After a summer spent in a wheelchair and on crutches, September saw me back on two feet. My intention for La Rentrée, or Back to School/Work, was to work smarter instead of harder. And the theme for all my classes was to meet ourselves exactly where we were, without judgement or criticism. I’m delighted to say that both strategies worked.

September is the month we sort our heating for the winter. Something we’ve been doing together as a family ever since we arrived in France 10 years ago. And something I did with my family growing up. I have always loved cutting, moving and stacking wood. Our kids have not always been quite as  keen as their mad mother, but this year they were awesome.

Sorry, guys, but I just had to share these photos from our first Happy Coulson wooding in September 2012.



August rolled joyfully by with the help of Thanos, our Greek workaway. Thanos was my right-foot man, chauffering me around in both car and wheelchair (although he quickly learned NEVER to help push my wheelchair unless I asked!). Also a very skillful guitarist, Thanos taught me the joy of sitting under a tree, making music, rather than rushing around doing things. Most days, I would sing while he played, and we ended up with a pretty impressive setlist. So I have my broken ankle and Thanos to thank for helping me understand the importance of asking for and receiving help. Why should I deny others the same joy I get from giving?

Tana's first motorbikeAugust was also the month that saw Tana, aged still 15, get his first road wheels. Living in rural France has been, and still is, a huge bonus for our family, but teenagers want and need a bit of independence. So we were all delighted to learn that after just one day of training on a scooter, Tana was allowed to ride anything up to 50cc. Of course, the scooter didn’t have gears so Tana spent a few weeks riding around the fields, learning how to change gear without stalling. Chris and I both love bikes. Growing up, I had a three-wheeled all terrain cycle and then a scooter. Chris got his first superbike aged 16. Watching him pass on his knowledge and love of motorbikes to our son gave me all the feels.

July 2021 was the month I was REALLY forced to slow down. Two years of Lyme disease had already slowed me from a sprint to a jog, and taught me how to tune in to what my body was telling me, instead of doing ALL THE THINGS, just because I could. Breaking my leg brought me to a screeching halt, just before summer. Bummer.

Anyone who knows me well was genuinely worried about how I would cope with not being able to walk or drive during the most fun months of the year. I didn’t even let myself think about it. My first tactic was to focus on my breath, to get steady, to deal with the pain, to stay in the present moment and avoid slipping into past regrets or future fears. That worked a treat. As did my armoury of meditation and yoga (there is always a way!) and the plethora of energy healing, plant medicine and general love and support showered upon me by my friends and family.

Following emergency surgery to hold my leg together with metal (see Franken-Ankle, left), my bones healed really quickly. This meant that I only had my beautifully-decorated cast for two weeks. While delighted that I was healing so well, without my comforting exoskeleton my leg felt very naked and vulnerable and I had to adapt my yoga practice to reflect this.

But I still didn’t need painkillers. In fact, despite needing ALL the pain relief in hospital after the operation, once I was home I was able to come off all drugs after a couple of days. I’m using homeopathy (arnica for bruising and symphytum for bone knitting) and energy healing from my gifted friends.

July is always busy at Happy Coulson, especially as we had two French teenagers staying for a couple of weeks to learn English. I taught the language classes and coordinated the activities, with more than a little help from my friends, and the boys had a wonderful time. Once I allowed myself to feel the frustration of not being able to join in, it was easy to enjoy the rare treat of being home alone, with time to just be.

Wow, what a month! The world opened up just enough to allow our yoga and conscious cooking retreat to go ahead. My theme was Open to Receive, and boy oh boy, did we ever. The weather was perfect, the people divine, and everyone found exactly what we had intended, a bit of radical self-care.

Held at the magical Domaine de Hongrie in Lupiac, this was my richest experience ever of holding space for a retreat. The three French women who came all said that their friends and family had warned them that it sounded like a cult! We laughed about this, but I don’t disagree. A cult is described as a group of people defined by a devotion to something. Well, my cult is compassion and I am devoted to helping people practice this, towards themselves and others.

Part of my practice of self-compassion and self-care following this heart- and mind-blowing retreat was to do something just for me. With my dear friend, Louisa Hallewell, who provides the conscious cooking on our retreats, we spent an afternoon doing aerial yoga on silks. It was an incredible experience.

For the first time in my life, I felt that it was possible to be strong and feminine. And I managed to climb the silk all the way to the top, something I have never been able to do. My body felt strong and balanced, but also elegant and graceful. It seemed to me that this was something I had been preparing for my whole life.

We came away from flying yoga exhilarated and excited about going again in a couple of weeks. Then I broke my leg – tibia and fibula. Jumping on silage bales with India. I knew I had done something serious so a trip to the ‘urgences’ was inevitable. But even then, my ever-optimistic mind was reassuring me it wasn’t broken. I was eventually x-rayed at 1.30am and told the news, to my great surprise.

Emergency surgery followed, to put in a metal plate to hold the bones together, and I came home with a plaster, which was soon decorated with rainbows, hearts and unicorns. The idea of a static summer would usually be ‘l’horreur’ for me, but, once again, I felt that this was something I had been preparing for my whole life…

During May, France began to inch her way out of lockdown. We celebrated by streaming the Glastonbury festival onto a big screen in the camping field. There were some technical difficulties in the UK, but this just meant we had time to enjoy our own music and dance like loons around the fire.

Early summer parties are always exciting as it signals the start of better weather and months of outdoor fun. But this year, it was even more important as it coincided with the lifting of lockdown and curfew rules. There was a real feeling of rediscovering something we had forgotten we had lost.

