Not so long since I last wrote. Thought I’d share a beautifully lived and restorative weekend. My friend who lives on the hill above Hebden Bridge, invited me to stay while she was away on holiday. We’ve had a hot week – a heatwave with Wednesday being the hottest day and most humid, ending with a spectacular electrical storm which I watched, hoping, for my car’s sake, we wouldn’t get the golf ball sized hailstones that some people had.

I spent the weekend on my own in the end – although I had initially planned to meet my sister, she wasn’t very well so it was just me, myself and I. In a way a shame, as I could have arranged to meet Holly and Skydancer if more warning, but in the end my own company was very pleasant too and that was nice.

It just so happens that this weekend, the place on the Hill had a festival. A small one granted, but actually really quite quirky and worth going to. In the morning a children’s parade was organised with the theme of Roald Dahl. The children and parents had done themselves proud with their costumes which included Fantastic Mr Fox and James and the Giant Peach. The parade was headed up by a group of local drummers who were just amazing! I could feel an earthy kinship with the rhythm and enjoyed listening to them.

I’m more of a fan of smaller festivals – fewer unwashed people forcing their cigarette, and whatever else, smoke into my nostrils by their proximity! And many more undiscovered musical treasures to experience. I went to Ramsbottom festival last year and really loved it. Not big and flashy like the big festival Meccas, but I came away having found some really amazing acts such as Nell Bryden, Second Hand Wings and Bridie Jackson and the Arbour. Loved them and hope to see them perform again!

After watching the parade I walked down into Hebden Bridge, spent time having a slow lunch, then had an ice cream and walk along the canal. It was hot and a pleasant day – on with my hat and sunglasses. I noticed people here are very friendly – nearly every second person said hello along the canal. Even children felt confident to say thank you when I moved to one side to let them past. A pleasant place, I find. On the way back I stopped by the local butcher and bought some stewing steak for my tea which I turned into a ragu.

Then I caught the little bus back up the hill. Really I should have walked up but I’ve been going easy on my knees the last week or so, hence the lazy choice. And it was hot! Once back, the festival was still on-going. There were two stages – one in the ruins of a church, the other in the square. Good bands were playing – I think most of them local. However next door but one from my friend’s house, were two older chaps who had decided to give an impromptu swing recital in their front garden! They were just brilliant and were stopping people passing by, and some cars, they were so good. They were playing an acoustic guitar and a double bass fashioned from a tea chest and upright wooden post with strings (I’m sure there is a proper name for this but I don’t know it).

I spent most of my time listening to them. I then had a walk through some of the hay meadows along a footpath as the gentler evening sun shone on me. The grasses are high and tall (I guess we are two weeks past the longest day already) and shivered in the gentle breeze and made a lovely rustling sound. Vegetation in general was in full flush of growth – nettles, brambles, meadow flowers and trees. Swifts darted past over my head, wheeling round in the blue sky. You are closer to the sky up here and you can feel it!

I found a footpath which appeared to lead down into the valley through its steep wooded sides, towards Hardcastle Craggs on the other side of the river. I went down the path some way, but decided it was too steep so climbed back up. Near the top the path gets really steep and the soil a little friable. I was glad of a sturdy birch tree to grab hold of to get back to the top. I then continued to walk along the road back towards the house in the translucent yellow light of the late sunny day, some glare remaining. I got a little tired of stopping to let cars pass, so when I passed a stile into a sheep’s field I climbed over it, and sat down for a while. I seemed to have found a magnificent view; down upon the valley and its trees, and up above the tree line to the rolling hills. I let my senses take it all in – the view and the image of swifts and martens flying close above. I could hear the wind, cars in the distance and faint music from the festival. I could hear a thrush calling and some baaing of the sheep on the other side of the field. The trees nearby rustled gently. I could feel the sun on my thighs and the tickly feeling of some greenfly and a small parasitic (to other insects) wasp that had found their way on to my skin, and which I removed with my breath. I picked up a piece of sheep wool and expected it to feel coarse but in fact it was fairly soft. I teased the creamy fibres for a while and then let it go to the breeze. Then I walked back and was amused by the name of a street – how childish!

Back at the house I seemed to have turned into ‘clumsy Clara’ – I kicked over and broke a glass full of chilled coffee, tried to grind some salt over my dinner when the top came off, dumping almost the entire contents on what I was about to eat – Yuk! I wondered what might be the third bad luck? – that happened today!

Anyway that was yesterday. Today I am still on the hill, although will have to return home tonight. It is raining at the moment, so I’ve chosen to sit in and write this. However the first part of the day was glorious again. Beautiful blue skies and sunshine. I wanted to visit Hardcastle Craggs and decided to go today. It was a lovely drive – the only downer was I noticed a beautiful big hare had been killed just on the road out of the village. So big it was, I almost thought it was a poor young fox. I feel an affinity with hares, as I do with many animals, including cats. They are bit of a magical animal, thought I could see its eyes as I drove past. As I drove down the hill towards Hebden I noticed swathes of foxglove flowers – purples, pinks and whites. Rising up like steeples from the shady green banks protecting their roots at the side of the road, reaching out towards the sun.

