Not sure why or how but I went with it. It got me outside the house into the sun. A cold day but we had the light.
The light pulled me around the park, as I walked ran walked. Second run of the week. So what if I took an extra day between each run to recover. I got back out and I’m grateful.
My mood has remained up as the day has gone on. And I say I don’t know why but I think I do.
I think because I’m building up the trust I have in myself is the thing. Because I’m consistently showing up for myself with my morning routine. I’m showering myself with care and attention. And I’m feeling the benefit of it, through waking up with a smile of my self.
It’s a circle – I give into my pot in order to receive.
For the past 5 or 6 years, I’ve created a vision board at the new year for the year ahead. It sets out my intentions and desires and dreams.
Last year, 2024 didn’t have a vision board. I wasn’t feeling the energy to create it. I didn’t have any visions. My head was down as I ploughed through some projects for others.
I missed the focus of creating a vision board as well as having some kind of loose map to move through the year. I was feeling lost last year in so many ways and I didn’t want a repeat this year.
So this is my vision board for 2025 and it lives on the wall at the bottom of my bed. So I get to see it and focus on it every morning and every night.
There’s nothing major on there in terms of big changes and tasks but it does focus on being more present as well as focusing on experiences over material things.
I want to feel all the feels and still be standing afterwards with a smile on my face. There’s a lot of gratitude grounded in this vision board as well as wisdom. As I know what makes me tick and what brings be joy but there has been times in the past when I haven’t been prioritising them.
2025 is all about my needs and wants and desires. And not in a selfish way but in the way of how can I expect other people to treat me well with love and respect if I don’t give myself this.
Or as Maya Angelou said it , much better than me …
So this is the intention for 2025. I’ll be back to explore and share how I am supporting this journey through routines and rituals and attitudes.
Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?
As I’ve recently shared my word of the year is LUSH. I love this word. It reminds me of my childhood when everything was LUSH; a way of expressing my enthusiasm and my curiosity. When it wasn’t shunned to be in your feelings. When it was natural to full of awe and wonder.
I’m evoking LUSH this year to get back to that state. To foster these feelings more in my every day. I want to feel the LUSHness of life.
And yes I have been in my feelings this week, even if those feelings have been of pain and annoyance and regret towards my recent accident. But you have to experience all the feels in order to appreciate the joy and pleasure.
As a way of anchoring myself into this LUSH life. In order to have a reminder of where I am, what feelings I really want to wallow in, within joy and pleasure and self-love, I have this green ring I wear on my left hand. It’s a commitment from myself to myself. It’s a reminder of the love I am fostering and leaning into towards myself.
The ring has weight to it. The ring is beautiful. When I wear it I’m feeling it’s there on my ring finger and it’s reminding me I am loved and cared for. I am enough as I am, no conditions. This green ring, significant LUSH, is unconditional love for myself.
During my time of hibernation, (have I mentioned that here?) I’m resting of course but I’m also writing and dreaming and catching up on the things I want to do with my time and energy.
Another one of my abstracts was accepted for a special publication by Demeter Press around mothering and life writing. I completed an essay in 2023, around my Black Matrilineage and last year I complete an essay around Black Mothering and Creativity. This is probably going to have to be redrafted this year, but in all honesty I was just happy to submit something, as I had a major block around this essay. I think it was because I allowed my creativity and energy to be sucked into other people’s creative dreams and lost sight of my own last year. So when it came to writing the essay my well was dry.
Anyway, I’ve started the reading and writing around my third essay now which is all about Black mothering and fugitivity. I love fugitivity and it is one of the supporting words for 2025. As I mentioned before, I’ve been exploring fugitivity for the last few years and what this means as a practice. So I’m mighty pleased in having the time and space to explore it further and deeper through writing this essay.
While going over my abstract again and riffing off from it, I remember my creative non-fiction novella I created called rubedo. I think this came out in July 2016, after the 2015 shit hit the fan episode in my life. rubedo was my exploration of this time in my life and how I got through it. It was through finding myself after years of repression and not listening to my inner wisdom that I came to be who I am today.
Anyway, I revisited rubedo with this chapter/ essay in mind, realising that 2025 is 10 years since this episode in my life. It sometimes feels as if it was just yesterday. I know I felt it keenly last year when Darkling came out. Darkling is my first poetry collection since Laventille (2015) and the shitstorm episode. And to tell the truth, I’m waiting for the the shit to hit the fan again, as I’m sure there are people picking their way through Darkling as I type to try and find evidence of plagiarism again. As they say once a plagiarist always a plagiarist! It’s not a term or label I identified with then or do now. As that’s not me, that’s not who I am but that didn’t stop people then or now from looking for the evidence to prove/support it.
But I’m not here to talk about that. What struck me about rubedo is the raw honesty of it all. And how writing, writing it all out literally saved my life. I’m so grateful that Ian brae enough to pick up my pen and writing through the shit to now.
Here is what I wrote about my capacity to love no matter what:
“But something does inside die this day. And the days that follow. Something inside of me, the capacity to have patience and make allowances for other people’s bullshit was destroyed during this lynching. No doubt, using the term ‘lynching’ will invite criticism. I know when Andy Croft my publisher used the term to condemn what was happening to me on social media he received a fair amount of criticism. But I do not use this word lightly.
