sea goddess

claiming my time so my morning flows on my own terms

| Sheree

When I know I have a busy day, in commitment to others and outside the home, I make sure I claim back my time. I get up early and feed my pot first. I prioritise me.

This morning saw me up at 6am and out, down to the sea.

It was so beautiful this morning, with a slice of lemon on the horizon. I knew I’d made the right decision to get up and out, while the rest of the world was sleeping.

And of course I had to get in. June and the water is still cold. So it woke me up, job done. But it also calmed and focused the mind. When I’m with the sea, I can do anything. Nothing is an issue or a problem. It’s just gravy.

Once out of her embrace, I took to walking along the front, continuing my ultramarathon training, increasing my time on my feet each day.

Now home and completing my visual journaling over coffee. I’m satisfied. I know I’ve given myself the time to ease into the world on my own terms. This means I’m a happy bunny and for the rest of the day, I’ll be basking in this joyful light.

Anyone who comes into my rays will be blessed.

Medicine Walk

| Sheree

I was reminded of my connection to the sea today by a stranger. The sea showed up in my work without me knowing so until it was pointed out to me. I thank this fellow poet for their observation as well as holding space for myself and others to break through. More to follow on this experience.

A May of Healing

| Sheree

It makes a difference when we’ve got the light. And it’s warm with it.

I’m in a three day streak of getting into the sea, straight after the school run. The tide has been in too. Which I love.

I love it when the bay is full to the brim with sea. I don’t have to walk far before I meet the water.

I give thanks when I greet the sea. Because she’s always there for me. Not judging me. Not rejecting me. Just welcoming me.

In the past, the sea has healed me again and again. The first time of any significance was when I miscarried our second child, back in 2009. We moved to the coast soon after as I needed to heal.

And to be healed is not a one time thing. Healing is a life long process. Sometimes I’m locked into my healing journey and sometimes I veer off course and need something or someone to remind me to get back into the practice. The practice of healing.

So with a new month comes a renewal. And this is the time of year to renew. Spring is well and truly with us now. And the blossom may be receding and just pink petals on the wind, or white even. But I’m catching hints of bluebells.

So my list of habits and actions to lean into for a May of Healing includes:

  1. A high protein breakfast.
  2. Making sure I get 8+ hours of sleep each night. Priority!
  3. Getting lost in a few good books.
  4. Walking each day. Getting outside into the light.
  5. Getting into the sea as often as possible, at home and away.
  6. Visual journaling daily.
  7. Getting back into painting for pleasure. To hell with the results.
  8. Increasing my fruit and veg intake.
  9. Increasing my water intake. At least 2litres a day.
  10. Continue on my strength training journey.
  11. Insight timer daily.
  12. Reconnecting with friends and family I haven’t talked to for a while.
  13. Solo dates like to the cinema or a museum. Or a delicious meal out for one!
  14. Acquire some new plant friends.
  15. Create a zine or two.
  16. Plan the summer holidays for Miss Ella and me. And also solo me!
  17. Keep traveling for pleasure and joy instead of work commitments and responsibilities.
  18. Write someone a letter.
  19. Dance party, music consumption daily.
  20. Rest. Rest. Rest.
| Sheree

The water is ice cold. It’s like being bitten. The natural instinct is to retreat. Drawback. Curl in on self – reducing the amount of surface skin touching the ice cold water.

I do not.

I keep inching forward so more and more skin is exposed to the cold. Now. My toes, the first part of my body to touch the water, are numb. They’ve taken on that false warm feeling as it they’ve warmed up and comfortable. But they are not.

Now. I’ve lost all sensation in them which is good. As if the pain had continued from toes all the way up to my thighs where the ice cold water has now reached, the bites, the incessant biting sensation of short sharp teeth would have taken over my system along with the piercing screams erupting from my lips.

Now. Instead, I continue to wade into the ice cold water. To my core. Now. I breath deeply, and bend at the waist, outstretched my arms, fingers hitting the water first to push back the ice cold water as I take my first breast stroke.

Now. My body is totally submerged and she is screaming out in protest. She is in pain but I do not listen to her. Instead I push further out, making wide sweeping stroke with arms whose elbows are howling in pain. Now. I keep my breathing steady and continue to glide through the water as if my body is not asking for mercy, asking to retreat, asking to exit ice cold water.

Now. It happens. The cold is no longer felt as acutely. No lingering ice cold. Just cold. And numb. Numb and cold. I continue to swim across the bay. And give thanks. Now.

Consistency

| Sheree

I’m using my morning routine as an anchor. Each day comes and goes, but I can show up and repeat a selection of rituals which keep me present and bring me joy.

When there are days when I hit a funk, when the energy is low and I forget about the abundance in this world, I lean in a bit more fully or a bit longer into a certain practice until I come back to myself.

Today, I needed to move with the sea. It’s been two weeks since I’ve been into the sea what with being away and experiencing the come down. So I promised myself last night, today is the day to return. I kept this promise to myself, strengthening that muscle of trust in the self.

It was freezing and beyond. The wind chill was sharp and painful. The waves were high out there. But I walked in and out, did my acclimatising dance and gave thanks.

I thanked the sea for being here, always to greet me. No matter how long I’ve been away, or how broken I turn up. She is always there to greet me in all my fucked up glory and I thank her for holding me, for rocking me back home to myself. To her. To the universe.