On the way I parked up in Hebden on a residential street, because you don’t have to pay, and went to the bakery and bought an organic loaf of bread (bit hippy I know!). On coming back to my car I met and spoke to an older lady who was on her doorstep polishing her shoes. I gave her the time for a five minute chat and enjoyed it. She said I could park in front of her house any time as she no longer needed a car, as long as I left space for her neighbours. She was interested in whether I lived in Hebden or not and whether I rented or owned a house. I explained I was doing my best to save up for a deposit but it might take a long time. She expressed her dismay at the financial difficulties faced by younger people today and then she left me to my day.

I drove to Midgehole car park – annoyingly had forgotten my National Trust membership card so had to pay £3.50 for three hours parking! I had taken a bag of rubbish with me to get rid of, so took that to the bin in the car park. On pushing the bag into the bin my left middle finger came into contact with the sharp edge from the smashed glass, which beautifully sliced a cut around ½ inch long. – Ah that’s the third thing then!

So I pinched the two sides of my cut together until I got back to the car and wrapped in tightly in some loo roll. It didn’t hurt too much and this seemed to stem the bleeding, so I went for a walk through the woods to Gibson Mill and spent a bit of time milling about there (pardon the pun). It was lovely to feel the dappled light, and stronger sunlight filtering in between the branches, sometimes warming my legs, the sounds of leaves rustling in the breeze, the babbling of the clear but rust coloured river which has carved out the valley – rushing past across the smooth pebbles and past the stepping stones at the mill. The woods consist of Oak, Beech, Birch, Pine and Sycamore, no rhododendron, but plenty of Himalayan Balsam. And of course lots of deep green Holly.

I walked back along the river and stopped and sat down at one point on a tree stump – it was a group of round stumps and one longer piece of fallen wood which had been deliberately made into a seating area. I spent some time looking up through the beech trees at the sun gleaming through them. I looked behind me to the bank and the trees that grew there. I looked forwards to the flowing river, I looked down and saw a line of rushing ants. I spent ages watching them – some were carrying other ants. I couldn’t work out if they were moving other ants of their kind, or if they were different ants. This reminded me how strong they are and how they are able to get over most obstacles or work out a way round them. Others had bits of pine needle in their jaws and others seemed to just be checking out the ones doing the work, like sentries – making sure they were who they said they were! Further on in the woods I noticed a big pine needle ant nest – I haven’t seen one for years! I must have been 9 or 10 the last time I saw one. When we lived on army bases in Hampshire and Dorset they were in abundance – and much bigger than this one. It brought back memories of spending summer holidays adventuring around in the woods and army ranges, building dens, climbing trees, wading into ponds etc. The nest was moving – so nice to see!

I walked on and noticed that I was rushing along a bit, but my feet were hot and the river looked cool. At first I wasn’t going to take a dip because I didn’t have a towel to dry my feet. But I decided I actually wanted to stop, take my shoes off and dip my feet in the river. So like the ants, I got over the mental obstacle I was putting up against it, and I did go down to the river, took off my socks and shoes, sat on a dry rock in the shallow bit and let the deliciously cool water run over my feet and toes. Bliss! And there was me going to just keep walking on, ignoring my desire to do this because I didn’t have a towel! In fact once I did come out my feet dried quickly in the sun and I dabbed the remaining drips with my socks.

Then I walked on, much more present in my walk. Back to the car and back up to the house. Well this was a really lovely weekend. I even cheekily took a few flowers from my friend’s garden.

 I can see the grey rain clouds are giving way to a whiter light so I’m going to stop and take the chance to enjoy the sun again (suncream on) and leave you with some tips based on my weekend

Tips for pleasure on a hot day:

1. Make a chilled coffee drink (latte) from one or a mix of the Dowe and Egberts Speciality coffee range (Hazelnut, Chocolate, Caramel). Dissolve coffee granules in some boiling water then top up with milk (any fat level), or milk substitute and chill in the fridge for a couple of hours. I like mine plain, but you can sweeten with sugar, honey, rosehip syrup dependent on how sweet your teeth are (make sure you visit your dentist regularly). You could probably add whipped cream too. Just don’t smash your glass.
2. Go to a smaller festival/concert/local event. You may be surprised what you find there.
3. Sit on a hill above a valley, with a hat on, with some shade dependent on your sun seeking/skin protecting tendencies and luxuriate in the cooling breeze playing with your hair, and making the high summer grass sway and rustle in your ear, while you gaze across rolling hills and down to a lush, tree lined river valley.
4. Sit on a tree stump under the shade and watch how clever and busy the ants are. Allow yourself to be amazed at something that we usually never see because we don’t take the time to look that close.
5. Give a stranger some of your time (if their intentions are welcome) – you could be the only person they’ve spoken to all day and you may enjoy speaking to them – often we don’t say we have time to spare, but it may be we are becoming scared of interacting with others.
6. Go for a walk in the tree lined valley with a stream and take at least your shoes off and go for a dip if it’s safe. Feel the contrast between the strong heat of the sun on your skin and stone cool of the water. If it’s really hot just strip off (within reason) and lie in it!
7. Spend some time taking in the colours of foxgloves when they are in full flourish!
8. When there’s a storm brewing, find somewhere safe and watch it, listen to it, feel it.

http://nellbryden.com/

https://twitter.com/secndhandwings

http://www.bridieandthearbour.com/

High times and Crossroads.

