Going Berserk for The Snæfellsnes Peninsula

The Snæfellsnes Peninsula is a region in western Iceland known for its dramatic landscapes.

A break in the clouds at Ytri-Tunga- a seal watching place. I saw no seals!

At its western tip, Snæfellsjökull National Park is dominated by Snæfellsjökull Volcano, which is topped by a glacier. Today this was hidden in cloud.

Arnarstapi

Arnarstapi is a picturesque fishing village on the southern side of the Snaefellsnes peninsula. It’s dominated by a stunning coastline of natural formations.

Arnarstapi

Dramatic coastline, shaped by centuries of volcanic activity and relentless ocean waves, is lined with towering basalt cliffs, natural arches, and sea caves that shelter a variety of seabirds, so says the Guide of Iceland and I cannot disagree. Being here and walking the trail, I finally felt as if I’d arrived. Settled into Iceland, in this body, in this moment.

Arnarstapi

Following the peninsula along we reached through lava fields the black-pebble Djúpalónssandur Beach.

Djúpalónssandur
Djúpalónssandur

The roar of the ocean and the power and the spray. It was magical. It was all consuming and I just wanted more. The rain was battering me on the wind and the water was getting closer to my feet. It was cold and wet and windy and wonderful. It was overpowering and exhilarating.

Kirkjufell

Final major stop was at Kirkjufell. Kirkjufell is a 463 m high hill on the north coast of Iceland’s Snæfellsnes peninsula, near the town of Grundarfjörður. Seen in Game of Thrones and called the “arrowhead mountain”, this was impressive and bold. Especially when playing background to the nearby Kirkjufellsfoss Waterfall. Beautiful.

Berserkjahraun, or the Berserks’ Lava Field, apparently, if you believe the stories.

Berserkjahraun, or the Berserks’ Lava Field, a story from the Eyrbyggja Saga. According to the saga, two Swedish berserkers cleared a path through the lava field, but were later killed by a local leader. He wore them out first in order to kill them. Strategy.

I don’t hold to the negative connotations of going berserk. However, I do lose all control when it comes to the Icelandic landscape. It floors me every time.

A May of Healing

It makes a difference when we’ve got the light. And it’s warm with it.

I’m in a three day streak of getting into the sea, straight after the school run. The tide has been in too. Which I love.

I love it when the bay is full to the brim with sea. I don’t have to walk far before I meet the water.

I give thanks when I greet the sea. Because she’s always there for me. Not judging me. Not rejecting me. Just welcoming me.

In the past, the sea has healed me again and again. The first time of any significance was when I miscarried our second child, back in 2009. We moved to the coast soon after as I needed to heal.

And to be healed is not a one time thing. Healing is a life long process. Sometimes I’m locked into my healing journey and sometimes I veer off course and need something or someone to remind me to get back into the practice. The practice of healing.

So with a new month comes a renewal. And this is the time of year to renew. Spring is well and truly with us now. And the blossom may be receding and just pink petals on the wind, or white even. But I’m catching hints of bluebells.

So my list of habits and actions to lean into for a May of Healing includes:

  1. A high protein breakfast.
  2. Making sure I get 8+ hours of sleep each night. Priority!
  3. Getting lost in a few good books.
  4. Walking each day. Getting outside into the light.
  5. Getting into the sea as often as possible, at home and away.
  6. Visual journaling daily.
  7. Getting back into painting for pleasure. To hell with the results.
  8. Increasing my fruit and veg intake.
  9. Increasing my water intake. At least 2litres a day.
  10. Continue on my strength training journey.
  11. Insight timer daily.
  12. Reconnecting with friends and family I haven’t talked to for a while.
  13. Solo dates like to the cinema or a museum. Or a delicious meal out for one!
  14. Acquire some new plant friends.
  15. Create a zine or two.
  16. Plan the summer holidays for Miss Ella and me. And also solo me!
  17. Keep traveling for pleasure and joy instead of work commitments and responsibilities.
  18. Write someone a letter.
  19. Dance party, music consumption daily.
  20. Rest. Rest. Rest.

