challenge
Present
Untitled
During my hiatus from social media, I’ve been enjoying some much needed ‘me-time’. ‘Me-time’ consists of long soaks in the bath, walks along the sea shore, cooking family meals, dreaming on paper as well as reading novels.
For some reason, I never seem to have the time to read for pleasure, unless I take time away from social media. Getting through the pile of books that are at the side of my bed just illustrates to me how much time I waste refreshing my twitter feed, pressing hearts on Instagram and commenting on stuff on Facebook
I know I need to find a way to have a much healthier relationship with these means of contact with the outside world, but as of yet I haven’t found a viable solution except from turning them off for weeks at a time.
It’s not an ideal situation, as I do miss the connection, contact and opportunities they present but I’m prepared to take this hit if it means I turn them off in order to hear my own voice again.
I do find social media very noisy at times and distracting. As well as enriching and inspiring. Still a work in progress I think; my relationship with the beast.
But one book that I’ve been engrossed in for the last couple of days is The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton. I’ve has my eye on this debut novel for a few months now, but haven’t managed to read it until now. And it’s such a good read.
It’s historical fiction and very poetic in it’s descriptions of people and places. Based in Amsterdam in 1687, it follows the progress of one family as they thrive through the trade routes opened up for merchant explorers. A new bride receives a cabinet sized replica of her new home as a wedding gift. Upset at first, she soon becomes involved in decorating this house through a mysterious miniaturist. This book weaves a magical spell as I’m drawn into this family’s world were secrets and lies are the currency of exchange as money and sugar takes a backseat.
If you can, read it, take a break from social media if you have to in order to do so. It’s well worth it!
Breathe ( and make time for yourself)
I picked up this new magazine by chance. Not sure what I was looking for. Maybe I was looking to ‘breathe’, to gain some space in my day, in my life.
I’ve sworn off all those glossy women’s magazines, those that carry the images of perfection; white skinny beautiful women. The money I must have spent on them, trying to fit the ideal, and knowing fine well that I’d never would. But that didn’t stop me buying into the construction.
It didn’t seem to bother me that I never saw women in there that looked like me. Or did it?
As I also went through a phase of buying Pride Magazine, Oprah, Ebony to see black women in magazines.
But they still didn’t look like me, as they were still skinny, well styled and looked like they had their lives all together, nice and sweet.
I suppose when I buy magazines now, like this one, I am still trying to find myself, to better myself, but from the inside out.
I am working on my soul, my spirit, my true self when I pick up a magazine like Breathe because I am looking to take care of myself by taking the time to slow down, to try yoga ( again), to start back up with my gratitude journal etc. Magazines like this make me think, make me assess what I am doing in terms of self-care, self-love and how am I working within this world to make it a better place?
I would highly recommend this magazine if you are looking to make time for yourself, for your true self.
Love Yourself Friday
Yes I know today isn’t Friday. But I want to share with you something that happened to me a few months ago which I am proud of.
I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Phoenix Rising Collective, for their Love Yourself First Friday.
The aim of this special feature is to shed light on various ways we as women are practicing self-care, making it a priority in our lives.
After a couple of years of being in the doldrums and not being able to look myself in the eyes in the mirror, I feel I’ve come a long way to the point of actively practicing self-love. Maybe going through situations and experiences that others might recognise and gain insight from by sharing this way.
The question that struck home the most was; Is there an obstacle or challenge that you’ve overcome that lead you to a deeper love for who you are? In answer to this question, for the first time, I revealed my dirty secret. And it felt good to finally speak out about it.
Here is my answer and read the rest of the interview here.
“What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would spin open.” -Muriel Rukeyer
There comes a time in everybody’s life when the unspeakable happens. To say it hasn’t happened or won’t happen to you is a lie. You’re kidding yourself. Believe me.
In May 2015, the unspeakable happened to me. There was a public shaming. My whole world fell apart the day I was accused of being a plagiarist on Facebook by a ‘so-called’ friend and fellow poet. He wrote that he’d found whole scale “borrowings” from other writers’ words, phrases, and structures within my latest collection of poetry. He said that he was just doing his duty for the poetry community by bringing it to everyone’s attention. What followed was what I chose to call a public lynching of me as a writer, poet and person. This was the unspeakable that happened to me. But funny enough, I am speaking about it here, as well as writing a creative non-fiction book about this whole experience. Everything I knew, all I was, how I thought myself to be was taken from me in that public posting. I issued an apology regarding my unintentional mistakes and withdrew from the public realm. At one point, death looked a very promising course of action, but I had my family and some supportive friends who helped me.