I’m leaving longer between my posts it seems. That’s ok, it has felt right. Since last time we have waved goodbye to Spring and her freshness, newness and life bearing. We are now in early summer, the season that sustains, grows and matures, ready for the ripeness, harvest and gradual slip into decay that autumn brings.

Last Bluebell of Spring

The longest day has only just passed – the pinnacle of the sun’s climb. Now we start the dip back towards darkness. I find taking time to appreciate the cycles of nature helps me appreciate the transience of all things. From the experience of how a strawberry tastes, the sound of a blackbird singing, to our very own lives. While we celebrate the birth of a baby, there is also the truth that this new life will one day die.

This might seem a little maudlin, but acknowledging this reality is actually quite helpful. If we live our lives assuming we are going to live forever, we may never get what we deserve out of the time we do have. That’s not to say we should rush at things quickly or headlong – that way your mind and body don’t take in the experience. We should be able to still our minds enough to be able to feel sensations and emotions connected to that particular moment or event. If possible, unplug our minds from the everyday grind, where things become so habitual you don’t even notice you are doing them. By the end of the week – what do you remember. Do you remember what the food you ate tasted like, what the sensation of being touched is like, what sounds you’ve heard, what beautiful things you’ve seen, or do you just remember the stress? If the latter maybe it’s because you aren’t giving your mind time to be still and be ‘now’. Reducing how much your mind lives in the past and future can be really helpful. The past and future aren’t real. The only real time is now – try to enjoy every moment.

I’ve recently done another Tantra workshop with Skydancer which involved a day celebrating our senses. We did a moving ‘shaking’ meditation – which I must admit, takes me out of my comfort zone. I never particularly look forward to these meditations as I fear I’ll look silly, but Skydancer suggests you wear a blindfold. We all did and in actual fact being able to stand in a room full of people and just shake and then move bits of your body that wanted to be moved is quite liberating!! Another exercise involved being blindfolded, standing in the middle of the other workshop attendees, and falling forwards and backwards and being caught by the others. I really felt uncomfortable doing this so would only move slightly! I suppose that tells me I have a heightened sense of danger and don’t fully trust anyone but myself!

We later indulged in some blindfolded sensory stimulation which isn’t as kinky as it sounds. We dulled out sense of sight to try to sharpen the others. We were touched by various things, fed pleasant tasting things and exposed to lovely aromas and sounds. What I realised is perhaps how visually I eat. I see a strawberry, my brain registers a strawberry, I stick it in my mouth and eat it – swallowed – gone! How many times can I remember what it tasted like? This time I tasted everything, felt how the seeds felt and how shiny the fruit felt on my lips. The taste was registered and savoured. When we finally took off the blindfold I was intrigued by the green stalk and calyx left behind. Normally I would just toss this in the bin. But on this day I looked at it intently – I realised that I could actually see the remains of the flower that had created the fruit. Nice metaphor for other areas of life and perhaps how we look at and consider people – who knows, maybe some of you can apply this to other things.

Among other things, I’ve had a marvellous couple of months. Have spent time with my lovely nephew and become acquainted with my sister’s growing new bump – to be revealed in the autumn. I met up with a precious friend from half way round the world and hope to do so again before he leaves if this is possible. I’ve had a wonderful holiday with Holly – rejuvenating and invigorating. Got to know a part of Spain I’ve never been to before. Felt the sun on my skin and watched the swifts circling overhead and Holly saved a Gecko from the pool. Occasional crankiness from me – think I’ve lived on my own for so long I’m not sure I could even live with a partner full time (may have to have my own wing of a house!). But hopefully I wasn’t too annoying! I did have a bit of a mental meltdown at one point – linked to someone’s insensitive joke. However another day and time and it might not have bothered me too much.

Have been thinking about children again and whether I should have them or not. Wondering what old age holds for someone on their own (faceless nursing homes, at the mercy of people who don’t know or have that bond with you, or remaining in my own home only to walk up and down pestering busy and uninterested neighbours for company – let’s hope not). I went to see a fortune teller about 8 years ago – in a sceptical frame of mind, only went to accompany a friend who regularly went before making any decisions. This lady told my fortune, told me I’d recently lost a relative due to a disease in the head (aunt, brain tumour), then told me I would in the future meet my King of Hearts – he wouldn’t be what I might expect (I think I have already met him in many ways), then she read my cards and turned over two saying “this is your son, and this is your daughter”. Who knows what that meant really but it is something I always remember and wonder about.

Biologically I have a desire to have a baby – not overwhelmingly so at all, but it is there throbbing away in the background and every now and then nips at me a bit. This would not be possible with Holly and I’ve spoken to him about it. But I think our relationship has deepened and I certainly dread a causing any hurt. We’re going to talk about this soon – that’s one of the amazing things about this relationship – I don’t feel I have to hide anything even if it is a difficult thing. That said this is all presumption. I may not meet anyone and I may never have children – this looks increasing likely as I’m now 2 years away from 40. I think I would cope if I don’t, but there may always be an undercurrent of persistent sadness that I haven’t known what it’s like to have a little warm body cuddle up, or feel a small hand reach out for mine. That said recently I’ve seen the sacrifices people have made for children and I’m not convinced I’d have the energy or how unselfish I’d be.