Stretching Into The Light, Into The Blossom

From about mid November 2024, I took myself off on a self-directed hibernation.
I might have had to do some work in a school in December but mostly from then until today, the end of March, I’ve been resting. I withdrew from the world of responsibilities and work to take some much needed alone time. I went within, into the darkness and stillness. And now as I attempt to resurface and re-engage with the world, with great difficulty I may add, I’m taking this time to reflect on this practice and process of disappearing from the world for months on end.

Firstly, I think everyone should do it. And I don’t like using ‘should’ but here I’m going to make an exception. I know it’s a privilege to take time out of work and from seeking money for a certain period of time, and I recognise that, but wouldn’t it be a better world for everyone and even living thing, if we all could hit that stop button and rest?

For me through this retreat practice, everything is put into perspective. I give myself the time and space to reflect and process all the shit thats happening in this world. And I may not come back with the solutions but I do come back with an expanded capacity for joy and grace instead of just the feelings of overwhelm and defeat.

My time away has been good for the soul because I’ve been able to remember and reclaim my body-soul-spirit connection. I’ve been able to reclaim my connection to self, nature and other people. I’m been able to come home to myself and work out, gently, what is important to myself. What are my values and morals and am I living my life by them. If not then let’s recalibrate and get back on track. And I don’t mean the capitalist make as much money and the least connection and impact kind of track. I mean the track of being the best version of myself so I can show up for others in my family and community as the best version of myself for them.

I’ve taken this time away for me but at the same time, I hope as a role model. As an example to follow. Yes money is always going to be an issue. There is always not going to be enough to go around and to do the things I want to do or live the life I want to live. But at the same time, I can live more frugal. I can spend my money on experiences rather than on material stuff. And I can take the risk and say I’m not going to work or actively seek work for a few months while I rest, while I work on myself, while I {BE}.

Of course, my bank balance is screaming at the lack of money therein. Credit owed might be rising. And I could slip into panic mode and think I’ve got to get work, quick and fill the pot back up. But if I slipped right back into this panic mode and ran around like a chicken with no head, what would have been the point of the rest and withdrawal? All that calm and serenity and centred-ness that I’ve created over the last few months would have been for nothing. Gone in the blink of an eye, just like this time away seems to have passed.

This practice of rest and slowness, is part of my practice forever! There’s no switch that I switch back on to go back into work mode. I’m not a machine or a robot. I’m a living, breathing, feeling human being, even though there are some who have made me believe otherwise. I want and need to make sure that my life reflects my priorities and values and not just plays into the system which has never got my back.

As I’ve mentioned before, I writing about fugitivity. And for me part of using fugitivity as a method or practice, is me to take my body out of the systems of production and run. Run away from the rat race, run away from extraction and exploration and stop. Or linger in the time and space of rest and nothingness. Breathe deep and allow my body to come back to life. Allow my joyathon-o-meter to rise by feeding my soul with beauty which is there to see in the every day if only we allow ourselves that time and space to {BE}.

I haven’t just been sitting on my arse and doing nothing during this hibernation, even though a lot of the time was spent on doing nothing, allowing myself to get bored and seeing how it feels and what comes up and seeing what are my go tos to stop feeling all the feels. This has been a period of getting to know myself again, which is difficult if you’re bouncing from one job to another, one project to another, where the aims and intentions are not in my control or even anything I’ve agreed to.

So yes day dreaming did enter the hibernation period. What also featured was reading and writing and walking. And sea swims and travel and alone time with nature. Home cooking, time with family and friends. Music and dancing and artwork and journalling. A lot of visual journalling. Nothing earth shattering but enough. Enough to make me realise that I’ve been running on empty, exhausted really and how harm was caused towards me and how I needed to heal.

Yes if anything, this time has been a time of healing. And this is an on-going process but I feel better equipped now to continue the healing journey.

So April is around the corner and I’ve really not got a lot of work on still. As I made the decision not to actively seek work while in hibernation also. Why take the time away from work commitments and then spend that time searching for work, applying here there and everywhere and getting stressed about finding work for my return?
What nonsense is that.