Ironically, in the months leading up to my death by social media, I was researching and writing poems about lynchings in America. I was referring to the postcard images that were collected as souvenirs by the spectators of lynchings at the time. There were those people who got their hands dirty during a lynching, who actually tied the knot of the noose, beat the victim, mutilated the bodies. And there were those who came along to watch the spectacle. Viewing the death of another human being as just another social event, a festival, something to be enjoyed. Both killers and spectators relish the sport.
This in my opinion is what happened to me. A public lynching and souvenirs where taken. One person on Facebook, joined in the thread of conversation with a comment as a means of marking it. This person was rubbing their hands with relish, saying that they didn’t want to miss a thing as this spectacle was just too good to let pass by.
When I died this cruel death something inside broke. I’ve recently come to realise that is was my heart that broke that night. I’ve been visualising my heart with a rose in the centre. This rose is closed. This I read as a symbol of
me shutting down, dying inside, shutting off the natural flow of love from my heart for my family, friends, for the world around me. My heart was broken, so I have been denying myself and others love. I’ve been living in fear, fear of it being hurt again, fear of my heart being broken again, fear to love. In a way, this had to happen to me. For one, I’ve always disliked that capacity in me to keep forgiving others, letting them back into my life when they’d let me down and not lived up to my expectations. I’ve taken on board the responsibilities of others, thinking I’ve had too high standards and I’d been unfair. That capacity has been obliterated. I can’t take anybody’s bull shit anymore. But at the same time, this capacity to forgive is part of my large capacity to love. And if this is who I’m really are , then I shouldn’t fight it any longer but accept it.
My true self is my capacity to love, to love fiercely and powerfully. I accept that now and I’m no longer blocking up my love. I can’t live in constant fear of being hurt, of getting my heart broke again because then I would not be living true to my capacity, true to me. I would just not be living at all.“
I’m so pleased that since then I have found others, such as bell hooks and Joy James, who write about revolutionary/ radical love and validate my ways of loving, which at times hurts me but also brings me a while heap of joy also. You can’t love without the expectation or knowledge of getting hurt.
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
The River Etive, a river running through Glencoe, Scotland which I had the pleasure of getting into on New Year’s Day. This was my first wild swim of the year, of course, but it was also my first wild swim since November, 2024.
At the end of November, I got two new tattoos. I’ll share them at some point here ( a clue you’ve already seen them somewhere on this site already!). So with tattoos, I’m not supposed to get into the sea for three weeks afterwards. Three weeks came and went, and I still hadn’t gotten in. I could make the excuses of time and other commitments, but really there was fear and again me not taking my medicine.
Anyway, I’ve made a commitment to myself and 2025, to make sure I prioritise myself, putting my needs and wants first. Leaning into the joy and making sure I feel LUSH, more times than not. I got into the River Etive, as I shared here. Now I’m back home, I’m making the effort to get into the sea. It’s on my doorstep.I have no excuses, and yet, I know 2024, saw me less than ever getting into the sea. I lost my rhythm, my mojo of getting in. I forgot how much I gain from walking into the sea, all year around. I’m not planning on doing the same thing this year. This year, I’m making water, inside and outside my body, a priority, as the rewards are multiple and multiply as the day/ days go by. Whatever it takes, I’m getting in. Watch me!
For the past few years, I’ve been trying to protect my mornings. I’ve tried to not schedule morning meetings so I could give myself the time and space to ease into my day. I’ve found that when I give myself this time and space in the morning to be/do what makes me feel more like myself, then the rest of the day runs better. It’s about prioritising my needs and wants before I face the world and give myself to it and other people.
So the past few days have seen me try to embed much more ritual and intention into the start of my day. I would do certain things that I know were good for me but some days I would forget and rush off into the day and then realise later on what I had forgotten to do. A simple act of getting water into my system first thing could be overlooked if I wasn’t being mindful in my mornings.
So on reflection, I realised that I was still protecting my mornings, but I wasn’t being/doing the things that I needed and wanted to do with consistency. And there’s the rub. Consistency. Consistency over complexity. Keeping things simple and doing things over and over again has the potential to bring about change, clarity and joy. Consistency doesn’t have to be monotonous and regimental as I feel I’ve been looking at it over the years. Consistency can be cozy, and constructive and pleasurable, for sure. Well this is what I’m thinking now as I try to become more consistent with my morning routines and rituals. And of course it’s a practice, like everything is. And some mornings I might fail at the practice but really it’s not a fail even if I forget something from the routine. What the point is, is the mindful intention of practicing a morning routine and remembering why I am doing it. To prioritise myself.
So what does my morning routine look like? And sharing it here is just another way for me to remember it, remind myself, to embed it. To make it became second nature with time.
On waking, give thanks for waking.
Water out/ water in
Back to bed to mediate
Read in bed
Move body
Coffee and journal
Get ready
Start day outside – walk
Come back to gratitude at the end of the day and share 3 things I’m grateful for
Repeat
What do I have to do to make this happen? To make this a habit? Do it and keep doing it. It isn’t a chore or anything difficult. It’s giving me a chance to make sure my mornings are SLOW. There’s room for self-reflection, self conversation, self-love. Do it and keep doing it. And if I miss a step, go back and do it when I remember. As soon as I remember. And not to beat myself up about missing a step but offer myself some compassion and grace. I’m not trying to be perfect or a morning goddess. But I am trying to be me, more me. More whole me.
Living Wild Studios 