I think I could really have a good life without children. The freedom would be precious, ability to be very selfish and not have to be responsible for anyone. Probably physically, financially and possibly mentally I’d be healthier?? Of course I firmly believe the fewer humans on the planet the better for the sake of our world – so I’d be doing something I advocate. I have a wonderful family and am blessed with wonderful friends as mentioned in previous posts. I can go where I like, when I like, get up when I like at weekends, go to the gym, go on holiday etc. And I’m not sure I’m cut out for holidays to Disneyland, and think I’m probably too old fashioned to want to accept my child would spend a lot of time doing digital things. My ideal would be to have them skipping through a meadow on a sunny day, picnicking, pond dipping and climbing trees!

But more frequently I’m struck with a feeling of futility – “what’s the point” etc. Many of my patients go through treatment because they have children to think of – if I was ever in their position in the future I may not have that necessarily, which begs the question of whether I would bother, knowing what that treatment would mean – but perhaps that’s a blessing in disguise.

I also think there is an undercurrent of low value put upon older people in western societies. I’m not old – but I’m getting older, as we all are, and if we look around our society – a woman’s value is still very much demarked by her looks (media, plastic surgery, body image issues), her youthfulness (how many skin creams can you buy?, how many roles are there for older actresses?), her sex appeal and fertility. I feel and look better now than ever in my life, but as these things wane for me how valued will I remain? Hopefully as long as I value myself I’ll be ok – but these things are very real issues and pressures for women – and perhaps for men too, although I’m probably not so qualified to comment on that (although I’ve been working on supressing the beard for years ;-).

We perhaps need to work harder to shift the focus of a woman’s worth from sexual appeal to men, to all the other amazing attributes the feminine carries with her. Hopefully our daughters can be taught this gradually and learn that they are more than just a blank face free from wrinkles, or legs free from fat. All of my female friends are amazing women in their own right.  They all stand out as very special (in the traditional sense!) people for one reason or other, and I count myself as very honoured to know them all. Western society sometimes thinks it’s freer than others, but in reality some of the more binding things are so ingrained that we no longer notice the tethers. I’m hoping to do a women only Tantra workshop soon – watch this space for more ponderings!!

Perhaps appropriate issues / dilemma to be thinking about at the turn of the year – things are constantly changing, both to us and around us. What does that mean for us? How will those changes make us feel? I find it therapeutic to try to accept feelings and run with them now, rather than trying to run away from them, because they can kind of keep up! It’s easier to work things out like this and regain some stillness and contentedness.

I hope you all had a happy Summer Solstice. I hope you can be still enough at times to really live and feel the lighter and lovelier things in your own reality. Remember although the light is already starting to wane and darkness pushing back into our lives, the sun is kind of a the start of its journey back to us next year. Yipee!

Light and Dark on the longest day – Summer Solstice 2015

Tips for this post – some taken from recent workshop:

• Slow down.
• Find time to stand still and just be (Yin) rather than constantly doing (Yang) – even if for five minutes at lunch break, focus your mind on what is happening now. What can you hear? See? Feel on your skin?
• Find time to touch yourself and feel how lovely you are – are you really aware of what your arm feels like? We rarely touch ourselves other than to wash it clean, or perhaps criticize ourselves – not so positive.
• Try eating something with your eyes closed – don’t just gobble it, take your time, use your sense of touch as well as taste, and see if this makes a difference.
• Have a non-screen day. Don’t watch TV, don’t look at computer screens, if possible don’t or limit phone screen looking/dwelling. I recently did it for a day and really felt so much better – stiller, clearer head and better thought processes without the polluting screen traffic clouding my crystal clarity!
• Get outside for some exercise if you can – a walk is nice.

P.S three of my grafted apple trees have worked – one even has one solitary fruit on it. Small but perfectly formed and becoming rosy with each day – very pleased with myself!

Well it’s been a long time since my last post. Sometimes a pause from something is good. So many things have happened within the world since I last wrote.

A walk with Holly along the banks between the river Colne and the Huddersfield Narrow Canal – as if a sign, the banks were actually adorned with real holly, splendid in green and with some red still flashing between the leaves. Narrow bridges – how on earth do canal boats get through those! A bridge near an old mill which still bore three furrows; two from the passage of both wheels on many carts that passed over it, and the third, in the middle from the plodding hooves of horses pulling them. There was a wonderful bakery-collective at one end of the walk. On the way back in an early Spring sky, turning azure into indigo, a light chill descending and touching our skin, a single star shines brightly and witnesses a pure, lingering and loving embrace.  Then on to the pub for half a pint and then a walk to the healing place and the warm sanctuary it holds.