So yes I might officially end my hibernation today, but I know I still have time for me as the work commitments are few and far between. But not stressing about the things I can’t control but will focus on the things I can control. I might start to gear up to putting our feelers for work but not full throttle. Not nice, don’t like. Again, I’m not going to waste this time away on moving out of zero effort into the max.

I’m slowly easing out of my bear cave. I’m stretching slowly, reaching for the sky. Scratching my back against a tree trunk, and then I seat back down and admire the cherry blossom coming into bloom. I’m taking the time to thank Mother Earth for being with me and allowing me to rest and to resurface when I’m good and ready. I’m grateful for this time away. And I’m grateful to be able to return in my full glory as me.

Not really sure when the moment of fear took hold but maybe it was after some deep conditioning

I developed a fear of taking up space in my own body.

I wish I could pinpoint the day, the moment that this fear took over my life.

Maybe it was after another beating from my dad for asking why?

Maybe it was after another meal where I didn’t like the food but was forced to eat it?

Maybe it was after my dad’s expected death and the silence that followed?

Maybe it was after another day at school of fighting the bullies who called me a fat black cow?

Maybe it was after those suggestions from my family to stop eating chips and bread and to eat something better?

Maybe it was after my ‘so-called’ school friends laughed and teased me because when I jumped my boobs jumped too?

Maybe it was after when I was still a girl I had a woman’s body that bled monthly?

Maybe it was after I walked down a street and a strange man leered at my body as something to have?

Maybe it was after I’d devoured my teen magazines and saw only white skinny girls getting the guys?

Maybe it was after we went roller skating and I couldn’t roller skate but spent time on my butt?

Maybe it was after that trip to Paris and the French guy I liked didn’t even look at me?

Maybe it was after I’d convinced myself that being smaller and whiter inside would help me to be smaller and whiter outside?

Staying Safe

I have a love/ hate relationship with my body.

Usually I’m in the hate spectrum. I’ve internalised beliefs about the Black woman’s body that are oppressive and ugly that have been passed down through generation and generation.

I can’t remember a time that I haven’t felt that my body didn’t fit. That my body was too big, too fat, too Black. I’ve learned how to keep myself small, keep myself invisible( even while being hypervisible), keep myself safe.

Those moments when I’ve felt glory being within my body have been few and far between. And when I’ve got to that point of accepting my body, accepting myself, I can’t remember how I got there to get back there now.

My mum was thin once. But most of my life I remember her as being overweight. I saw pictures of her slim and I asked her what happened. Even that question is loaded and judgmental and wrong.

She said when she had lost all the weight she wasn’t well and she wasn’t happy. She said she was happier being fat. I didn’t ask any further questions probably because I didn’t like her answer.

I’m pondering this now, here. Wondering and wandering around my body.

Pandemic Food Ways :: A Little Sweet Treat

This piece was originally published on Medium with Binderful back in 2020. I’m sharing this piece here because I was reminded that it existed over there when I made some crackers and jam this morning. It was good to revisit it. I share it with you now.

During these quarantined times with Covid-19, I’m trying to find way to support my well-being. I’m making sure I take the time and space to tune into my needs and wants, beside those of my family. I’m finding joy and memories in my day when I make solitude. This happens, usually in the morning, when I make my breakfast. It’s nothing fancy either. Its crackers and jam and black decaf coffee. The plain taste of the hard crackers against the sweet soft stickiness of raspberry jam (no seeds) is divine. This is a little sweet treat and takes me back to two moments in time.

The first is childhood. Crackers and jam was weekend breakfast when I was a kid. Dad would bring it to our bedroom, my sister and me, and we were allowed to eat them in bed. Crackers and jam is a poor man’s breakfast. But when I ate them as a child, I felt rich. I felt like a princess. I felt loved. Especially because my dad made it. A harsh Trinidadian man who ruled us with beats but who I idolised and always wanted to love me more. These Saturday mornings, tucked up in bed, I felt cosy and safe. As children most of our days were spent inside, with our imaginations and Enid Blyton. And this felt good. Now with my daughter, there isn’t any Enid Blyton more like David Walliams, but there‘s a generous amount of storytelling as we stay safe indoors. Learning from my childhood, when I received anger and beats for questioning why, our kids have been brought up wonder out loud and to receive a reason or answer rather than that feeling of saying or doing something wrong.

