Conversations with my Mum

Four days holiday in France.

Peace. Quiet. Rest. Swimming. Sunshine.

And my Mum.

Jilly has been a folk-singer, a teacher, a therapist and a counsellor. She paints, smokes and drinks. She loves to talk, to question, to challenge and analyse. She writes down her dreams. And reads what she's written on New Year's Eve.

She's a wonderful grandmother to my two boys. She's always teased them, played with them, laughed with them and listened to them.

So much of what I do is thanks to her. She's given me courage to act on what I know is right. She's taught me to ask good questions. And she's the person I've known longest in my life. Not because she's my Mum, but because she's shown me herself ever since I was a young boy. Sometimes, when I was young, that made my life a little bit harder. But now I realise her honesty to me was and is an extraordinary gift.

Because of my Mum, it never occurs to me that specialising in how people talk to each other isn't a worthwhile way to spend my time.

So when people raise their eyebrows and say: "You help people talk to each other?" I can smile and just say "Yes."

So being able to spend a few days with her in France - surrounded by sunshine and love, rest and peace, good food, wine and water - and to see her relaxing, smiling and reading... to talk to her, listen to her, be listened to by her...

These are great pleasures to share.

Thanks Mum.