The Dregs of Summer

This summer has been the summer of hydrangeas. Everywhere I’ve been this summer, on my travels and just walking the neighbourhood, I’ve been met by these blooming bountiful heads of colour. Big bushes bursting with these delicate four petal bunched-headed flowers. And every time my heart has sung at the sight of them

And as the summer comes to a close, with the changes in temperature and of light, these flowers will start to turn brown and in this flitting beauty of autumn, they will still make my heart sing as in their beautiful fragile death there will be rebirth.

How to feel better

It’s been a few days (weeks?) since I’ve been here. And I do hate it when I don’t turn up here because I’m missing out on opportunities for connection, with self and you, at the same time as the longer it goes in between posts the harder it is to get back here.

But I’m back and it was something I wrote on my journal last month that spurred me on to turn up. And I wanted to share it with you as it inspired me to feel better.

And these aren’t my usual activities which I go to to feel better but looking over the list this morning, I can honestly say I’ve been leaning into them the last few weeks without knowing it’s been so. I love when we get the chance to take a step back and reflect and see our journey. I’m so grateful for that.

So what has been making me feel better:

1. Cleaning my space. Be that handbag, bedroom, side table or whole house. I’ve been reaping the rewards of moving my body in cleaning/tidying up and then having the satisfaction of sitting down in a decluttered clear space. It helps the mind to gain clarifying also.

2. Eating something healthy. I’ve been deep in essay writing mode and have been living on toast and crisps and wine! But when I take the time, a break from the grind, to make a salad, or stir-fry and sit and eat mindfully, my body is not only fuelled with the good stuff but I’m resting in a space of joy. I enjoy my food and have the double whammy of knowing I’ve just given myself health.

3. Playing some good music. I’m known to have the tunes blasting in the car, especially as I’m using a friend’s mini convertible. Roof down, tunes high and I’m singing along. But I forget I can do the same within my home. Okay maybe not as loud as when outside. But putting on the mini speaker linked to my Tidal music account, I can move throughout my house listening to the music I love. Music that inspires. Music that I can’t help moving my body to. Music that brings back good memories. And bad. But still manages to get a smile out of me.

4. Lighting a candle. This is a simple act. One I’ve been doing more and more recently as I have candles in every room of my house. I’ve been having them on repeat as I attempt to create a welcoming ambience for anyone viewing the flat. Yes the landlord is selling the flat we’re renting so we have to move. So more people are flowing through the space and having candles glowing is my way of keeping the air clean and scented. It reminds me to take deep breaths and trust that everything is going to turn out for the best. Vanilla, cherry, cinnamon and lavender are my favourites at the moment.

5. Drinking water. Oh my. Now this one is a game changer but I admit I forget it. Daily. Water. I love water inside and out but when I get buried under tasks and emotions, I forget to drink water. That feeling of cold liquid journeying down my throat through my chest to my gut is refreshing, revitalising and a blessing. It only take a moment but still obstacles get in my way. I’m carrying a gallon sized bottle around with me as a means of getting more and enough water. It’s a practice and I’m leaning into it.

6. Sleep a little ( or more). Maybe it’s my age. Menopause. Or the time of year, or my body and mind and soul is just racked with anxious vibes but sleep has been evading me of late. But I’m not going to make it an issue. I’ll take sleep when it comes. And if I can help it, I’ll nap when I feel tired and stay in bed that extra hour if my body calls for it. I rest in other ways too. Be that zoning out in front of the TV, reading or an evening walk. All are a rest from ruminations and allow me to switch off.

7. And finally BREATHE. Yes yes yes. We breathe all the time as it keeps us alive. But how deeply are we breathing? It wasn’t until I picked my meditation practice up again did I realised how long I’m been breathing in the shallows not having the utilising the full capacity of my lungs. Living in the shallows means I’ve been panicking, being on edge, anxious, living on scraps of air when I could have been taking and enjoying big juicy expansive breaths that calm and recalibrate my whole body. I’m breathing deeply. I’m stopping what I’m doing/ being at times to take a few deep breathes. They reoxygenate my body and give me pause for gratitude. Gratitude for being alive in this moment.

