well-being

Going back to old skool

| Sheree

Sometimes when I get a download, I just have to grab the first bit of paper and pen I can see and write.

It feels as if I haven’t got the time and patience for my visual journaling practice and I’ve just got to get the words on the page.

Like short, sharp, frenzied sex after a drought, a stream of consciousness shit comes rolling out of me. From my body. Onto the page. Words here. Paint there.

And within this pile of words/ marks are glimmers, signs, clues for next steps, moves forward. Invitations.

I’m been resting, after a full on time of exams and work and in that resting time, I did nothing creative except breathe. Breathe a little deeper and longer. Fuller.

There are still times when I have that moment of dread, that I’ve forgotten something. That I should be doing something else instead of doing nothing.

I know time will heal the wound. Time will suture the skin over the rupture and this period will become a memory. A trace left in an ache running down my neck and shoulder. A dull tugging at my soul.

Anyway, I’m back here. And I’m not going to try and fill in the gaps. The gaps are important, these liminal spaces where possibility and potential are ripe.

I come back with plans to share a new series of posts which I’m loosely calling my ‘Summer Field Guide’. My plan to get intentional about the summer ahead ( or here already!) and offer myself space to play, get curious, dream and imagine. No pressure just {BEING} my inner child out loud.

I’m excited.

How do you want to experience summer? 

| Sheree

Today, 1st June, is the start of meteorological summer in the Northern Hemisphere. 21st June will bring the Summer Solstice: the longest day and solar peak of the year.

I’ve got a love/ hate relationship with summer. While teaching, I couldn’t wait to get to the summer holidays, time off from school. But those 6 weeks always went far too fast. Maybe because I was trying to squeeze in as much as I could, as I was high on freedom.

These last few years, summer has been a more laid back kind of affair. But there’s still, sometimes, an underling tension of not doing enough. Not making the most of my days. Not being out when I think I should be. Not being in when I feel I should be. Sometimes, there can be a frenzied, frazzled energy where rest and relaxation is more of a performance than actually restoring my energy and inspiration levels.

May, June, July, August. Months of summer. Rising energies to the peak. The peak can either be superdeluxe and flourishing or too heady, overloaded and burnt out.

How do I want to experience this summer?

After months of stress and worries, GCSE’s, hustling and financial insecurities, I’m fixing for my summer to be calm and chill. Wholesome and good for my soul. Slow warm mornings, times to linger over coffee and a book. Feasting my eyes on beauty and questions to satisfy the Creatrix in me.

Siestas, sea dips and lake swims. New foods and drinks lingering on my tongue and heart. Scents of rose and peonies reminding me of childhood, ripe strawberries and juicy honeydew melon, tingling in my mouth. Reminds me that, I can slow down and soften. I can stretch out like a cat in the sun, cloudgaze, feel the warmth ease out the tensions and pressures, knowing that nothing lasts forever.

And yet, I’m grateful for being here now, savouring the now. Summer. Summer. Summer ( that High School Musical kind of vibe!)

How do you want experience summer? 

psychic intrusions

| Sheree

For half of my life, I lived with someone who made me question my reality.

What do I mean by that?

I mean that within white supremacy culture and racial capitalism, I was primed to see myself as guilty and so discipline myself accordingly.

So then when I get into a relationship with someone who had their own mental issues and superiority complex and sense of entitlement, then I’m already primed to let whatever they do slide and make the (wrong) assumption that it is me who’s wrongs too demanding. Too needy. Too much. Too stupid.

I was primed and it was frequently reinforced that I knew nothing. That my reality was not reality and that if only I listened to the white man, let him lead me and control me then I would be saved. Or at least assimilated.

Psychic intrusions, near and far. The far is society itself. The colonial settler mindset that those who are colonised are already flawed, wrong, inferior and in need of assistance. In need of direction. In need of being controlled.

Psychic intrusions that meant that for most of my life I’ve been hating on self. Thinking and feeling less than. Thinking and feeling that I need to prove my worth. Prove my humanity.

Of course my eyes are open now.

Of course I’m taking back my psyche and coming out fighting.

I’m not playing this subordinate role anymore. I’m not playing stupid. Because that’s what it all was/is a charade. A falsehood.

I ain’t stupid.