Thursday, April 21, 2016

Today I love...

Blossom, blue skies and bees

It's been a sticky sort of a week - aches, fears and frustrations swirling and if you'd asked me what I loved on Monday or Tuesday I might have struggled to find an answer. So the first thing I love today is that I feel fondly enough about life to make a list of loves!

I'm also loving - warm sun paired with cool April breezes, birds in flight, my new stack of library books calling out to me to be read, making lunch plans with friends, yoga, vanilla rooibos tea, feeling visible, my four colour biro, being at the start of a season, knowing that it is a full moon tomorrow, jacket potatoes planned for tea, soft cat noses, blossom, blossom and blossom, Artweeks soon, online shopping, the thought of tucking in to bed tonight.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

24 hours of Glastonbury

Walking up Glastonbury Tor 9th April 2016

Tree with offering ribbon at Glastonbury Tor

Journalling and researching St Michael

A week on from an overnight blast of Glastonbury I'm just starting to feel into where that magic place has created some new spaces to explore. My favourite time was spent with the Tor. It's a wonderful way marker of health, of vitality, of a trust in my body that for so many years evaded me. It's also right on the St Michael leyline and if my psychic reading is to be believed he's a spirit guide of mine.

I'm in two minds as to whether that last sentence needs an exclamation mark or not. Having a psychic reading was my "gently stepping over boundaries/living the willingness to be open to new experiences/exploring my magic" part of this fun trip. Before the reading it definitely would have had an exclamation mark; after, it feels out of place. It was such a gentle, straightforward experience. Much as I know better, I guess there's still a lot of Hollywood, Madame Zelda type associations in my mind when the word psychic arises. The lack of gold hoop earrings and tall, dark strangers was pleasingly compensated for by some very sane advice. Lots of gentle, practical things to explore - most of which centre around finding a real sense of peace and home within my body. This makes such deep sense to me. Years of chronic illness burn through any easy relationship between mind, body and spirit. I'm slowly rebuilding and letting magic be a part of that feels very important.

There was a moment when Sabrina and I were chatting where I wondered whether I should be telling her so much, as if I wanted to test what she could pick up from my soul without my conscious participation. That is such an illustration of this wrestling within me - the need to see it to believe it versus the deep longing for more than the surface. I take so much of 'science' on trust that, as with the moment when I committed to being open to allow her the best insight in to 'me' as a whole, I am committed to having some faith in the unseen, the mystery, the Divine.

Thursday, April 07, 2016

Letting go of what and where and when..

Overwintered pelargonium as a metaphor for making it through the winter
...and how and why and probably who.

I'm a curious orange and spend so much time in my head with the serving men as the mighty Kipling called them in The Elephants's Child:

 I Keep six honest serving-men:
       (They taught me all I knew)
     Their names are What and Where and When
       And How and Why and Who.
     I send them over land and sea,
       I send them east and west;
     But after they have worked for me,
       I give them all a rest.

It's the last bit that trips me up, I spend so much time working them that I often forget to give them a rest. I have that poem on my pinboard at work, as a researcher it pleases me greatly to come back to those questions when I've been sidetracked off in to a blind alley. As a human Being I often try and use them to stop me getting in to blind alley, even though I know that getting somewhere you don't ultimately want to be can actually bring the greatest learning. I spend time trying to think my way through instead of moving my way through.

I am deliberately underscheduled for a week of leave from work, I have carefully chosen the few engagements for the week and actively cultivated hours of white space to try and tune in to my intuition, my body's wisdom and to play. To try and give that overwrought mind a rest and find some space within. From the bustle of the weeks leading up to this, dragging through the end of winter, picking up a stinking cold to weigh me down further, the thought of lots of nothing felt like the most wonderful mirage. All of the week and weekend before I could see myself step one side of the exhaustion line or the other - either facing down a spiral of despair that leads to me, unwashed on the sofa with only the internet and cats for company. (Maybe not even the cats or the internet when all money has dried up). (Wait, no sofa or house either come to think of it). Or Happy Moments when the promise of the Week of Sarah had me climbing up the spiral into the blossom cushioned blue sky.

On Monday when I was on my own all I wanted to do was sleep and I felt very in the despair and convinced that a mere week would never be enough. From that place of deep weariness I found it so hard to let go and sink in to sleep, even though I logically knew that it's the greatest healer, even though my body was crying out for it, Even Though I Had Nothing Else I Had to Do - the serving men were jumping all over the place measuring what was happening up against my hopes and expectations. My mind was so busy with what I should be doing, how the week could be maximised to bring the greatest rewards to my health and happiness. I watched my poor brain get knottier and my spirit sink lower as the inner toddler got more and more overtired and overwhelmed. Sleep by now having fled the crazy I did what I have gradually learned to do and kept on offering soothing solutions from my bag of tricks and eventually managed to calm the scared little down enough to nap and bathe and take a restorative yoga class. A good night's sleep saw me open Tuesday out feeling no more physically sparky but just enough this side of overtired to feel much more peaceful about the rest. To feel that change of perspective is the best evidence to my mind that the catastrophising of the day before was just a hysterical story and many weeks of doing absolutely nothing would not actually be required to make me feel half human again.

So it goes, round and round, the same challenges but each spiral around I am a little different and can play with the story to find new pathways. It's not been a smooth linear progression this week but the sparkle is definitely coming back. I feel I am very much like my little overwintered pelargonium pictured above, I've lost a lot of leaves and am a touch dishevelled round the edges but from this place today I can feel that my roots are in place and the new leaves are coming.

Monday, February 29, 2016

February 29th

Crow flying in the blue sky of February 29th
Just geeking out about the extra day. Remembering where I was four years ago, so bitter that the extra day was a work day. So grateful that is not my feeling today. So grateful for the bright, blue sky and sunshine and the crazy birdsong extravaganza going on out there today.

Love this quirky little fellow of a day. The Google Doodle today has a little bunny for 29 leaping in, easing into a spot he makes for himself between 28 and 1 and snuggling down. Very pleasing to me. There's something so quaint and anachronistic about our calendar, I see something rebellious about today. The fact that our orbit doesn't fit nicely in to the box of days we offer it and so we have to make it work a bit better, make it room with an extra day every four years. I like that.

I guess I identify with that. I feel like the extra bunny a lot of the time. Trying to find my space. I watched X+Y at the weekend and sort of loved it and sort of hated it. The ending? Anyway it left me sobbing, wretched for Luke who was holding it all together when he was weird and gifted but doesn't know what to do with himself in the world when the gifted label is taken away. He doesn't know how to make himself the right shape. I wish we were allowed to be odder. I don't like how much energy I give to trying to be the right shape. I am trying to love my awkward. I honour it today.

Friday, January 29, 2016

Quiet

This week has been the shadow of the light of last week. Squashed by a stomach bug less than 24 hours after I typed the last post. I might have been relishing all the colour of my life but then you find another perspective and it's been a black and white fortnight. In the grey I have found self care and compassion that validated all I wrote. I said thank you for the opportunity to reinforce my progress. I laughed. Also I cried and felt flat and sorry for myself. Yet always out of the harder bits of life come the biggest lessons and I tried to welcome that. I saw how afraid I am of doing nothing. I think I have cultivated time for stillness. Another perspective could be that I have created safe little pockets to dip into. I write this to help me remember when I am in the swirl of busy and exciting bemoaning the lack of peace and quiet: I create the swirl to avoid the quiet. That the quiet scares me because of what I might hear. I promise to try and listen.
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