I hope you find some inspiration in these practices and try a few. They make me feel better and sometimes we all can do with a reminder of what does make us feel better so we can lean into them more often and more deeply.

Poem – An Act of Faith

Isn’t that what a poem is?
A lantern glowing in the dark.

Elizabeth Acevedo

Just as dusk is falling, I walk. Affected by the elements,

head in pain from the wind, I force myself out into the dim light,

believing moving my legs will strengthen my heart.

Motherly care, higher forces in radio silence. Walk

The moon pale blue and silent. But still there. Always.

Like the ancestors, guiding. Allowing me to find my own way. Tonight.

To falter, make mistakes and loop back. Remaining open.

Trusting these windows of silence as still inspiration.

Hope holds optimism. Optimism holds joy.

The touch of joy, fine-grained dark jasper, I search for along the path.

This spiritual path of putting pen to page, again and again.

Like one foot in front of another. An act of faith.

Another Day Another Spread

Visual Journaling Spread

It’s the afternoon. And I’ve just finished another visual journaling spread. I might have been up at 7.30 and came to the page but again, remembering yesterday, I’m here to slow down. I’m here to savour these moments of light and joy.

I might have even shifted rooms in the process, moved from the bed to the couch. Exposure to more light and more bird sounds. Seagulls squawking and trees budding casting shadows on the living room floor.

The energies are quickening. There’s a fizzing of excitement in my stomach, my core. Who know’s what the day will bring?

The day has already gifted me time and space and colour and light and an immense feeling of peacefulness. Mindfulness. Kindness. Thank you.

Writing for Life and Light

Wind protection / hood up

The days of March are blowing by quickly. Blink and I might miss them. I decided about a week ago now to not allow the present to slip on by unmarked.

I want to say probably over 20 years now, I have kept Morning Pages, in some form or other, inspired from Julia Cameron‘s The Artist’s Way.

I came to the pages broken, after my mother’s death, going through a difficult patch while full-time English teaching and trying to be the perfect wife and mother.

I was coming apart at the seams, trying to be everything to everyone and nothing to myself. I was hating on myself for not being good enough at anything, and trying to prove myself in an environment where I was always going to come up short.

But I didn’t know that then. I was on the sick from school, resting and re-evaluating my life and The Artist’s Way came into my life through community creative writing classes where I’d go weekly, grabbing a mocha coffee at Morrison’s beforehand. I felt like I was playing hooky from school. And in a way I was.

With practicing Morning Pages, I found a space where I could be. Allow all my mixed emotions and thoughts out in a safe space and not be judged or fail. I couldn’t fail at Morning Pages as all I had to do was keep my pen moving on the page, three pages, and never look back.

A window opened inside of me. Into a dream world. Into my childhood. Into my joys and pleasures. And I came to realise that I wasn’t happy with the life I was living. And change had to happen and happen straight away. I was impatient to start living my life on my own terms.

After being on the sick for half the year, I went back to school in the June. Had the summer holidays, went back after them and handed in my notice so I could finished in the December of that year. I didn’t have a net but I jumped anyway. That was 2003.

Fast forward to March 2023, and I’m marking the present, my life in all it’s fucked up glory, by working through Julia Cameron’s Write For Life.

Four things are the foundation of this creativity boost for the soul; Morning Pages, a daily quota towards my writing project, a daily walk and a weekly artist date.

I’ll follow up this post with a breakdown of what each one of these things entails. I’m just place marking this process here for a minute.

The image above is me out on my daily walk, with the sun shining but the wind blowing into my face. Nah, that’s not my new hairstyle but the fur on my hood. But can you see my inner shine. My light. That light comes from living in the moment. Marking the days with the simple delights of being present. Here and now.

Moonlight, mothlight caress

When light drips from the moon, I wonder what she sees in me.

As her light stalks through cracks, does she feel the longing threaded through the hairs of my arm, and slicing through the rim of my smile?

When light bulges from the moon, thrumming the water of my weight, does she sense my hunger for a lover’s hips touching my inner thighs, for a breath down my neck, in caress?

When the moon’s light fingers me from sleep, to wind circles over my skin, moth light, white light, does she taste

the salt in my bones

the sugar in my sweat

the howl in my throat?