The second memory around crackers and jam takes me back to my first artist residency in Iceland. This would be my second time back to the island but the first time remaining in place, the remote Westfjords, for two weeks. Surrounded by white upon white. With the cold biting at all exposed flesh, I searched for any familiar signs, in the landscape, because I felt lost and adrift. I didn’t know why or what I was doing miles away from home, alone, in residence pretending to be an artist. I remember making crackers and jam and coffee one morning, knee deep in my unhinged being and remembering who I was. Memories came back about being a little girl craving love and safety and comfort. And how even though, I’d a harsh upbringing, in some respects, I know discipline and perseverance and self-preservation were forged then.

I suppose this mirrors how I feel and be now, in these uncertain times, and how making crackers and jam satisfies these urges and needs and fuels my desire to survive and thrive.

The Core Parts Of Me

Growing up, and I still feel as if I’m growing up or at least progressing in this process of becoming, but yes growing up, I constantly rejected core parts of myself in order to fit in, in order to be accepted and loved. There was also an element of protection too. Growing up I knew or sensssd that being too wild and too unresostrcted and out there could bring trouble my way. Be looked up, be beaten up, be killed.

But I’m not prepared to repress, reject core parts of myself anymore. I don’t do it anymore because all it does it hurt me and stops me living my life on my own terms. Living y life to it’s fullest potential because I’m focused on the fear and rejection instead.

It has taken years and practice for me to take down the internal prejudices against myself. They might have been fortification constructed for protection and rejection but they did not serve me then and certainly don’t serve me now. Yeah I still protect myself from harm. I think I got complacent recently with the sea and also within the recent counselling skills session, but I’m practicing this from a place of love, self-love rather than self-hate and disgust. And the feelings are totally different.

Noticeboard – What’s happening today?

Morning routine done. Still completing my rituals before I greet the world.

Decided to add 2 more to the list so I can complete some stuff I want and don’t want to do this month.

One is to continue to add to my wall for my fugitivity essay. Two, tackle one task per day for completion of my counselling skills course.

Guess which task is the one I don’t want to do?

Completed reading the ebook, In the Cut by Susanna Moore. And I’m not going to spoil it for you but I just didn’t see the ending coming. I was reading this after reading an article with Susanna Moore speaking with Allison P. Davis and it was exploring writing about sex and murder. Somethings I’m considering writing about. So I thought I better read the novel. Let’s just say it’s an interesting read and I think I was expecting more sex! Call me greedy!

Went out for a walk and was remembering my drive home yesterday in the sunshine. Reminded of how being with Kiwi, and our on adventures is my happy place. More!

Returned home and forgot to post some stuff so had to go back out. And Tynemouth is heaving today because the sun is out and it’s the weekend and it’s station market day. I tend to avoid the crowds at the coast and head in the opposite direction but today I did not mind the people as I felt like I belonged.

Not belonged here. But belonged within my body.

There’s a difference.

Consistency

Sitges

This is my final day in Barcelona. Well Spain, as I took a trip yesterday southwest along the coast to Sitges and stayed.

This is the Mediterranean Sea and I got in it this morning. It wasn’t planned as I didn’t bring a swimming costume on my travel. Travelling light I was. . So it was a very fetching set of underwear that saw me right. Who knew!

Not as cold as the North Sea but still fresh. But oh so clear. Glass clear. It was just what my body needed . Now I’m chilled in a good way. Bones, and sinew relaxed, grateful for this time away with myself.

I thought I would have written more here on the blog while away but I haven’t. Saving my reflections for after rather than during. Really being present while here has been my focus. And it’s felt LUSH.

I’m proud of my consistency as I’ve still kept up with my morning routine while here as well as completing a whole month of posting on my blog for January.

Another consistent habit/ practice for January and hopefully beyond, has been honouring my body. Listening to her and giving her what she needs and desires. This is new as before it’s been denial and depriving and depreciating.

Tiger Chai and Cinnamon Roll, yummy!!!

2025 had seen, no felt, a change with my relationship will my body. I’m looking forward to exploring this even more during February. The month of love!