Karmic Circle of Love

Thank you, thank you to all of you who so kindly donated your hard earned cash to The Haven and joined my karmic circle of love. As of this morning, the total stands at just over £1000.

That's awesome.

I was reminded again that ex drinkers are some of the best, kindest and most extraordinary human beings.

(See my post: Why ex-drinkers rock and Why ex-drinkers rock, part 2)

The Haven are a small charity, so that sort of cash makes a real difference. £1000 will fund two years supply of acupuncture needles, or twenty hours of counselling sessions for women who have just been diagnosed with breast cancer.

If you haven't donated yet, or if you're coming across this page months into the future, then do not worry: I am going to leave the page open, so anyone who feels the need to give back, or pay it forward, or whatever, can do so at any time.

(Just Giving pass your donations directly onto The Haven, they don't just sit in a holding account).

They, and I, and The Universe will be phenomenally grateful. Here's the link again: www.justgiving.com/sober-mummy

So, yesterday evening, I was feeling all hyped and fuzzy from seeing the total on my JustGiving page going up and up, and I checked my e-mail.

There was an e-mail from someone called Jeremy. He told me that he's been battling addiction since he was thirteen, (not sure how old he is now!), and had written a song which he thought I might like to hear, and possibly share.

To be honest, I was going to ignore it, but will all the karmic love circle stuff going on that felt a bit mean, so I clicked on his link - more with a sense of duty than anticipation. More fool me, because it's just lovely.

The song is just Jeremy and his guitar.

I was immediately transported back to my backpacking days. Remember when you'd end up in some far flung corner of the world, with a bunch of fellow travellers you'd never met before, but with whom you shared a sense of adventure and a yearning for a hot bath and a washing machine?

You'd all sit around a camp fire, exchanging tales of bus journeys from hell, and spiritual awakenings. Then someone would pull out a battered guitar, start to strum, and you'd think why oh why did I waste all those years learning the bloody oboe?

But Jeremy's isn't the voice of the young, naïve gap year student - it's the voice of someone who's been over that Obstacle course a number of times, and lived to tell the tale (see my post: The Obstacle Course).

Have a listen here to his song called Help Someone, and see what you think.

Happy sober Sunday to you all!

SM x