#24 Grateful for One Step Back

A little entry today as words seem kinda flat.

This day has been slow and uncomfortable and I feel like this year might be 2016 all over again, like history is repeating! I know, it won’t be. One thing we can be certain of in life is change but at the end of 2016 I was feeling lighter, like I made two strident steps into the world of wellbeing. Now I’m not saying my wellbeing has gone to shit over the past week, it hasn’t but I do feel like I’ve taken one giant step back.

I wanna curl up and put dreams to bed. I don’t feel pumped about the year ahead and I did, I was ready for 2017 but today, I have felt slow and tired and discombobulated (that is such an awesome word). Writing is hard – words are meaningless, literally they just look like weird shapes on a page… oh wow… I am dragging my knuckles on the floor here!

That is my gratitude right there, reading what I’ve just written and not wanting to fuel the woe-is-me tone anymore. Journalling really does help! Yes today has been slow but that doesn’t mean tomorrow will be too… and some days words don’t pop and sentences don’t flow – it’s ok. I am always telling people that our feelings change, sometimes they mix around minute by minute and that’s.. well human. I need to listen to my own advice and settle into this contraction.

Grateful for one step back as now I can push off my back foot and sprint three steps forward. I don’t even think we go back or forwards anyway, there is no ‘place’ we’re supposed to get to, it just paints a fun picture in my head (me in a crouch position at the start of a race… an image I’ve yet to see become reality)

Tales of Love

 

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Saturate me with tales of love

Not dinner dates or three-day rules

Forget about void conversation

That relentless depletion as illusion builds

And caged intentions quiver, anticipating defeat

My skin is my skin

But my soul is forever boundless in her scope

Let me love, as the trees welcome the ants

Love, as perfume shared by the lavender

So freely coasts the summer breeze

Love, as the sunrise tickles enthusiasms

Yearnings explode. Purples and pinks decorate the mist

Let me feel the truth in love

The bond that ties our hands to the soil

Muddy fingers planting apple seeds and cherry pits

Let me love with no receipt

And watch demands disappear, pulled under by natures current

I think I’m beginning to understanding

What love is

#23 Grateful for Candlelight

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Since Christmas eve, each night we’ve eaten dinner by candlelight. This is not something of tradition in our household. We light the candles at christmas and then put them away at the beginning of January (usually only having lit them on christmas day) until next year. This year, we light the candles each night – a tradition I am now adopting, not just for christmas but through the winter months.

These dark evenings are feeling weighty at the moment. It’s always at this time of year I struggle with claustrophobia and agoraphobia, like grey skies wash over expansions and pull me in. The past week i’ve wanted to hibernate and not get out of bed until the sun comes up (I’m sure I’m not alone in that!). Yin energy is at it’s peak and as this month is in the astrological sign of Capricorn, a cardinal earth sign, this proves challenging and uncomfortable for a woman with no earth in her natal chart.

So light is medicine for me, and oh so heavily craved, plus there’s something about the naked flame that makes me feel alive. It’s like primal instincts know I’m made up of this, the heat and power emitted from one single flame is within me (although I haven’t been feeling very powerful of late). I know that this is the time of year to reflect, to go inward and find more of ourselves, some pieces beautiful, some not so beautiful. These past few days my agoraphobia has been on full blast and I’ve been wanting to hide away. To jump into a cave surrounded by moss or tall grass and just… well I don’t actually know what I’d do if such a situation should arise, I guess I’m just romanticising the wild life.

So candlelight has been such a precious gift the past week or so and I hope to keep this evening ritual burning 😉 The cycle of life needs winter and although the words ‘god, I hate winter’ have bounced off my tongue in the past, I know I need to reestablish the relationship I have with myself in the these darker months – we gotta love our own cycles after all and the feelings and emotions that arise are part of my whole being. Candlelight is keeping my enthusiasm alight ( 😉 ) and this year, some deep exploration is taking place, even if feels really crappy sometimes. I am grateful that I can enjoy these luxuries, that next to a warm and healing flame I am able to meditate, pray, do yoga and now eat with my family. Yes, tonight I am feeling mighty blessed.

 

#22 Grateful for Reiki

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I blamed reiki for the small (epic) breakdown I had last year. Hear me out, I know now it wasn’t the fault of reiki, reiki didn’t do anything other than uncover what was already there but I was angry at how reiki made me feel and I needed something to blame. Kundalini yoga got a thrashing too but that’s for another post.

