This week was back to school week but things could have been worse. A cold weather front has hit the UK. Yes it’s cold up North but it could have been worse. At least we’ve had the light. And it’s remained dry even if each morning the windscreen has been frozen.
I’m grateful because I’ve had the privilege of spending quality time with Miss Ella and supporting her on her journey to her GCSE mock examinations. She’s capable, she just needs to believe in herself more. And that’s where I can come in, for sure.
Cullercoats Bay
I’m grateful because I managed to get into the sea twice this week. And there’s still time for more. The sea produced some big waves which were beautiful and dangerous. There was a lot of jumping waves and giggling like the little girl I didn’t get to be when growing up.
I’m grateful to be able to control where I direct my time and energy. At the moment that is all towards myself, first thing, and then I’m ready for what the rest of the day throws at me.
I’m grateful to nature ( until I find a better way of referring to her/ me/ us) as I take my cues and guidance from her and continue to hibernate and rest and dream. LUSH.
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.
I’m choosing to end 2024 with gratitude. I’m choosing to give thanks for 2024 and to recognise the abundance.
Checking through my visual journals of the year and there is evidence of joy and creativity and love but there is also difficulty, scarcity and rage.
But here on the precipice of 2025, I’m choosing to focus on the present and the gifts that 2024 has given me.
In this moment, on New Year’s Eve, I am grateful to have returned to one of my favourite places in the world to bring in the New Year; Glencoe, the Scottish Highlands.
Etive, Glencoe, December 2024
Anyone following my blog from last year will know this is where I spent the New Year last/ this year, 2023 into 2024. My friend of old and I were booked into The Kinghouse Hotel here for their New Year’s celebration package. It was a luxurious affair and reminded me of a holiday camp as we were bombarded with activities, food and drink and entertainment for 4 days. And it snowed.
Alex and me, last year in Glencoe
This year there is no such luxury but that doesn’t take away from my joy and gratitude for being here now. I’m in Glencoe, for the first time, with Kiwi my campervan. This trip up in the wind and rain and dark is fulfilling a dream of mine. To park up for many nights in the shadow of my favourite mountain Etive.
Etive, Glencoe, December 2024
I’ve just been sitting in my van, watching the clouds roll over the peaks. I’ve totally slowed down and have finally started to appreciate the hibernation mode which started in November, with fits and starts as I kept getting disturbed.
I’m grateful that I have the privilege of being able to hibernate, to escape from the world of work and commitments to rest and dream. I’m tightening my belt, living frugally in certain ways, so I can have the next few months off work. Off the clock, off the colonial clock. Because I think, no I know, that 2024 burnt me out. Not just from the amount of work but also from the kind of work of was. I spent hours and energy supporting other people’s dreams in a system which doesn’t recognise our humanity never-mind our dreams. Daily I was going to battle, constantly having to repeat myself as well as explain and justify our existence and right to life/ work/ dreams/ success. It was tiring and demoralising and traumatic. It is only now that I can allow the sheer weight of it to fall away as I’ve been carrying it for a long time. And I’m tired.
So to be in the Highlands, on my own terms, in my own space, not having to see or talk or be with anyone else, is my happy place. And I’m grateful for it.
There is a severe weather warning up here. Edinburgh has cancelled its New Year celebrations because of this weather. High winds, rain, a lot of rain and maybe snow. For the last few nights, I’ve felt the wind and rain lash against Kiwi, we’ve been rocking and rolling but we’re safe and warm and I’m grateful for that.
I’m like in a little cocoon. I have everything I need to wait out the storm, two duvets and thermal clothing, water and food all help for which I am truly grateful. Because I’m living off grid as well as learning to live with less. And with that does come a lot of gratitude.
Inside Kiwi, van sounds
I recognise it in the food I prepare and eat here. Little plates of goodness which are simple but nourishing and enough.
Cooking inside the van
So as I plan to wave goodbye to 2024 and welcome in 2025, I’m cocooned within a circle of gratitude for what is now in the present moment. I’m warm and safe and have a feast for my eyes and tastes and soul to keep me satisfied. I’m very grateful to be able to continue to live out my dreams on my own terms. Thank you x
A small stone is a few words or lines that tried to describe a moment observed; a fragment that tried to capture a moment.
A small stone creates an intimacy with whatever is being observed. It creates a close relationship with whatever is true in the world rather than being distant and disconnected.
A small stone forces us to slow down and connect with the world around us. I used to have this as a daily practice as I tried to tune into my experiences within the world. As I tried to become aware of the beauty within each moment.
As I dive deeper into hibernation mode this winter, I’m resurrecting the practice of a small stone a day because I’ve been feeling out of sorts. I’ve been feeling disconnected from my surroundings, from nature, from this beautiful world around me.
I want to pay attention more, I want to be once more aware. More awake. A small stone a day is a practice that will support my journey of being on this world and wanting to be more sympathetic to others, be less judgemental and more open.
So I’m giving myself December to get back into the practice is a small stone a day. You are more than welcome to join me.