For me it has been a better time. Enjoying now. Feeling the joy of living in the moment. Spending time with my nephew that is so precious, as he grows and passes his second birthday. Spending time with all family and friends. I finally bought a DVD from the little boy who often sells things outside his home on the other side of the river Aire. Bless him – young but a very brave salesman – “would you like to look at my sale” – most times I have no money on me, but today I did – so I’ve bought a DVD I didn’t need, but it was only for 50p and I don’t begrudge it. A lovely holiday happened with a new friend and exploration of a volcanic island. We hired a car and risked driving on the other side of the road! Visited most of the island, saw some beautiful coastlines, deep blue Atlantic waves crashing onto black cliffs, landscapes that looked like the moon – vast swathes of old lava flows, which must have been terrifying when they were happening, cacti and small succulent plants with star like flowers – just showing how tenacious life can be! tall volcanoes which were reminiscent of Mordor, tranquil marinas, ate fried fish by the sea, tried prickly pears for the first time, we were accidently flashed by a naked man putting his bathing trunks on and saw one of the most brilliant natural optical illusions in a cave. I remember the fertility symbols unique to the island – models of a man with penis and a woman with an opening – they looked a bit like Morph!!! The tale goes if a man fancied you he would send you his ‘morph with a penis’ if you fancied him back you’d send your lady morph back to him!

Our hotel was nice, populated mainly by older guests with some real characters including two people who used motability scooters reminiscent of Madge from the UK series Benidorm. There was one lovely old man who walked with a stick who really reminded me of the main character from the cartoon film ‘Up’. We were there for the solar eclipse. Our ‘animation (mistranslation of entertainment) team’ consisting of one man called Mark, had made some eclipse viewing apparatus out of an array of shoe boxes, tinfoil and a penknife. They looked a bit Blue Peter – however I think they would have worked quite well had the eclipse itself not been eclipsed by a rather large and inconvenient cloud!! A group of us including the ‘Up’ man had got up at the crack of dawn hoping to grab a glimpse of the event. We stood there for a about 45 minutes, wondering if the wind that had been so present the previous few days would whip up and blow the cloud away. Alas it didn’t really happen. ‘Up’ man gave up before us, waved his stick and said he was off for breakfast – just as he rounded the corner of his apartment block the sun bloody came out with a tiny sliver of eclipse left. I didn’t see it as it was too bright to look at. Poor ‘Up’ man, sod’s law – still you can’t win it all and I’m sure he had a good breakfast!

We also visited one of the old capital towns – complete with a pagan like ritual where young men dress up with a bull mask on, and a very creepy ‘artistic’ garden. This garden consisted of concrete statues and perversely arranged old things – semi-burnt dolls, teddies, mannequins with dummies strung up in trees, old TVs, shoes. As our eyes scanned the array of ‘dead’, unwanted things they eventually came to rest unnervingly on something alive – an old man sat stock still on a plastic chair at the back of the garden. It turns out he was the artist, but it terrified me and I nearly regretted not wearing brown trousers that day!

I’m continuing the process of feeling better in life. Holding myself precious and finding contentment in what I have, not anxiety in what I don’t have. I still have times of doubt, restlessness and tears, but these are more easily borne and don’t seem to last as long as they did. I used a mixture of the things I’ve learnt this past year – from Katie the therapist (holding myself and my worth dear, tapping, viewing things differently), Holly the lover (going for what I want, loving in the moment without worrying about ‘what ifs’, being more exacting in what I deserve from a lover, and learning how tender a man can be and at the same time desiring me sexually), Skydancer (better direction, ability to examine what I’m feeling and why) and above all the wonderful support of friends and family (they all know who they are). I know that there isn’t a life on Earth without hard times and sadness, but that they can mostly be manageable and once through them you can receive the lighter times with a sharper appreciation.

Yesterday I spent time at the healing place mentioned above with one sister and a friend. What a wonderful afternoon. To step out of the rush and just stop is invaluable but harder than you might think. I had an Indian head massage with some chakra work. I must admit I wasn’t a great believer in ‘chakra stuff’ although I was open minded. I have to say the chakras that the therapist felt weren’t at their best were my throat (ability to speak/communicate about something) and solar plexus (sense of personal power and control). With some thought both were spot on.

Throat: Of course I had suppressed speaking about my past abuse for a long time so maybe some residue of this in my throat. We also discussed if I had attachments to Holly. I think there I do have an attachment. Not in a traditional life partner sense, as this is not possible for various reasons. However there is love towards him in a non traditional sense, and in a sense that is adequate for me, and I wonder if I have been frightened to voice this to him in particular. Not known if this would be a welcome thing or not. I will be seeing him soon and will talk about it.

Solar Plexus: Recently I had discussed moving in with someone. However I have worked out I would save more moving into a house share and have been frightened to go ahead with this for fear of upsetting her. I have not focussed on prioritising my personal power to enable this and go ahead with what is best for me. Now I’ve identified what is causing the anxiety I’ve been feeling recently, I can hopefully take hold of the power I always have access to, and use it to do what is best for me and my savings plan.

