My father died in December 2024.

He was the most soulful man, a truly beautiful soul, the kindest person. He was a jazz saxophonist with an incredible gift to play by ear. He taught me to listen, to be present, to trust the breath. He taught me to express my aliveness. I was truly lucky to be his daughter, and I’m grateful to have had the chance to be with him at his last breath.

Last summer we were on a boat in the Farne Islands in the north-east of England together, with the seals and the puffins. We were near Holy Island, the home of the great northerner St Bede who described life as…

“The swift flight of a sparrow through the mead-hall where you sit at supper in at one door and immediately out at another…So this life of man appears for a little while, but of what is to follow or what went before we know nothing at all.”

I always take August off and this year it’s a time to let my soul catch up with all that has happened, to keep the people I love in focus and to slow down. I’m going back to the north east. More time to breathe, to be. To stare at the sky, not at a screen. To make the most of this short flight through the wonder of life.