Within the Chakra system there is a heart center called Anahata Chakra. In Sanskrit, Anahata means “Unstruck.” For me this speaks to the resilient nature of the human heart. I believe, wholeheartedly, that there is a place within my heart that is absolutely unbreakable. Thank you Chris Maddox for this wisdom.
This experience did break my heart, stopped me from loving, and shut me down and out. However, there was a minute part that kept pulsing, kept the light on for me. Maybe it was my belief in self, my self-love that got me through each day.
Each day has not been wasted. I have taken this experience as a wake-up call, a wake-up to explore and claim my authenticity. Afterwards, I had nothing. I couldn’t even look myself in the face at one point. But writing my book and starting to take photographs of myself have supported me in my climb up. I can’t say climb ‘back’, because who or what I am becoming, I do not know. I have never met this woman. I do know that love and self-love, first and foremost, are at the center of this journey.
Out in the sun
I got up at about 5.00 am. Ella was calling. I ‘d had a rough night’s sleep. Couldn’t get off. Too many things, ‘worries’, running around my head. So up and down tending to Ella, was annoying just something else to add to my disturbed sleep. This went on until 5.38. I’m thinking this was a sign that I should be up and out in the world. So I put Ella into our bed and got dressed and out the door before I could think about how tired I was.
It was a lovely morning. The sun was up but still playing with colours as it graced the sea and rocks. I walked with a brisk pace, with purpose as it felt right to be up now and out, getting some exercise, starting my day with good intentions towards myself. I was out for 50 minutes. I got back and practiced yoga for 15 minutes. Then created a green smoothie for breakfast and settled down in my space to write my morning pages.
Before I knew it 2 hours had passed. This is an indication of how much time I need at the start of every day to come home to myself before I’m ready to start the rest of my day with others and responsibilities. I am being honest with myself here, and if I want to see out the rest of my day in a balanced, happier and truer way, I need to make sure that more times than not this is how I start my day, even if it means getting up at 5.30. It’s not a luxury but a necessity.
‘ The quality of light by which we scrutinize our lives has direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives. It is within this light that we form those ideas by which we pursue our magic and make it realized.’ Taken from Audre Lorde, ‘Poetry Is Not A Luxury.’
From the WSW vault: synchronicity
September 2015
“I was never that keen on The Commodores’ song, Easy Like A Sunday Morning. It got on my nerves. But now knee deep in family life, I can really embrace the sentiment.
It’s Sunday morning and after being up for what seems like hours, I’ve finally managed to sit down to some ‘me time’ with coffee, breakfast and journal. And that pisses me off.
Apart from being woken from 5.30am onwards by the little one who wanted to come into mum and dad’s bed. Then spending the next few hours trying to get some sleep with a child clinging around my neck like a little marsupial. Then it’s the constant chorus, Can we get up now?
Then when I get up with a struggle (far too early for a Sunday morning) there’s breakfast to be done, dishes to be cleared, washing to put in, clothes to put away. A whole multitude of tasks to do before I can sit down and savour a moment with coffee and thoughts. And that pisses me off.
Call it what you like, I’m calling it synchronicity, the experience of two or more events popping up in my life that seem to be related. The concept of this experience of things popping up a few times having a meaningful coincidence was described by Carl Jung back in the 1920s ( again someone who keeps popping up in my life lately, coincidence?)
Anyway, over the last couple of days there’s been three instances that I can recall where having a morning routine or even ritual was important as a means of starting your day in the right fetal. And to be honest, I’ve just skimmed read the email, the blogpost, and the pdf. document, just thinking this is not for me. Yeah right if only I had the time. But now I’m hellbent on making this my thing. Making the time.
I don’t want to go through the rest of my day pissed off. I don’t want to carry this resentment around with me for the rest of the day. I love my family but sometimes they can just get in the way. There I’ve said it.
So I need to create a way for me to ease into my day with my good head on, Worzel Gummidge style. Ease into my day with grace. Ease into my day being the authentic me.
So this Sunday, I make a pledge to myself to trial out a morning ritual. I prefer to use the word ‘ritual’ instead of routine because it adds an element of the sacred to the proceedings. And a morning ritual should be placed at that level of sacred because then it is honoured and protected. It’s going to be my time to gather my thoughts and feelings, listen to myself and honour the person I am before I bring this person out into the world, ready.