Of course these past few weeks have not been have brought some people great worry and sadness. 3 friends have lost a thing that was supremely precious or wanted. None deserved or did anything to deserve these happenings, all three are the nicest of people. Bad luck, that’s all, a bit of life that has been quite frankly crap and unfair for them. At work 2 soul-mates riven apart by illness which did not wish to let go of one half of the two. Another dear friend is going through an uncertain time of worry and waiting. A plane full of people crashed into a mountain by a co-pilot who had mental health problems. What made him carry this out nobody will ever know. I just hope mental illness does not become driven further underground or become more taboo than it is at the moment because of this. I flew from a warm place 2 days before the crash – I’m not a great flier anyway. I had a thought as I often do when I fly – what if we crash, what if I die. After the crash I had a realisation – the question is never a subjunctive ‘what if…’ the question is always an indicative ‘when’. It’s the only thing that is certain for us all, we can never be entirely sure when the ‘when’ will happen. I think this concept sits a bit more comfortably with me than it did. Not that I have any plans to kick the bucket any time soon – and hope I have a bit further to go, but I hope that if the time did come sooner than I hope that I can at least be satisfied that I’ve started to live my life and bask in the lovely things I see, do, hear, taste, touch now and in the moment. It might be gone in a blink.

But even as the events above brought death, trauma and sadness into sharp relief, Winter was laying down it’s crystalline crown for another year and Spring had picked up hers woven with snowdrops, croci, yellow daffodils, frog spawn, buttery primroses, eggs in nests, fox cubs, freshly unfurled leaves, hares, lone queen bumble bees searching for a nest, the first butterflies on the wing, mallards mating, geese arriving from winter grounds, golden celandines, white stars of anemone and wild garlic. This crown will fade, and we will mourn, but it will be replaced in due course by late Spring’s bluebells, mayflower, ducklings, chicks, foxgloves and swifts. I very much look forward to seeing it and hope to approach the changes about to happen in my life with a more open heart and mind!

Just a short one today. Since I last wrote the temperature has dropped and we have shivered in a wintry white world. Slippy journey’s back from work, big boots on to grip the ground. Funny week – have felt unsettled. Not sure why apart from having a particularly bad week with expensive equipment broken and having to deal with some particularly unreasonable people. But nonetheless I’ve found my mind busy and racing with things – not even focussed thoughts really. My mind was just running.
Yesterday I spent a lovely evening with my friend. Shared some delicious food and a film. I focussed on how special my friend is and how good it feels to have friends like I do.
Today I went for a walk along the canal, and along the river Aire. The Aire was fast running and full. It was very grounding to listen to the rhythmic thud and lull of the rower’s oars. My intention was to take some food to the wild birds in the hedges, fields and bushes that run behind the Aire. So I took a bag with apple, bird seed and insect laden fat balls. I divvied this up as fairly as I could.
I’ve seen some lovely things. The first thing I saw was my first goosander. At first I thought she was a grebe – but on consulting a book when I returned I discovered my mistake. A beautiful graceful little duck species.

I saw tiny birds like blue tits, great tits and coal tits flitting from bush to bush. I heard and saw several blackbirds singing as well as robins guarding territories I expect – maybe just for food or maybe they are making ready for the next season.
I walked through the woods – still bearing their winter transparency. However buds are there waiting for their cue to open and re-clothe the wood in it’s splendid verdant hues. As I walked along the path beside the Aire I noticed Holly standing proud and striking with his enduring leaves and red berries. As in the carol, Holly continues to bear the crown for me.

Although I do feel Ivy needs more promotion than the song would have us think – it is a crucial late food source for insects towards the end of summer and autumn – producing globes of flowers which are actually quite pretty. They also provide cover and insect food for small birds such as wrens. Please consider planting ivy in your garden.

I took the path along the side of the canal, the part I couldn’t go along in the post Rosehip Autumn. I noticed that Oak had gone. His heart had completely hardened and the men had come and cut him down. I felt a little sad, but also hopeful. This means there is now room for other trees to grow in his place.

Despite my fingers feeling Jack Frost’s kiss on my walk, I also felt the most amazingly hopeful warmth of the sun on my face and back. I also saw that the some of mallards appeared to have paired. Maybe just a hint that spring isn’t too far off. The sun is staying longer already and is climbing higher into the sky. I felt blissfully warm and happy in the warmth of the sun. Most importantly I felt still and grounded in the moment I was living.

One of the last things I saw were the swan family – possibly the owners of the 5 feathers which featured in the post Shadow Self. Beautiful. Cob, Pen and last year’s two cygnets which should soon go off to start their own families soon.

At last this week my mind feels calm. I think it helped to just step off the treadmill for a bit.
There is a piece of art by one of my favourite artists. It’s title is ‘ Be still and listen, the world is singing’.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/121416326/be-still-and-listenthe-earth-is-singing?ref=shop_home_active_2

I think this a lovely thing to remember to do when your mind is in need of some still and calm. Until next time.