I took my reiki training over the space of a year or so and I completed the final master course in january 2016. Then… WHACK… I had a breakdown. I haven’t practiced reiki since, not really. I may have participated in a distant healing group but as things got worse for me, I quit the meditations. I stopped doing anything that made me feel… more. I couldn’t cope with much so I thought if I quit all the ‘spiritual’ stuff, things might settle down. They didn’t and I don’t think you can quit being spiritual if that’s who you are (and we’re all spiritual beings, some just tap a little deeper than others). To cut a long story short, I have gotten back to my reiki meditations and it feels GOOD.

After I completed the course and decided to lay off the practice, I thought ‘great, what a fat waste of money’. Oh how wrong I was. It’s NEVER a waste of money to invest in your wellbeing and doing reiki did more for me than, at the time, I could ever have believe. Even when I was at my lowest, I knew I needed to get a whole loada old shit to the surface, to face it, to release it and I guess it was reiki that got the ball rolling.

Now, I realise time is just… well what is time? Time is only as we perceive it and at the time I completed the course, it wasn’t time for me to practice. Who knows, maybe that time is coming soon. All I know is that now I am enjoying the prospect of welcoming reiki back into my life.

I am grateful for the intuitive move to begin the training, even though I didn’t know anything about it. I am grateful that sometimes we don’t need to know at the ‘time’ why we do something as all will be revealed in ‘time’. I am grateful for the faith I have in the process. Now the process is deliciously soothing, as I invite the warm energy of reiki back into my body (not that I think it ever left).

Self care is SO vital. It’s like eating and exercise and all the stuff we do to keep ourselves feeling good. Reiki is now on my self-care regime, a regime I welcome with open arms.

#21 Grateful for 25,000 words

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Firstly, I want to own up to myself that when I began this gratitude diary, my intentions were to update every day for the next year. Ops, didn’t happen. I wanted to be all philosophical about it, I wanted each entry to ‘mean’ something. In the drawn out process of intellectualising everything, I haven’t kept to this commitment. It was an excuse, not a genuine reason. Day to day gratitudes do not need to be epic, life-changing revelations, they don’t need to actively shift my daily activities (but when they do it’s welcomed). Gratitude is the shift, to find reasons to be thankful and to notice beauty is the reward. Note to me: that’s all I have to say on the matter but remember to enjoy, not analyse and destroy.

This leads me onto my 25,000 into my novel… go me! I have to say, this is the most committed relationship I have ever been in. Seriously, this commitment to myself, to complete something that happens to take up more hours than I ever thought my concentration could handle, this is deep water for me.

I have shown very little commitment to myself in the past… forever. Ok, maybe not forever as I don’t know what forever feels like, lets say for a very long time, since I was a young adult at least. This commitment thing is not so easy to admit, as in the process I have shown little commitment to others. I have wanted freedom from myself, from my ways, my thoughts, my previous actions/reactions/circumstances. In my desperate attempts to detach from who I am as I wildly dream about the woman I think I should be, low and behold I have forgotten how to respect and commit to the woman who needs me this most, me. Also, the bitch of life is that all we say we don’t want, mysteriously (or not so mysteriously) appears, to piss us off even more. Yet it’s not really a bitch as what we think about, we invite into our lives. The words I don’t want is irrelevant, for thinking of what we lack, whatever it is we don’t want means we get… well basically we get more of the less. It’s simple yet why does this knowing slip so easily away when old habits creep back to snuggle into warm and familiar ‘crap me’ blankets.

‘This is who I am!’

Is it?

If something feels uncomfortable, if it’s a belief that doesn’t sit right, do we have to just accept it for who we are? Maybe we heard this pattern of thinking, or were told ‘this is just how it is’. We may have seen this played out in someone else’s life, believing it to be our truth too. Who knows, there are a million ways words and attitudes sneak into our psyche but we know when something doesn’t feel right. Blaming is pointless as no matter where it came from, the words/actions/attitudes are now within us and so it’s our responsibility to do something about it.

I didn’t even think about my attitude to commitment. It’s only as I sat this morning wondering why I feel a little isolated. Truth is, I have isolated myself. I have distanced myself from people, places, my dreams even as I didn’t have the will to commit. It was no good to think ‘I’ll make more of an effort with others’ as this soon subsides. The work is within and to grow is to nourish our own roots. There are many reasons why we self-sabotage and I know no-one who doesn’t hurt themselves by their own doing at times but to blame and get frustrated at our behaviours only gets us so far (no-where).

