Rest is important to me after a lifetime of hustling and running on empty to be the most productive person alive. All to be loved . All to be accepted. All to be successful on somebody else’s terms.
Not anymore. Nine years ago my eyes were forced open to the system. This grind culture. White Supremacy Culture. This only getting your worth from what you do rather than who you be.
No I no longer buy into that crap.
Rest is paramount for me these days as I’ve realised I cannot fulfil all things I want to do in my pursuit of joy and purpose if I do not take my right amount of rest. If I do not stop and smell the roses and {BE}.
This summer I’m taking an extended rest and the Goddess has come visiting as a result.
The Goddess will be showing up this summer because she can. Because she’s ready. Because she has further things to teach me.
As I was saying over in the introduction to the recent episode released from The Earth Sea Love Podcast, apart from the year flying by, May was the month that kicked my butt. It’s officially going down as the worst month of 2023, so far for me. But hey I’m still here to tell the tale and I’m grateful for that.
I have to give some credit to still being here and getting through the trenches down to my walking practice of May. I completed the Mamathon as hosted by Girltrek and clocked up 53 miles. Of course I did more walking than that in May but these are the miles that were recorded with my Garmin watch. Just trying to keep everything recorded so I knew when I hit the miles, I knew I was banking them towards this challenge.
I’m so glad I took up this task. I started it with Miss Ella and finished it with Miss Ella yesterday afternoon. Even though she was full of cold she joined me to mark the occasion. I also went over on my right foot again. Same place / same injury as the one that stopped me completing the West Highland Way last year. But I’ve been icing and elevating it as well as walking on it today. A bit swollen and bruised but okay to walk on.
And I’m pleased about that as I would be most upset if I was out of action again just when I feel as if I’ve gotten into some kind of walking routine. Girltrek are running their Black History Bootcamp podcast this year again, which entails 21 days of meditations of Black stories are shared. So I’m just gonna keep on walking in June to the sounds of this podcast and clock up some more miles.
The West Highland Way is on again this year. Birthday week with dear friend, Alex, we’re walking the way together. More details to follow. Already excited about completing it. See what I did there? The power of positive energy. It usually get’s me through. Got me through May. Thank you very much.
May 2023, will go down as the month that kicked my butt. Hard.
On so many fronts, and with many changes and challenges. Maybe I’m being melodramatic in the scheme of things. In the scheme of things, my life and challenges are small and insignificant. But it’s my life. And hell if I don’t pay attention to it. {BE} in it. Present.
I’m glad May is over and I have that beginning of a new month kind of excited vibe. But before I jump into June, I’d like to give thanks for what May has delivered to my door. The good and the bad. As I believe, even the bad, difficulties and pains, turn out to be blessings later on down the line. I just have to keep the faith and trust that all will be revealed in time.
For now I’m grateful for:
the late night walks with the sun just going down and a chill in the air.
the pleasant company of Miss Ella when she’s in a good mood! And also when she’s not as she still makes me laugh!
the bonds of friendship with people near and far, for long and short periods of time.
the opportunity to share my words with other people.
the opportunity to share my artworks with other people
the success of applications submitted.
the rejections of applications submitted as they always give me the opportunity to reflect and refocus.
the promise of a restful summer.
the green plants that keep me company and lift my mood.
the morning black coffee and dark brown sugar.
the comfort of hot noodles.
the roof above my head for now.
icepacks, and comfy sofas, YouTube content and music.
humour, wherever it comes from.
my body, big or small, young and old, she has always been there for me.
late night conversations.
single malt whiskey.
the dawn chorus.
workshops and readings facilitated by others that really support my creative practice.
morning pages, visual journaling and words/ images/collage.
an endless supply of brown moving boxes and tape.
selling, donating, giving books away and feeling lighter in the process.
In the dream, he comes back to me, whole and young.
He was always young in my eyes. When I used to ask him at each birthday how old he was, Daddy would answer, 45.
He was always 45 in all the years I knew him. All the years I was living, he was dying.
In the replaying of images, I play it differently.
I keep my distance until he asks for me to bring his slippers or newspaper. I offer them with bowed head. I don’t throw them at him as I used to. Escaping his rage, escaping the beats.
I keep my distance, but I want to be close to him. To hold him. To feel his love for me. Then and now, still needed after so many years gone.
To serve, he brought me up, to serve. Instead of getting the vacuum clearer out, he had us on the floor picking up the bits of fluff and crumbs. To hear his pride at a job well done was enough.
When I enter the chapel of rest, it’s like I’m floating on air, light as the flowing curtains concealing a prize. I see him now, as then …
he‘a surrounded by gold satin, his mahogany black skin shines, relaxed and unlined, sea-black lips wave-curled and still.
He looks younger than 45. Even though the plaque on the coffin lid reads 1920 -1981 – he was 61. And the time he was dying. I was living.
I totally forgot yesterday, My head was down as I concentrate on my essay I’m writing. But today I remember. And I’ve signed up. The Rise Up Rooted Symposium is live. Check out the schedule for the free virtual symposium about about nature, connection and rewinding.
My conversation is live tomorrow then I share about my relationship with the sea and the healing properties. But there are some ready to be watched now. It’s free to join. Just add your emails and start watching. You can upgrade to an all access pass which means you get to watch all the videos in your own time and pace. I’ll get a percentage of the fee. But no pressure. Watch for free and tell me what you think.
“Cut, Torn & Mended is an online exhibition which celebrates the contributions of (m)others to the collage community. With a range of different styles and techniques, this exhibition allows us to explore the diverse ways in which contemporary artists use collage in their practices. With many of the artworks for sale at affordable prices, it is a wonderful way to add to your collection and support these wonderful artists to continue making.” Lauren McLaughlin, Founding Director.
To accompany the exhibition is a limited edition Cut, Torn & Mended Zine. A5 (210 x 148mm) Full colour zine, 42 pages, perfect bound with laminated silk cover.
Each zine includes an A3 full colour cut-out sheet so you can make a collage inspired by the exhibition!
Pre-order your copy before 21st May and get 20% off with the code COLLAGE20. You’ll get it for £8 instead of £10.
There are 30 artists featured in the exhibition. My piece is within the Mended section. The artists include:
Adele Annett, Amy Whiten, Alexa Mazzarello, Alexandra Kiss, Ashley Fotheringham, Beverley Hood, Diana Salomon, Ellie Shipman, Emily YCL, Jan Ferguson, Jennifer Milarski-Stermsek, Jessie McNeil, Jodie house, Kate Cameron Reid, Kate Marsden, Kathryn Rodrigues, Kim Hopson, Kirsty Whiten, Lauren, Evans, Lynn Murphy, Megan Jacobs, Montserrat Serra Nonell, Rebecca Clouâtre, Sally Butcher, Sana Burney, Sarah Shotts, Sharon Lee Hart, Sheree Mack, Twiggy Boyer, Yagama.
Living Wild Studios 