Well already a couple of weeks into the new year. Sad things happening in the world still. Massacre in Paris and a man beaten in Saudi Arabia, a massacre of Muslims in Africa by their Christian neighbours. Victims of unenlightened religion. In the face of religious extremist currently afflicting our planet – most visibly, but not exclusively, of the Islamic variety, I’ve been wondering whether in fact it is a good thing I don’t have children in the current climate. Humanity has the ability to extend great love, peace, justice and well being across the world. However time and time again this is usurped by warped ideology. Young people, often men (and increasingly women), without a purpose or sense of their own masculinity find a purpose within misogynistic tyranny – why? because they are so insecure within their own being, threatened by others, and probably women in particular, that they have to find some way of regaining control over others – when really what they need is to regain control over themselves. I’ve made an observation – and that’s all it is, an observation not fact, that often British Muslim converts are red haired. Which section of British society are often marginalised and parodied (irrationally according to me) – ginger people. Interesting and illustrative correlation don’t you think. Not that I’m saying the Western World is perfect – of course it isn’t – we waste food and resources on vulgar levels, we are unhealthy, we hold on to the majority of wealth and exploit poorer nations to ridiculous proportions. Does anyone give a thought to who mined the diamond in your ring? swam in mercury filled pools to pan for the gold in it? whether people are paid enough to even eat for producing our rice? the horrendous human rights abuses going on in our oil rich Gulf state friends and in China (we can’t offend them too much because we depend on them or make too much money via trade), which child sat in awful conditions and sewed the buttons onto our cheaply produced clothes, think of the agony the animal endured when it was skinned alive in China to provide fur for our coats, gloves etc. However regressing into a world of torture, ignorance, oppression and darkness is not an option and fundamentalism (religion is just a vehicle for this) is a huge threat to us all which needs to be and will be erased. However perhaps it will prompt us to also look at ourselves and shadow selves with new sight in order to improve the way we live and eliminate the need for anger and violence.

Anyway away from world politics on a smaller level, I’ve seen some lovely things out in my part of the world. Driving across the moors to visit my friend down the Valley and up on the Hill, the sky was blue but what cloud there was, was peppering the world with hail and sleet. The pale cream light of the January sun made any icy patches glisten and shine. Perfect snow drop weather I thought – although there are none to see on the ground where I am at present.

Two weeks ago I went for a walk up on the Moor which looks protectively over the valley, river and canal where I live. I wrapped up, with hat, and gloves and sturdy boots – on reflection my bobble hat made me look a bit like Wally from the Where’s Wally series! Some beautiful sights, if not me, and although the cold was nibbling at fingers, the sun was just strong enough to bring a delicious warmth to my face and hands and was very comforting on my back.
I sometimes think some of the best things in life are some of the simplest – feeling the warmth of the sun or fire when you are really cold, a cool breeze on your neck when it’s sweltering hot, a drink when you are parched, food when you are really hungry, a wee when you are bursting!

During my walk I saw swans and ducks on the canal and fed them some old bread and stale cinnamon buns I had made that weren’t a success. On the way along the canal I looked at the cement paving stones in the section near the Mill – Jack Frost had kissed them and created the most delicate and beautifully unique patterns. The sky was blue and I could see an aeroplane trail. As a child I used to think these fluffy long sky serpents were Jack Frost – I used to look up at him and wonder how he got the ice all the way down here. But here’s a photo to show his works of art:

Up on the Moor I noticed people were taking part in a race – reading maps and clicking in at various checkpoints / GPS things – no idea what they were really! I took some time to stay up there and looked at the big flat stones which have cup and ring marks on them – funny to think how long people have lived or been coming up here. The countryside centre opposite the Moor remains closed – victim of council cost savings unfortunately. What a waste I thought – it’s a lovely house with land which could be maintained.

As I walked back towards home I noticed the sun playing on the canal – I noticed 5 swan feathers in a row and thought it looked nice. Wonder if the swan was moulting, or if it had a scuffle and lost them, or if they came loose as it took flight. Who knows?

I’ve enjoyed doing this blog and while I mention people who are in my life. I don’t wish to cause them any trouble – hence the plant pseudonyms. The name choices aren’t random – they all have a meaning behind them which is private to me.

I mentioned Rhododenron in a previous post – just briefly. Since we have mentioned shadow selves, maybe now is the right time to mention him, my relationship that was to him, and what my thoughts are about it.
Rhododenron replies from time to time – but only in a way that avoids developing a conversation. He never was very good at communication. Met him when I lived in ‘Mithras city’ (also a pseudonym for a large British conurbation). He invited me to buy him dinner (as a joke), I went out to dinner with him and things went from there. Initially he lavished me with text messages – I was the most special woman, lovely, he couldn’t get enough of me, got a message every time I woke up. Rhododenron is one of the most admired and skilled specimens in his patch of woodland. Renowned for brightening any woodland get-together, frequenting clubs that entertained with naked bark, no need for any partnering flora, undying loyalty to the plant from which his cutting was taken – a projected self to suggest his life is all he could want. But I know he has a shadow self – even if he didn’t reveal it entirely to me. I could see it. Of course a Rhododenron would have a shadow self – with such thick foliage how could he fail to have. We all have one. A part of us where we store and suppress feelings, fears, memories which, for countless reasons, we can’t accept or allow to live as a true part of us which is seen by others.
He once let his guard down and revealed a tiny glimpse into it. ‘You won’t forget me, will you?’ came the tortured request during one of the first nights I chose to spend with him. A fear of being left alone, a desire to keep someone close, but at the same time a frank inability to do this and allow attachments to develop and show the kindness of his heart.. Desire to have a relationship and the fear of being alone firmly secreted within his Shadow Self. No I won’t forget you Rhododenron. Unfortunately for me remembering him has entwined with a lot of upset that I allowed him to cause.