Here’s hoping the perfect unfolding can now begin in earnest. But we’ll roll with the punches and ride the waves. Obvs.


Sign in Vic-en-Bigorre. Nuff said.

I rarely share my opinion as it’s just my opinion, based on what I have experienced and learned, and it can evolve or change at any moment, so why would I inflict it on others? But I am often asked so felt moved to write this blog. (Caveat: I am in no way looking for political, or otherwise, debate. Thank you xx).

I read and hear a lot about ‘conspiracy theorists’ and ‘anti-vaxxers’ (although I don’t like either of these labels as they sound to me judgemental and provocative). In my chosen community of Facebook friends, which includes a lot of yoga teachers and heart-led folk, many people are asking brave questions about what is happening in the world and wondering if there is a better way of doing things. This is never easy in a world shaped by habit, but I believe that constant review is a healthy practice that should be encouraged.

However, as with most things, the balance is sometimes lost. People with the kindest hearts and best intentions can become disappointed, disempowered and disillusioned, and resort to combative and hateful language and argument. For me, this approach never works and will often alienate sympathetic souls.

For what it’s worth, this is how I currently deal with what is going on in the world:

I choose to believe that people are intrinsically good.
I choose not to follow the news.
I choose not to get involved in debate.
I choose not to do things just because other people do, or because that’s the way it’s always been.
I choose never to judge or blame myself or others.
I choose never to be influenced by fear.
I choose to work on getting myself steady, using breath, yoga and meditation.
I choose to think less, and feel more.
I choose to neutralise, not dramatise (thank you, RozyGlow).
I choose to live each moment as it comes, untainted by regrets about the past or fear of the future.
I choose to feel into each situation as it arises.
I choose to practice listening to and trusting my instinct.
I choose to try every day to be my best self, forgiving and loving myself when I mess up.
I choose to be kind and compassionate. Always.
I choose to be grateful, every damn day.
I choose to be the change I want to see in the world.
I choose to be humble enough to admit when I need to let something go.
I choose to be open to possibilities, potential, even miracles.
I choose to do whatever I can to look after my health, inside and out, before searching elsewhere.
I choose to believe that happiness is not a destination, it’s a way of life that takes practice.

Some people might think that this approach to life makes me naive, ignorant, even stupid, and that’s ok. What other people think of me is none of my business (thank you, RozyGlow) 😉

I’m sharing this because choosing these things makes me happy, even during these crazy times. Of course, I recognise that I am very fortunate to live where I do, with the people in my life and the opportunities available to me. But I do believe that it’s possible for everyone to choose to thrive instead of just survive.

So, DO I believe in conspiracy theories and WILL I have the vaccine? You are welcome to draw the conclusions of your own choosing 🙂 (Oh, did I not mention that I can also be really irritating?)

Jim reading the paper with baby Tana

My beloved stepdad, Jimbo, passed away peacefully at home on 20 January, holding my mum’s hand. My darling mum, who spent every last bit of energy keeping him at home, refusing to let him be taken into a hospice, where she would only get to see him for 20 minutes a day, in full protective clothing. I believe that fulfilling Jim’s wishes until the end is one of my mum’s greatest achievements.

The last couple of years have not been easy for mum and Jim and I haven’t been able to help her as much as I would have liked. I always said that I would go over to be with her as soon as Jim passed, and no UK Covid variant, international travel ban or Brexit was going to stop me. But when it came down to actually getting to the UK AND back again, it seemed a daunting prospect…

I found myself having to practice what I preach. When things seem too much of a struggle, take a step back, breathe and trust. Suddenly, everything started falling into place. A sheaf of documents, six trains and two Covid tests later, I was reunited with my mum, sister and brother after more than a year apart. It was the best of times and it was the worst of times. But I will be forever grateful that I was able to say a fitting farewell to one of the kindest, gentlest men I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Jim Tatford, I salute you.

This was Friday rush-hour.


Travelling on the London Underground, with glasses to protect against eyeball contamination, was surreal.



My sister greeted me with gluten-free Turkish Delight brownies.

Reunited with my mummy.



After the service, we went for a walk in an ancient yew wood with my brother and his boys.

The socially-distanced service was beautiful, and people who couldn’t come were invited to line the street or watch online. All was well.









We welcomed the new year in with cautious optimism. January is nearly over and a third confinement is looming. But we are still optimistic. When things seem difficult we go out for a walk with the dogs. We walk and we talk.

We’re very lucky that we can walk from our house but whenever we can, we head into the mountains, to blow away the cobwebs and get things back in perspective. There’ll be no skiing this year, so Chris and I have bought raquettes (snow shoes) and a couple of guidebooks so we can still escape into the snow.

We LOVE Christmas here at Happy Coulson. Between us, Chris and I own nearly 10 festive jumpers – our latest additions (purchased in Lidl, other stores are available) proudly displayed here. Chris found a Father Christmas jumper that actually looked like him, and I was particularly excited by mine as it features hip and trendy street slang that our teenagers just ADORE me using.

As for many people in this crazy Corona year, Christmas came early to Happy Coulson. We did wait until December but then it was full steam ahead, with trees, decorations and enough twinkly lights to be seen from space. As India put it, as she remonstrated with us for having the lights on every day: “Wow, you really are bleeding energy this year”.

Delivering a festive boot of Floc de Gasgogne

The barn/yoga studio “bleeding energy”



Nature’s decorations


Christmas Day cuddles

Skyrunners and skates

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