if I’m still invested in the world they’re the equivalent of re-arranging the furniture inside the balloon and wondering why it still won’t go up. The key is to let go. Keep watching the dance until the dance of the chi dissolves into something far more vast and beautiful.

This is what I understood from the video. What I will add is that everything has its time and place. Everything. A commonly heard term is ‘spiritually bypassing’ and it’s important to be careful about this and not disregard one’s own inner truth in favour of an assumed higher state of being. If we’re not ready or able to let go, that’s absolutely fine. We develop a conditioned self as a way to survive and relate to others. Oftentimes, we need it to cope with trauma. Sometimes, we need to share our story and be seen and heard as a person. We develop a conditioned self for many reasons and it serves many functions, some probably unknown to us, but all part of the bigger picture and ultimate Purpose. I fully agree with Carl Jung who said that we need to develop a healthy ego before we can transcend it, otherwise all sorts of psychiatric, spiritual and other issues can and have sadly arisen in many people who have dropped their anchor too soon, usually forced through some spiritual practice.

Each teaching is only a facet of the truth; an offering. So it’s a matter of taking what resonates with where you’re at right now and disregarding the rest. As always listen to your intuition or inner guidance: it knows best!

Spring has come (in more ways than one).

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 7 Comments
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I am certainly feeling the joy of spring right now, as well as summer (the weather has turned really mild, so I wonder if a very early summer is on the horizon, if temporary) because I have some good news: my dog has recovered!

I admit I knew very little about arthritis other than the fact she’s had it for about two years prior to this recent flare up. Other than giving her a daily joint supplement and taking her out daily, it wasn’t something I worried too much about, simply because it never really bothered her all that much…until the weekend before last.

She was in so much pain I honestly thought this was it. It broke my heart. I read that arthritis was progressive so I assumed it was – well – progressing.

But I also read that a grain free diet often benefitted arthritic dogs (and perhaps people?). Straight away it occurred to me that I had recently changed her dry food. A quick glance at the packaging told me that it contained wheat.

That had to go. I changed her dry and wet foods to grain free only. I also added hemp and salmon oils to her food daily.

Almost straight away I noticed a difference. Her pain level was decreasing. Each day she seemed to mobilise better. Her front left paw was a persistent problem, but that has now ceased to bother her too.

Compared to how she was, it’s like a miracle. Earlier today she was walking around the little stone area outside my front door to sniff the scents. She would avoid any uneven ground if her joints hurt.

It is such a blessing. She is 15 so I have no idea how long she will remain stable, but I will take any time with her that I can get.

Dark days (in my heart)

/ sarahlissyjenkins / 15 Comments
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Spring has arrived but my life feels very dark indeed.

My beautiful 15 year old dog has taken a sudden turn for the worst and is in lots of arthritic pain. She is already on an anti inflammatory medication plus joint supplements and they’ve kept her functioning brilliantly for two years. There is an injection which I want to try but I don’t know if it will help her now. The vet is calling me tomorrow.

Somehow I always knew losing her would be worse than anything else. If you’ve truly loved a dog, I suspect you’ll understand why. She has been with me through so much.

I know she’ll be going back to Spirit but in this depth of grief and loss it’s little comfort.

My heart is broken and posts may be sporadic for a bit, if you wonder.