February Blueskies

Report from Greco. It’s gentle and sunny in my first winter in Corfu. I’m quiet and reflective, the house to myself at last. I have enough here to not need to join everything, I thought I might. I may make a women’s circle one week but for now, ecstatic dance and family constellations are drawing me. And the occasional walk. Last week I discovered Porto Timoni which is jaw-dropping in January and rammed in July.

The blue skies, warm temperatures and sunshine make me happy, simply happy.  As it's warmer outside than in, I sit and work at the big table in the garden. With its near views of the avocado tree and spiky palm, and the greenery and noise of the neighbouring houses and returning birds, it is peaceful. The upstairs bedrooms and Namaste studio are empty for a while. Knowing that guests and friends will come soon enough, that I’m here for at least a decade, instils a calm to the original feeling of “I Must Do Something”, make a website, sort out groups, attract deposits to buy a sofa and fridge.

Yet there’s a natural rhythm that must have overtaken me, a quiet voice letting me know that house paint & shopping can wait till March and a working party will happen in April. It’s quite something to know that this house was built in 1776 so even if I do nothing this year, it’ll be alright. Probably. Though the alarming dripping from the heater under the sink caused a flurry of concern and water for the un-rained on garden each morning. Another thing for the fixing list. I’m not a naturally chilled person, so is this what letting go feels like? Who knows? I’m the wrong person to ask. 

I’m focusing on writing for February.  And the book that remains unpublished is saying ‘it’s time’. Time to withdraw for a while, to say sweetly “ask me again in March” and to hear the same from others. Thank you for your No. There’s a steady group in the 29 days of writing, our words and word counts, poems and practice, building connection, columns and momentum.  It’s sweet when an idea comes together when creativity pops up above the ‘no one’s interested in what you think’ parapet.  It's day 8 and I’ve written 8631 words according to the spreadsheet that I'd be quite willing to Domme me, yet life and to-do lists and things like water heaters are interfering with the afternoon pitching plan. Bah. Maybe that's March then.  

All roads lead to writing. A friend gave me some wild archetype cards for my 60th birthday and we sit together on Zoom sometimes and do reads with each other. I pulled The Vow last week and felt a shudder of a shift. The Vow is about a pact made. What did I bargain for the heart of Mandala? Creativity and following a divine intelligence. The focus on ‘sex ‘in the last decade is quieted, yet still remains humming along, a low beat in the background that pops up in a warm hug, Sexological Bodywork training, a sensual bliss descending in ecstatic dance, or the reveries of turning a bend and the light in the olive trees. 

A gasp of noticing beauty. This month has been a quiet delight of blue skies and sunshine. Most days I still get the gratitude of ‘I live here now’ especially driving alongside the harbour on the route into Corfu Town, the big skies and far horizon.  

It’s ok to be quiet and reflective. It’s what I needed. To wait, to respond to life and to what comes.  I’m busy enough, still looking into screens, to-do lists, writing, and occasionally making a proposal for a summer group.  It’s enough. Knowing that life happens when it happens, that others too are gently stirring to action. That the diary will fill. Maybe there is no rush to tie things down immediately. It’s enough. Life is long. 


Being Here. Now.


Where do we begin? Here.

I like it here. This first winter is filled with weekly ecstatic dance followed by coffee at the beach, walks in nature on the cliffs and beaches, and discovering places I’ve hitherto not had time for. Porto Timoni in January is stunning and spacious though I’m not much of a swimmer or sailor, I’m dreaming of little boats in bays like this. At home the fire is cosy, and on sunny days there’s warm watery beauty between the thunderstorms. And some days it's astonishingly 15 degrees heat alongside the cool winds from the snowtopped mountains in Albania we see from the garden. Driving in my cute little lease car is a joy, I’m easily awed by the sunlight filtering the olive trees and the fading red and ochre-painted Corfiot villas with ancient doorways, and tiny village paths. There are breathtaking views around each bend. I only drove in Corfu for the first time last year so that was another satisfying accomplishment of a fear overcome.  I love occasional trips to Corfu town to buy bits and pieces of homewares, discover shops and restaurants off-season and do ordinary things like getting a haircut or buying a fuse, crossing the threshold of hardware stores gradually. I see Ben and Sacha around and it feels good to keep connection and possibility. 

These end-of-January days are the first I’ve had the place and time to myself. A time to reflect and plan, rest and hide. I love that there’s nowhere much to go and a limit on what to do. I haven’t moved much beyond the Arrillas Magoulades border yet as I settle; bonding with the house as we welcome each other into this new long-term relationship based on commitment, creativity, freedom and appreciation. Appreciation for what I’ve been given and for what I hope to create. 

I’ve always had a sense of creating an arty, writerly, connecting, gathering place so I’m wondering how to do that. The heart of Mandala is dedicated to creativity and love and that’s the head-scratching next step, of translating everyday destiny into a lived reality. Somehow in small glimmers, new ideas and possibilities are emerging. Interesting people are asking to come and stay, I want to stack the house in favour of friends, and people coming to Buddha Hall, Evolve or Agape Zoe.


