present

Birthright

| Sheree

Our body-temples are divinely designed to restore themselves, but we must rest in order to do so. For rest is not a reward…it is our birthright. And rest helps us to indulge in soft sacred spaces where we are reminded that we are intrinsically worthy of love, concern, care, and pleasure. – Sensual Faith, Lyvonne Briggs

Present Reflections

| Sheree
Visual journal spread

The weekend passed in a haze of pain. Being in pain is tiring. I’ve been keeping moving, not wanting to sit for too long and stiffen up.

My visual journaling practice has been helping to shift my energy. It’s been spreading positive vibes at a time when I could be feeling less positive. My mobility is compromised and I’m feeling it.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself but I have been annoyed with myself. I’m trying to offer more compassion and understanding towards myself and looking at this time of injury as I chance to reflect and learn.

What would I do differently? What do I need to listen to / heed to more? I was following no one else’s instruction than my own when I said I as going out Saturday. Through sheer pig-headedness I continued on my way, even thought I saw the path was dangerous. I didn’t want to be seen as having difficulty in walking. I didn’t want others to judge me as incapable or old even.

I didn’t want to give up on my plans, on myself, not wanting to be beaten I carried on even when my gut was saying turn around and go back home.

But I got beaten anyway and in a much worse way. I’m learning and listening now because I don’t have a choice.

I’m learning how everything is so precarious and one false move everything can change. I didn’t think I was taking things, my life and body for granted. But maybe I was/ still am.

Things have to change. I’m lucky that I have the time and space to bring about this change. Slowly does it indeed. I’m got nothing to prove to myself or anyone else. And I must remember this. No one is watching me as everyone else is focusing on their own shit.

It’s me who’s putting on the pressure, the expectations, the rules and regulations. It’s me who has to let go and surrender.

End of week Gratitude

| Sheree
Cullercoats’ Underpass

This week has been a blessing.

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.

The End of 2024

| Sheree
Glencoe, December 2024

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