When I announced over a year ago I was launching this newsletter, I didn’t think it would fall quite so far down my to-do list. But, here we are, somehow in November 2019, with autumn shedding her last leaves and winter whispering us forth, and finally I feel just about ready to put some words into your inbox…

This time of year has long been one of reflection for me. My own seasons echo those past, and autumn is always one of bright optimism. Its leaf-strewn landscapes and fresh blue skies feel full of life; its hustle’n’bustley energy brimming with all-that-could-be. It brings with it a hopeful confidence, one that’s been stitched into my being since September 2007, when my Mum was starting back at work, cancer-free, after almost a year of treatment. I remember her first morning heading into the office. She came downstairs wearing a new suit and a back-to-school glow. Her hair was starting to grow back all tufty and cute, and she was wrapped in such a warm joy, it’s one I still find myself hungrily seeking out every September. On that first day back, Mum practically danced out the door, sipping her flask of hot tea, her packed lunch of bean salad, beetroot chutney and Ryvitas tucked into her handbag. She stopped only to give us all a sloppy kiss.

I remember too in the weeks that followed a thick relief hung in the air. As a 16-year-old with funner things to do than worry about Mum, I felt so grateful, so ready for the year to be over. Impatient and itching for the rest of our illness-free life to start. I didn’t once look up at the trees that autumn, or breathe in its fresh air, or stop to revel in the lightness of our days – or even, once, enjoy Mum in all her bright-eyed vitality.

It turned out I didn't have long to anyway. By November we’d been hit with the ‘it’s-back-and-incurable’ prognosis. And by Christmas Mum was dead. And so autumn for me will always be a short, sweet moment between summer and winter, life and death. A reminder to be present – to not wish away any chapter of your life. To bask in the extraordinary ordinariness of our days – of a good morning wearing a new outfit, sipping freshly-brewed tea, sloppy kissing your loved ones, because these are life’s golden moments.

This autumn I’ve been trying to channel the hopeful optimism of Mum’s last autumn. I’ve been trying, and sometimes failing, then trying again, to capture that grateful-to-be-alive joy – not always easy. But, unlike my 16-year-old self, I’ve been looking up and out at the world more and more. I’ve been resisting the urge to fast-forward. I’ve been stubbornly trying to exist in the now, collecting moments like I collect fallen leaves. The kind that dance through the air towards the ground, towards death, living out their final weeks, bright and beautiful, just like Mum.

In my shameless pursuit of joy this season, I’ve been trying to figure out ways to be more present, and to learn to become, as Nir Eyal put it at his recent Guardian Masterclass, ‘indistractable’ (which also happens to be the name of his new book, which I very much recommend). This is all a work in progress for me – I still spend far too much time in my own head – so I’d love to hear your own COYM techniques.

1/ WALK OUTSIDE EVERY DAY – easier said than done when it’s dark at 4pm and often drizzly. But I’ve started wrapping up all cosy, making myself a cup of tea to go, and then setting off on a walk with no plan. Often I don’t even take my phone, which always feels a little rebellious, but is so good for helping me see and enjoy things without that ‘this would make a good pic!’ filter.

2/ SCHEDULE IN SLOW SOCIALISING – I spend a lot (too much?) time alone, which means when I’m thrown into a random dinner party after a day writing, or a coffee catch up in London in between meetings, I often find it hard to change gears and engage. My new thing is to organise more substantial time with friends – weekends away or a sleepover here and there, so we can really ease into each other’s company.

3/ MAKE SOMETHING, ANYTHING – devoting more time on my illustration this autumn has been huge for me and my MEH (mental and emotional health). Just using a different part of my brain from that needed for emails, writing and editing, has really allowed the noisy part of my mind to quieten down, whilst still feeding my creativity. Insert here anything crafty and handsy – knitting, baking, jigsawing…

4/ FIT IN YOGA – even though I know categorically that moving my body is good for me, makes me feel great and actually helps my work ~flow~ too, I still don’t prioritise it enough. Paying £20 a month for the app Glo has helped massively though. I feel accountable to my ‘four classes a week’ target, and there’s always something for exactly where you’re at that day.

5/ NO PHONE IN BED – or the bedroom. This is definitely not a popular option if you have a partner who loves a before-bed news binge, or early morning scroll, but it’s a life-enhancing one I think. Shutting the online world off at 10pm brings me back into the real world. Another extension of mine and my phone’s ‘conscious uncoupling’ is that I’ve switched off all notifications, so I now have to actively seek out what was before passive insta-scrolling, whatsapping and inbox check-ins.

A note on this newsletter

My hope is that The Hungry Heart will grow to be a lovely little e-space to explore, as my Mum would put it, the ‘big fat juicy stuff’ in life, like love and loss and everything in between. But I also want to share the little things too – food, books, podcasts, as well as cool projects I’m working on or interesting tidbits I’ve come across that month.

Maybe it’ll be the sort of thing you read on your way to work, or you’ll settle down to over a cuppa, but however you enjoy it, I hope you do enjoy it, and if you do, I’d love to hear from you – whether via an email reply or over on Twitter. And if you really like it, maybe a friend will too, in which case please do forward on and share! Finally, if this newsletter was forwarded on to you, perhaps you’d also like to subscribe here?

R E A D I N G

C O O K I N G

photography by Kathrin McCrea

BEAST magazine

Feeling very proud and excited by the latest issue of BEAST magazine, which is just out and features on its cover Indian actor and singer-songwriter Shruti Haasan (who is soon to launch her music career in the UK). If you’re East London living, loving or working, you can subscribe here for £24/year (UK p+p included). Let me know you do! You can also follow us over on Instagram @beastmag_london.

Photography by Adam Brazier, styling by Maria Loizou, hair & makeup by ruuby.com, red suit by Zara, and location Courthouse Hotel Shoreditch.

Liz Earle Wellbeing magazine

I interviewed award-winning journalist and author Poorna Bell for the latest issue of Liz Earle Wellbeing magazine. We spoke about navigating the aftermath of a devastating loss, how to support a grieving loved one – particularly over the festive period, and those dreaded ‘deathiversaries’. On grief, Poorna said: “sometimes being able to sit with your sadness and lean into it is the first step in building your life back up in a way that’s positive. But it is a lifelong process”. A reminder for us all perhaps that our sadnesses, big or small, don’t always have to be ‘fixed’.

You can subscribe to Liz Earle Wellbeing magazine here or buy a copy at
most newsagents and supermarkets.

I N S T A G R A M

Find me over on @hungryromantic sharing stories, illustrations and recommendations – as well as the occasional pic of my handsome boyfriend ;-)

Emma Winterschladen is a freelance writer, editor and illustrator based between Wiltshire and London. She is also Editor of BEAST, a print magazine dedicated to all things East London, and Food and Travel Editor of Liz Earle Wellbeing magazine.

If you would like to commission writing, illustrations or recipes, or enquire about any other project, please email thehungryromantic@hotmail.com.

Copyright © 2019 The Hungry Heart, All rights reserved