authenticsheshe
Monday Morning Blues
After a weekend of play and a disruptive night of sleep, Monday dawned eventually bright. But my energy levels were low. I could have clung on to some Monday blues if I allowed myself to as that would have been easier. It would have been so easy to not do the school run and stay in bed. Why is it you can finally sleep deeply after not being able to sleep all night, just when it’s time to get up? That bugs me that.
Anyway in the process and progress of getting the kid ready for school and straightening the house, my self kicked in and thought I needed to do something to shift the funk. To shift my energy into the light.
School run down and then down into the bay for a quick dip in the sea. The sun was shimmering on the dark metallic waves. Calm. But my nerve endings and flesh and skin and bones were screaming as I entered the sea. The cold bitter and painful. But my mind was alive and sharp and grateful. I was now awake and smiling.
Add to this, once I reached home, a quick change into my running gear. And this was major for me. I haven’t been able to run for a few months now, especially after my operation. I had it on my list to start in the new year, but fear has been holding me back. The fear of not so much the pain of running. But the fear that the pain might stop me from running consistently and far from now on.
It was like starting from zero again. Couch to 5K was my training of choice and off I went with the first run of week 1. Every step I took, I was conscious of my back but it made sure that I focused on my posture as this could make or break this habit. So I want to start as I mean to go on with the right posture that supports my back which means engaging and strengthening my core. I like the sound of that.
So moving into Monday afternoon, I still feel tired after little sleep last night but I also feel proud of myself after conquering a number of fears today by recognising them, acknowledging them and then doing the thing anyway.
Looking forward to a better sleep tonight. I think I deserve it.
Claiming Space
It’s just one of those days …
Dear Strong Black Woman
I finally got around to buying Jennifer Sterling’s book, Dear Strong Black Woman: Letters of nourishment and reflection from one strong black woman to another. And beginning to read it.
I think I’ve been reluctant to read it as I was thinking it wouldn’t tell me anything new. And I think I was also not in the right place to face it, to face a big chunk of harsh reality.
I know what it’s like being a black woman in a predominately white world. In a world where my worth is questioned and examined daily and always come back wanting.
I’m a strong black woman and have had to become this way or live this stereotype for good reason. For survival. And being vulnerable and showing my weakness or even asking for help has been for decades non-negotiable. Not happening.
But I was wrong. This slim but powerful book is just what I need right now. As it speaks to my soul, it speaks to my suffering. It legitimatises my experiences and struggles. It’s a witness and a testimony to my existence. And I thank Jennifer for writing these letters to me and to other strong black women like me.
As hard as some of these letters are to read, they are the balm I need to keep moving through this world, strong but also vulnerable, open hearted and beautiful.
Why do I blog?
I’ve lost count of how many years I’ve been blogging now. I started out on blogger.com and created a blog that documented my creativity on a daily basis. I saw this as a practice, as way of developing my craft and to connect with others. That was the main reason in the beginning to blog and I don’t see it changing now.
I blog because it feels like I’m having a conversation with myself and with some one I’m really close to, a friend, at the same time. I blog to make sense of this life I live and the world I live in. I blog to share how I see the world at any given moment. I blog to communicate the highs and the lows. I blog to raise questions and enjoy seeking the answers.
There are times that I’ve fallen out of love with blogging. Times when I can’t be arsed to formulate a sentence never mind a coherent blogpost. But these times don’t last long and are far between.
Blogging is a habit and a good one at that. Not one that I need to kick but one I need to embrace more. Hence this #100daysproject challenge of blogging for a 100 days straight. I want to get back into that sweet spot of creating blog post, creating great content that support me on my quest of becoming at the same time as connecting with you.
Please let me know if it’s working. Or not!
Do you wanna know a secret?
Do you wanna know a secret?
Yes I thought that might get your attention. I’m willing to share my dirty little secret if you’re willing to listen?
Okay. Here goes.
I love Nordic Noir. There. It’s out now and I feel a whole heap better.