So I am committing to getting curious. I am committing to asking more questions but releasing the need for answers as mostly it is outside of our comprehension that we find understanding. Once the question is planted, the answer will grow.

This novel is so much more than the book itself, the process is like a magnet, drawing buried weights to the surface. Burying again doesn’t seem to be an option (damn it), like the soil is now full of new seeds, there’s no room for the old. I am committing myself to this book, for no other reason than to thrive within the relationship I am building with me, the words and all the medicine that soars in-between.

p.s. Yes, I have just written another ‘revelation’ gratitude entry but I am extending this commitment to my daily practice of giving thanks so tomorrow it could be an entry about warm socks or apple juice, who knows!

p.p.s. I am eternally grateful for warm socks and apple juice 🙂

As They Pulse

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Amongst the midst of thinking

I stumble upon shallow water

Where fishes pray

Slowly planning their descent. One day

I walk on broken shell

And kick the sandy bed

Grain filled mist dances

Passing by my bloody toes

Red turns to pink. To nothing

I think to numb

But the salt, the salt eases the pain

Turtles bury themselves

Hiding from careless pace

So I stop

Forgetting where I came from

Inhaling the horizon

Exhaling the days I hated these hands

That sway in the sea

Ripples circle the whole of me

And my heart listens to the clams

As they pulse

And water rises

My hair flirts with the algae

Entwining under the setting sun

I wonder how I thought

How thinking goes. Gone

And my heart listens to the clams

As they pulse

And I pulse too

Me, delicious?

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What if

I forget how to breathe

One day my lungs pack up

And I freeze

For longer than a minute

An hour

I die right there

And purple veins decorate marbled blood

Clots of dark, crumble

Hawks hover above

Liquid pink drenches the earth

And twigs played by bones

Settle alone

Waiting for the squirrel to collect

What if

All I knew of myself

When painted lips pout in the morning

As I decide by the light of the mirror

My worth

Was gone in a flash

Ground down to feed the worms

Every inch of me

Nourishes another

So what if

Before I die

I decide to be delicious

Before the hawks and the squirrels and the worms

Enjoy me

I’ll make sure to enjoy myself first

No More Talk

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Soft notes

Damming the rush

Patient appreciation

Saves me

Yet still I  wait, hopeful

Forward thinking the expected

But the expected never comes

The train pulls in too late

Or early

Who knows, and will I care when timeless souls greet mine?

Scolding players, we’ve crossed paths

I’ve met many who know better

I’ve known better than many too

But common ground rests where really we know nothing at all

Warm intentions spoken aloud on cold mornings

Disappearing into the fog

So no more talk

To light up is the only way to see

Foraging my own seeds

Lost, yet full of purpose

This may be the most powerful way to live.

Lonely

I had not known the way to go

To where the lonely feed

For all along the slanted paths

I’d felt no calling need

But now I ache in fallen pits

As lonely do I feel

The nights too long to praise the sun

So moonlight I now steal

And in reflections I can see

A woman breaking time

For walls I’ve built too high to meet

A soul to walk with mine

And in such thoughts I’d pray to move

The cycle that needs be

As what’s to come I know not of

So wait must I to see.

Perfectly Not

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Imperfections

My armour

Bullseye to my blade

Imbedding deep

For pains I weep

Hungry teeth skewer muscle

My teeth

Because comparisons hurt

Blood stained spit, trickles

Wiped away by fingers ashamed

My skin welded to bone

Flames I turned upon myself

Ash caught by earth

Onto layers of prayer

Spoken by our grandmothers, for saviour

Yet still we cry

Generations silenced by promises

Morphing contractions, nothing changes

Woman whipped by ‘rear of the year’

Tits out

Swollen perfections

And stretched ideals

Suck on what you see

But so much more are we

Fresh eyes

Curious cries

Birthed from woman

And fierce love

Scares many

So imperfections

Are my sweet spot

To love

Loving what be

Saves from shame

The dampening weapon

When really

Imperfection has no form

No right or wrong

No weak or strong

Only the human

Being as best they can

The woman, the man

So my imperfections

 

Once my armour to blame

No more

No point to score

I am beautiful

No blame or shame for that.