Daily Playtime

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

Glencoe, January 2025

Yesterday within the snowy embrace of mountains I entered the River Etive.

For the past few days, with the wind and rain and now snow, this river has been swollen and running rapids. It’s the fullest I’ve ever seen it on my many visits to the area. I knew it would be stupid to enter the river during the storms. But I could hear its calls; its incessant chant to come and play.

With the snow falling over night on higher ground, a calming hush descended on the glen. The river was still swollen but took on a slower pace. This was my time to play.

I walked a mile or so up river to a point I’d sourced out would be easier to enter. A gentle slope leading in with stepping stones just off to the side of the major flow of water. A place to sit and rest and allow the water to course over, around and through me.

The walk raised my body temperature so by the time it came to strip down to my swimming costume a sheen of sweat layered my skin. But as soon as flesh hit the air it started to chill. But the outside air was nothing compared to the chill/ cold/ freeze of the water.

I didn’t hesitate as the longer it took to undressed the more time I stood a chilling. I mistakenly judged the temperature of the water on my first few steps in. Making the mistake of saying to myself, ‘This isn’t as cold as I thought it would be.’ Sometimes our minds can get in the way of our bodies. Creating excuses for not doing the things we love. Creating obstacles when really there are none except maybe our fears.

Of course my mind and body were both wrong but I didn’t realise my mistake until I was all the way in, sitting on the rocks, water flowing up to my waist, covering all of my lower body, hands, arms and elbows.

My life! The cold. The pain. The joy. I was laughing into the icy ripples of water. Laughing at the absurdity of it all and the thrill of it all as the cold instead of numbing me, electrified me through my body.

Thank god no one else was around to hear the screams or squeals or the colourful language. What was worse was I’d forgotten to put on my neoprene gloves. My hands were red raw. So I retreated to retrieve the gloves. This could have been my chance to stay out and get warm. But fool that I am, I squeeze my now wet and frozen hands into those gloves and walked right back into the flow. And this time I walked in on my hands so I was on my front. Spread out and immersed. This was me making sure everywhere, all of my body had been hit by the water. Had been hit by the cold. Had been brought back to life.

This is my playtime. Getting back into the flow of an activity that brings me joy. Swimming in the wild. Something I forget from time to time when I allow life to get in my way. Something I remember once I give myself the time and space and permission to slow down. It’s a practice. And so many variables feed into that practice but in the process so much joy and wisdom and clarity is achieved.

My Blissful List for April

1. My DryRobe – This is a must have for when I’m going on a sea visit. I just slip my cossie on underneath and I’m out the door. Sometimes if the sea is far out, I’ll wear this robe right up to the shoreline, snuggled into the furry lining, soaking up the last few ounces of warmth before I throw it off and dive into the cold North Sea. And then I know it’s waiting for me when I come out, to soak up the wet and keep off the wind and rain and get me all warmed up. This was a gift to me from me and it just keeps giving. I love my DryRobe hugs.

2. My footed mug. – It was a special red, hand planted one with birds from Anthropologie but I broke it the other day. I was mighty upset. Making do with this little beauty from Tesco’s for now. But hot coffee on repeat. Just the ritual of making it, popping the kettle, rinsing out the cafeteria and putting in two scoops of decaf coffee and pouring the water on and allowing it to brew. The smell in the kitchen, the rising steam. Small simple pleasures.

3. My turquoise plush blanket. – When I left my last teaching job they brought me a gift voucher for Debenhams as a goodbye gift. I took it, I think £30, and bought this comfort blanket as it was a luxury item and I felt I’d just gone through a few months of hell teaching full-time and deserved a little treat in my life. This blanket is super cosy and has been my hygge go to ever since then.

4. Books and more books. – Growing up I used to hoard books. I used to buy them thinking by just having them in my possession I would be intelligent and knowledgable. I now know I have to read the books to gain their insight and message. And this is what I love to do. Anywhere really. Sitting room, bedroom, the bath is a favourite. And I love my physical books but hells bells if I’m going somewhere and packing is tight, then Kindle books will do for me. I just get lost in books, and inspired and cheered up.

5. Paper and pens – Yes I like my fancy journals and fountain pens. But when it comes down to it, just give me any scrap of paper and a pencil and I’m happy. I can then create. Lists are my go to in times of trouble or doubt. If I can brain dump whatever I’m carrying around in my head and body onto that paper, I feel better in the process. I can get things organised, I can let down my load and walk away feeling lighter, calmer and happier.

What is your Bliss List for April? Give me 5 items or more. just follow your bliss and see what you come up with. What makes you happy? What makes you glow from the inside out?

years of marriage 

My husband, Alan and I have been together longer than I can remember, yet I’m still surprised by the turn of events, sometimes. At these points, I have to chuckle.
Alan, annoyed,  has said that I mine our lives for writing material but I do believe it’s not just my story to tell, so I do shy away from writing about our marriage as it is, while in the thick of things.
This relationship, when two individuals come together into a partnership, does play a significant part in my life and to not explore and reflect upon it in within my writing is denying a part of myself. As well as living a lie, as believe it or not, marriageland is not all hunky dorky.

During the years we’ve been together, Alan and I have experienced the rough with the smooth. They say a couple’s relationship changes when children come along. And that much is true. There’s had to be a lot more understanding and communication and patience. And sometimes it hasn’t always been there. 

I’m not offering marriage guidance here as I’m not an expert is marritable bliss. I only know what works and doesn’t work for me/us. So we’re still in the thick of moving house. This follows on the back of months of ill health, cancer treatment and hospital visits. You don’t realise the calm within your day to day until it is disrupted. You don’t realise the love and companionship and trust within your relationship until it has disappeared.
This isn’t a post about Alan and I spliting up, far from it. But it is a post about holding on and appreciating what you have when you have it. It’s obvious but sometimes we fail to acknowledge it, fail to act upon it, fail to live it. 

As we settle into our new home, the time and space has arisen to speak my needs and concerns to Alan as well as to check in with him about his needs and concerns. We’re still part of this dance, growing all the time as individuals and together. But it never ceases to amaze me as you hold a crystal up to the light the myriad of shapes and colours and delights that are revealed.