I share my new poetry collection Darkling, come 7 November, 6-7.30 pm (GMT). I’m excited about speaking these words aloud in company. There’s something magical happens when we give voice to our creations. Allow the words, language to reverberate through our bodies. We come to the words almost anew, a fresh and feel all the emotions and meanings as they enfold again and for the first time.
I know it’s going to be an emotional session to share as this book was a long time in the making. I’ve changed so much in its creation. But I’m ready.
I’m not sure how much I’ve shared here. I’m not sure if I wanted to speak it into existence out of fear of jinxing it. Maybe.
Last year, my last publisher Andy Croft got in contact with me asking for my poetry collection. Smokestack Books is planning to close its publishing doors and Andy wanted to go out having published my next collection.
We have a history as Andy published Laventille (2015) and stood by me throughout the whole ‘shit-hit-the-fan’ experience when my life and profession and writing were ruined ( or there was an attempt to ruin me as I’m still here to tell the tale).
So I said yes, maybe naively. As since then I’ve been on a rollercoaster of feelings as I attempted to bring the collection into existence.
At some point I will share some of the poems within the collection. Some of the poems started within this blog. But even though I just got asked last year to complete this collection, I feel, no I know, this collection has been nine years in the making. Ever since Sheree Mack was cancelled in May 2015, I’ve been making my way back to Sheree Mack, someone I didn’t even know existed until she was forced to start again from nothing to building a much stronger and truer foundation.
I’ve been reading. When I read, I feed my wonder and imagination. When I read, I fill up with ideas and dreams and plans.
Reading expands my mind and expands my understanding of the world I navigate.
I cannot stress or emphasise enough how much my world has been rocked or even burnt down since my reading and continued reading of Fugitive Feminism by Akwugo Emejulu.
This isn’t like anything I’ve read before because it goes against everything I’ve been trying to do for the last 50 years; to prove the humanity of Black people, of myself so we can finally be accepted and loved.
But what if we’ll never be accepted? Never be accepted as human beings because who gets to claim humanity is bound up with whiteness, bound up with white supremacy culture?
What if being a human is a construct and is defined by those with the power and was never constructed to allow us, people of the global majority to be as such?
So if I claim non-human what are the possibilities for my being?
This is where I’m heading. This is the space I’m navigating now. I’m making changes from the inside out. In a cellular level this speaks truth and blessings to me. How I {BE} is changing and it includes a whole more ‘fuck offs’. Well that’s how it’s shown up my so far!
This month is hurtling along and September is just around the corner. With my favourite season of the year – Autumn. But we’re still in Summwr for now. Still a few days left of August and I’m here after a luscious seaswim, with coffee and journal trying to make sense of the last few weeks.
Visual Journal Spread- Handmade Journal
I’m back from Ireland and I can’t believe I did it really. It was another world, another time. To just have to think about driving to my next park up each day and feasting my eyes on the landscapes and seascapes was a gift. I’m so glad I did it. And of course I have to go back as I didn’t cover all of the coast. I finished just inside County Kerry and just part ways around the Ring of Kerry. But in no way am I disappointed. To wake up every morning within different bay or coastline or treeline and get into water well I’m so grateful. I know my adventures with the wild Atlantic coast helped me fall back in love with my own coastline as it’s been hit and miss this year with the sea. And getting in her!
Visual Journal Spread- Handmade Journal
The images above are taken from the handmade journal I created to take on my travels. There’s still pages left so I’ll continue to use it. It’s a mixture of cartridge paper and brown wrapping paper. Both covered in acrylic papers and ink and images and quotes and stickers. A hodge podge of reflections and moments and a-ha moments. But the texture and the crinkle of papers is divine.
Visual Journal Spread- Handmade Journal
One spread is my habit tracker for the month of August. On reflection the habit that I have kept the most this month has been reading. After submitting my poetry manuscript at the beginning of the month ( thank goodness), I’ve had more time and headspace to pick up a book or listen to an audio book. Blog newsletter article. Anything really I could get my hands on I’ve been reading. I didn’t realise how much I’ve been missing out on long periods of reading for pleasure and joy. What was best was listening to audiobooks while driving. I was getting so involved with the plots and characters because of the strength of writing but also because of the voices of the readers. I was laughing and crying and whooping behind the wheel of Kiwi and loving it.
Visual Journal Spread- Handmade Journal
So with the month coming to an end and the nights drawing in, I intend to get cosy with more books and reading. I’m between projects, writing as well as coordinating them, and I’m just more than willing and ready to fill my pot with juicy words, images and ideas before I think of next steps.
Visual Journal Spread- Handmade Journal
I know I’ll be using my visual journal to collect any thoughts, feelings and ideas that percolate through so I don’t miss any nuggets but also to keep the conversation going with myself. I planned the Summer to be about rest and time away and just doing what I love. And it hasn’t disappointed. I’m grateful I put myself first and had the resources to be able to disappear from the public realm and work and other commitments to feed my soul.
Visual Journal Spread- Handmade Journal
Thank you as always for coming a long on the journey with me. X
Living Wild Studios 