New Video: Affirmations for Money and Me

Affirmations for Money and Me is the new video on Tales & Meditations. It contains affirmations to not only help you change your mindset surrounding money and living an abundant life, but also those to help you feel good and grateful about being you.

My First Attempt at an Intro Video

Here’s my first attempt at an intro video for my YouTube channel Tales & Meditations. I’m sure I’ll do another one sometime [very] soon, as there’re some things I forgot to say.

Plus, I made the rookie mistake of holding the camera vertically(!)

Oh how we live and learn…

But it’ll do for now.

Blessings.

Gavin

Thank you, Maharaji

So this is what happened…

My wife and I step on the free bus to the MRT. We’re on our way to the east of Taiwan for a weekend vacation. (We currently live in Taipei.)

A Feel-good Guided Meditation

If you’re looking for a quick pick-me-up in the form of a guided meditation, then look no further than my latest video on Tales & Meditations.

It’s designed to help you drop any of the unwanted heavy stuff and present to the world a new version of yourself.

I hope you enjoy it 🙂

Blessings.

Gavin

Snippets of the Seasons

I’ve just uploaded, to Tales & Meditations, excerpts from the audiobook of my teeny tiny fable, The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair.

It’s a story about how a friendship blossoms through the four seasons, and what each of the seasons represents.

Soul Messengers

I remember when I first heard Linda Roper’s narration of my book, The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair.

At the sound of her soothing voice, I was instantly transported to the following scene:

Affirmations for the Dying

(Taken from the description in the new video.)

Those of us who are dying can often feel alone. 

They’re turning into butterflies, when their loved ones, even though they may mean well, want to keep them as caterpillars.

That’s understandable. 

Tales & Meditations – A New Adventure

I’m super pleased to announce that I’ve set up a YouTube channel.

It’s called Tales & Meditations, and has come directly from an inner nudge that wouldn’t leave me alone.

A Caterpillar’s Love Letter to his Butterfly

A Typical Day in Taipei

A leaf dances in the wind, a tree waves to the sky.

A child takes her first steps beside a blood bank.

The reflection of a bird flies by on the screen of your phone.

A toothless old woman, beautiful when looked at through selfless eyes, grins at the alien.

Young girls take selfies with victory Vs and Korean hearts, and old girls pose next to monuments. Been there. Been there.

An elderly man sits like a butterfly, day in day out, ankles purple and swollen, bruised and cracked, like an old painting or an ancient ceramic pot unearthed. Every day he waves but never smiles.

His son sometimes sits by him, listening to Buddhist chants on his phone, smoking, and drinking bottles of sugar-free green tea.

A profusion of sounds and colours: laughs and greens, cries and blues. Reds, oranges, pinks and yellows, and the barking of a dog as it chases a rusty squirrel.

The thud-thud-thud of a bouncing basketball, it sloshing through the net.

The crunch of gravel under fallen feet.

Leaves rustle, and lapping water licks.

Families having picnics, children chasing bubbles, climbing slippery rocks.

The mechanical sounds and harsh smells of manmade things: scooters and trucks, cigarettes and fried food. Incense.

Coffee beans roasting, and a wicker basket of wrinkling tea leaves basks in the sun.

A fruit fly buzzes and moans, and a caged bird sings the old song of freedom.

Mosquitos whistle whilst trying their best to pierce your armour.

Weeds between the paving slabs not trying to reach the sun but succeeding anyhow.

A plane flies overhead, below one even higher. A swallow shows off, then returns to its spittle home above your head.

A black cat in the market sits on weighing scales, dozing, with its tiny pink tongue hanging out.

A crying woman is hugged by a stranger—bad news.

A man sits alone on a bench—no news yet.

A scared boy cries for his mum, bottom lip trembling. A tatty street dog puts its head under his hand, and the boy stops crying. It’s not so bad being lost, you know.

Groups of men playing dominoes and checkers in the shade of great banyan trees, while their wives dance with other men.

Dogs in pushchairs, children on leads. Parrots on shoulders.

An old woman, walking with a stick decorated with bangles, yells obscenities to those only she can see. She lives in ruins.

The delicious smell of sweet potatoes in sugary syrup, shiny and golden.

Freshly baked breads with red beans.

Windows filled with cakes that tease the eyes and disappoint the tongue.

The unconditioned nose wrinkles at stinky tofu, and the eyes gawp at pigs’ trotters, marinated intestines, and the hearts of chickens.

A pig’s mask, all flesh and no bone, hangs by a hook through one of its drooping eye sockets. Good for broth.

Vegetarian buffets aplenty save so many days.

The day retires with a sky of purple and pink.

A small black bat shoots through the steam of cooking chestnuts, under the orange glare of a streetlamp.

The moon rises yellow over cold, quiet buildings.

But the city never sleeps.

***