I do ask myself if I can really run a business like this. Why not? Who else is going to decide? I figure if I have at least a decade here, Mandala will be a journey over time. A contrast to the 90 days parcels I lived during Covid times, in Italy, Albania, Corfu, Mexico and Colombia. I liked those times, writing in beautiful places, mostly in solitude and quiet. It was restful the second month, once I settled. So I wonder how my wandering soul feels about staying here for a while. I’m glad I chose the peace of this time. 

And in November 2023, my house in Hebden Bridge finally sold to a wonderful buyer. So with that small sigh of relief comes a big wave of appreciation for the patience, shared vision and trust in the process. I felt and feel the love and belief of so many. It was a daunting process at times, a lot of nerves were held. 

And now I’m minding the gap between what is still owed and the luxury of creative freedom. What’s clear is what worked isn’t going to come close to being what’s needed for the future. 'Tis big to buy a house in a foreign country, leave a life of 15 years behind, and begin anew, and yet on some levels, I don’t feel scared by destiny, though I’m sometimes overwhelmed by buildings and business structures. That’s natural. Who wouldn’t be? 

I can’t do this alone. I could never do this alone. What’s obvious Mandala needs a team - co-owners, fixers, gardeners, cooks, paying guests, bean-counters, painters, cleaners and creators if it’s going to be a refuge, intentional community, healing, holiday and events space. I watched Swimmers while I was back in the UK in November, a deeply moving film, so I’m aware of how privileged I’ve been to land in Greece with a wad of cash (not mine) and be given access to sun, beauty and comfort. While magic undoubtedly happened, it’s humbling. I ask myself and the guides who brought me here regularly, “How am I to use this privilege wisely?” 



Getting Here. Then.


“Call Sacha.”

These were the words I heard in a meditation after I’d come back from Evolve The Gathering in June 2022. Sacha and Ben are the previous owners who have made Mandala House the beautiful space it is today. I’d been to Mandala twice and fallen in love with the olive press, with the view, with the light with the space. The first time to a Kundalini meditation and the second to one of Sacha’s restorative yoga classes. I’d only walked through the house and turned left, taken part in the class and left again. 

Checking out the voice I’d heard with my pendulum which said Yes, I had a conversation with Sacha that went something along the lines of, ”We’re just about to start the legalities to sell it to Tex next week, so if you’d like to make us an offer by Friday, we’d love to hear it.”

So with no plan, no surveyor, and no valuation, I made an offer. I wasn’t looking for a house in Corfu but I was looking for change. Mandala must have been looking for me. We all knew that immediately. Sometimes destiny is simply a deeper sense of knowing. In true hippie style, I did check it out with my clairvoyant who a couple of years previously had said that Arrillas was ‘my happy place’.  As that then was only my second visit it was news to me. I thought my soul place was Bali. 

Her words “The house has an amazing aura. Go for it.”

I made an offer. Sacha and Ben said yes. 


And only then did the quest begin. In September 2023 I put my house on the market in Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire and a buyer offered the same price as Mandala. Hurrah, the gods were on our side. So we began legal proceedings in 2 countries. I began to pack up my stuff, Indonesian textiles, dowry boxes, chairs, art and books and began selling off my furniture. All good so far, as we were working with a deadline, as the chance for a golden visa was about to change in 2024. 

Our paths had already crisscrossed in countless ways, little clues scattered to show us to keep the faith and hold the vision high. We believed. Sacha’s mum lives near me in Hebden Bridge and I’d met her on my first visit to Mandala. The week the contract was to be signed & the day before the shippers came to pick up my stuff, the buyers changed their minds.  A sliding doors moment.

And so the decision to trust in the process began…on both sides. 

I shipped my stuff. 

We all held our vision, our conversations continued, and magic happened over the next few months. Offers of loans on both sides so Sacha and Ben could move to a family house in Avliotes. Every obstacle found a solution. It tools grace, patience and cash. Manifesting is nothing without cash flow. It just happened not to be mine. Miraculous. 

Almost a year after the celestial “Call Sacha” instruction, with legal fees & debt navigated & doubt included, we sealed the deal in July 2023. And because of the post-Brexit 90-day rule, I left two days later, leaving Mandala in the capable hands of our inestimable housekeeper Rowan. The first summer had everyday crises of domesticity, water tanks splitting, and fridges not freezing, yet each time an effortless solution appeared, guests, friends & volunteers showed up from unexpected places, cooking, folding laundry and digging the garden. 

The gods are still with us, smiling no doubt amused at how some hapless idealistic hippy with, to be fair, little sense of building maintenance, business management or ambition, has inherited the heart and elegance of Mandala. Sex geek Ali‘s focus on pleasure and beauty is being pulled towards the practical from checking pooh tanks, to laundry, With 56 shutters to maintain, there’s both bewilderment and trust.