That’s it, I wasn’t ready this morning to meet the world but if I took the time each morning to be alone in silence and at peace with myself, I’d be ready to meet the world, best face forward.
So yes I’ll be spending the next couple of weeks getting up early, hey why not 5.30am, it seems a popular time these days! And spending this time before anyone else is up in my house to experience some quality time in communication with myself. I’m getting excited about it already.
Tune in again and find out how things are going. I hope to present a less pissed off version of myself here very soon. “
I’ve brought this posting out of the Wild Soul Woman’s vault because this need for a morning ritual has raised it’s head again. It’s the summer holidays, and my time is not my own. Before I know it the day is over, and I don’t feel as if I’ve given myself the time and space to breathe.
I’m also embarking on a more healthy and balanced lifestyle which needs commitment as well as the time and space to prepare and be organised for each day ahead. So what better time to do this if not before the day starts with it’s demands and responsibilities.
Ideally, I would like to use this quiet time to ease into the day. To continue my yoga practice. To start a mediation practice, undisturbed. To write and touch base with myself. To maybe get out into nature as the sun is rising. Have the sea all to myself. Also to have breakfast and plan the rest of the meals for me for the day. Spend the time looking after myself.
It sounds so selfish written here, but I know it is so very very needed and necessary, if I am going to succeed in this commitment to me and my health.
So yes, as I start this practice again tune in and see how I get on. Hopefully share more of my experiences and insights as they unfold.
Please wish me luck, thanks x
How to express gratitude
Gratitude is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as ‘The quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.’
I’ve been trying to keep a gratitude journal for most of 2016, off and on. I usually have this little book by the side of my bed so I can capture three things that I am grateful for after each day. I know when I do this practice religiously, that I feel better about the day that has passed and I feel better about my life in general. But why do I find it so hard to keep up with this practice. Five minutes out of my day shouldn’t be such a big stretch. But I have found more times than not that I have missed days, weeks, months of expressing gratitude in this little book.
I don’t usually struggle in expressing my emotions, thoughts and feelings. I’m not usually reluctant to let those people around me know how much I care for them and appreciate them. I am thankful that they are in my life, just as much as I am thankful for this life I am living, creating. But there seems to be some kind of disconnect between the way I feel about my life and expressing gratitude for this life I’m living.
I know that showing gratitude naturally makes me more thankful and grateful for my life. It’s like a knock on affect, or a natural fertilizer. Sprinkling thanks upon my life, means that it grows even more brighter and satisfying. But there is something somewhere inside me resisting this practice.
Maybe there is some thought, some feeling inside me that believes I have nothing to be grateful for or that thinks I do not deserve to have the life I have. Really when I say thank you to someone, even to myself, do I really mean it?
I’m not sure I know the answers to these questions. I just know that I need to get back to my little book at the side of my bed and just start practicing. Maybe then all will be revealed.
The Dark Goddess Collection
I’ve been on a journey. Some days it feels like to hell and back. Other days, it seems like I went dark. I ventured into the underworld to the Dark Goddess. I’m not sure what or who the Dark Goddess is but I do know she is within me. She has always been within me, but I have failed to acknowledge her, or feared to spend time with her.
Over the past year or so, I haven’t had a choice but spend time with the dark Goddess. Associated with death and avoided, She also holds the power for life, and transformation. Before this can occur there has to be death. The natural cycle of every thing is life, death, life cycle.
Anyway, I’m working through things at the moment, working to become more empowered from within and part of this journey does include embrace the Dark Goddess, my Dark Goddess. I chose to document this process and share my practices through poetry. The Dark Goddess is the focus of my next full collection of poetry. What shape this will take is left up in the air. I jut know in my core that this is the path I must take.
Here’s a poem that I think will fit well within this collection.
Forecast
I had a friend once, Fresh, who could talk to the weather.
She tuned into their energies or something.
She could persuade a seafret to stray away from the Scottish coast,
turn back a storm before its even thought about which Caribbean isle to hit next.
She had a certain way when she looked at you,
numbed you to the core,
yet when she smiled it was like the sun glistened
through her pores.
When it rained, she’d be out there for hours arguing
about which was the best colour of the rainbow.
And when a wind blew she came into her element.
She grew in size, raised her arms in welcome
blustered through the cracks of light and disappeared.
Living Wild Studios 