When I want to chill and relax and switch off, I switch on a Scandinavian crime drama or pick up a novel in the same genre.
There’s something about the landscapes that act as a backdrop for the crime, usually a grizzly murder, that holds my attention and enchants me. I know. Sick right! All these people getting bumped off and there’s blood and guts everywhere and I’m mesmerised by the ice and snow and the mountains that set the scene.
This genre is quality storytelling as well and solid characterisation and suspense and tension too.
I can binge watch a whole series or read a whole book in a evening ( and into early morning) when I get into a certain groove and I’m not ashamed to tell you. At the moment I’ve been making my way through Walter Presents series on All 4. Last night was Rebecka Martinsson: Arctic Murders. A Stockholm lawyer who returns to her hometown after a childhood friend’s death. And isn’t her home town remote, icy and full is lakes and mountains? Beautiful.
I know it’s pure escapism but from time to time it’s good for me, or anyone really, to suspend reality and slip into another, usually distant from the norm, world. I do believe it supports me in my day to day living and striving and thriving. A little sanctuary of make believe. I highly recommend it, I do.
Why it’s important to share your practice
Just before Christmas, I sent out a Studio Note to my subscribers detailing what I’d been getting up to while recovery from spinal surgery. For some reason, I hit a really rich creative spot and I was making anything and everything.
Where I captured my adventure was in my visual journal. And yes this is mostly my private and safe space but I also think it’s important to share glimpses into this space. Maybe it will inspire others to get creative and carve out their own sacred space. I know through this sharing, it somehow acknowledges and recognises me and my practice and what I’m trying to do over here. It definitely makes me more open.
Within that Studio Note, I sent out an exclusive peek into my journal for my subscribers. I’m not ready to share it here.
If you want to make sure you get the exclusives sign up to Studio Notes now and enjoy being a subscriber to Living Wild Studios. There’s freebies involved.
A Love Letter to the Sea
Oh my. I have missed you. My life. I didn’t know how much until I re-entered you again this morning at first light.
My soul began to hum again and then began to sing once more. I’d almost forgotten what she sounded like. I’d almost forgotten myself.
There was colour in my life but not technicolour; fizzy, vibrate reds and oranges and yellows and turquoise. These singing colours have been missing until this morning. Thank you.
I do feel cleansed and purified and detoxed and lighter. My skin is stinging. My feet are tingling. I might well lose the sensation in my toes but it was worth it to get back together with you.
You hold me captive but not against my will. You just keep coming at me. Light upon a crest of a wave. A constant. Washing a little bit more of me with each cold, cold caress. Until I can take no more. And I don’t mean I leave you. No. It means I need more of you, all of you. All over me. So I sink down and take you in, all over me. The pain and pleasure mingle together to escape into a deep guttural sigh. Relief and release. Joy definitely.
But also a sacredness which colours me with grace and gratitude and love.
I’ve never through of us together as a spiritual experience. But this is the most holiest of communions for me. Nothing else compares to this, not even sex.
Here I can take you whenever I want or need. But this is not possession. There is no possession of you because you are wild and free. What it is is a surrender. Almost like praying. An appreciation and inspiration. A giving of thanks. An admiration. You are so beautiful to be with. With your dark seeping liquid, this morning like mercury, tomorrow maybe like glass.
You fill me up with love and goodness and joy. And it’s the kind of love, I want to share. It’s the kind of love from which patience and compassion flows freely. There are no obstacles, boulders in its path. It gushes this love. At times like a geyser and at others like a waterfall. Never ending, always flowing from source to sea.
Or should I say seas as you are never the same sea twice. And for which I am in awe as well as in deep appreciation.
I know I depend on you but I never knew how much until now. Until this moment. This time I come to you bruised and wounded and scared and without hope.You have renewed my hope. You have blessed me with you just being you.
I planned to be with you this morning and I made it happen. But you did all the work that needed to be done almost effortlessly. You made me whole again. You healed me. Thank you.
Living Wild Studios 