Ours was a relationship which he only permitted to exist between us two. “Don’t tell anyone (you haven’t told Narcissa, Henbane or Viper’s Bugloss have you?” more about that toxic triad in future posts) – “I’m a very private Rhododenron” he said. “I don’t want anyone to know”. Communication was only allowed by text message. I was permitted to be in his company for a few hours per week. I soon began to tire of this as the relationship was not developing beyond the superficial, and I appeared to be less and less of a delight to him than something he had to ‘fit in’.

Eventually I moved away to take a better job – the last time I could spend with Rhododenron for a while was a Friday evening. I was permitted to come to him in the evening. Spent a few hours – then around 7am I was woken and told in not so many words to leave as he had planned to go out with some significant other Rhododenrons. So I just had time to look at him as he virtually pushed me out from his habitat – I could see him fighting his shadow self in his eyes. Despite this he said he was very keen to keep our ‘relationship’ going. I moved away and returned to Mithras city the following weekend for a party – he was unable to see me that weekend, with valid cause – he told me he was ‘gutted’ he had missed me. The next week a mutual acquaintance guessed I was going out with Rhododenron, I told him – afterall what was so problematic about people knowing you are in a relationship with someone? What followed was an attempt by him to completely annihilate me from his life. Did he dump me because he was ashamed to be connected to me? In the brief 6 months we’d been an item I had only been introduced to one foreign friend, no family.
Anyway no reply to any text, would not answer my phone calls – even when I left very distressed voice mails, and felt suicidal – I told him about my past and why I was finding this break up so difficult.. Over the next few months I tried to at least get an answer as to why he behaved this way – I’d have accepted being dumped and have moved on far more quickly had he given me some valid explanation -to go from being begged not to forget someone, to then completely not existing for them is quite frankly not a normal state of affairs, so excuse my difficulty accepting it.

His reaction was commensurate with me having done something terrible, or with him being married etc – which he assured me he wasn’t – certainly no evidence of a wife in his immediate environment. I received no answer other than when I turned up at his on Halloween (yes I like to pick my times!) last year. All he would say is that he is a very private person. I’m sure he is, but I believe now this is his weapon against his shadow self becoming too strong a force within him. He can stamp out any relationships before they really started, because how can you hope to have a relationship which is completely hidden – who would be accepting of that unless you have something to hide – in Rhododenron’s case the hidden thing was that part of himself – the desire for something he fears will eventually hurt him. Reflecting previous experience of being left alone and in small way betrayed by those he loved when he was vulnerable, although they were doing what they thought was the best at the time. If this hypothesis is at all true – I have my own similar event in my experience and can sympathise in my own way.
I can’t do anything to change the above for Rhododenron, and I guess if he can supress his shadow self sufficiently he’ll manage to live out his life happily by himself and have no regrets in that moment before everything goes dark. He may well read this ( I have invited him too so he can tell me if he believes I’ve been unfair in my account) and think I’m entirely wrong in my missive. Or he may eventually allow his unique shadow self some space to grow and find that he can make up for lost time.  I think he could have a lot to offer someone, in whatever form that relationship may take.

As regards me I probably wouldn’t have got to the point of being hurt by him had I been more in control of what I wanted – if you remember I wasn’t satisfied with what Rhododenron had to offer in a relationship, and yet I still put up with it, accepted it, – I wonder how long I’d have let it go on. That was me suppressing shadow self – my desire to be directive to a man, take control and responsibility for my own well being within.

I’ve mentioned Holly in previous post – he is a new lover. I don’t know how long he’ll be in my life, and I don’t see him very often. However he has been a big part of helping me to learn to take only what I want from a relationship, to be directive and only give to the other partner if I want to do it – not because I think I should. He is patient, gentle, loving in the moment and my goodness has stamina. My pleasure is the key. It has been important in building on what I have done in therapy – learning not to constantly be thinking about how I can please others, learning to love myself and place worth on myself (in and out of sexual relationships). Can I just say the sex has been mind-blowingly good – like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, I’ve actually had orgasms which are better than the ones I give myself. I’ve learnt what really works for me and to ask for it. It would be easy to say that all my previous sexual partners have been very bad lovers – and in some senses they probably weren’t that great. However I think the biggest factor was me – putting up with bad, boring and let’s be honest, sometimes painful sex, and feeling like I need to do things to please my partner, maybe never helping them out by telling them what I wanted them to do – men aren’t psychic and vice versa.

Oak told me last year that he thought I needed to forget about sexual relationships and focus on myself. At first he seemed right – however my own truth is that I needed to focus on myself and as part of that focus has been on developing a healthier relationship with myself and starting with positive sexual experiences, has really helped. After all my first and premature abusive sexual experiences were not at all healthy. Over the last few months and occasional encountered with Holly, I’ve reclaimed my body, but more importantly my mind as my own. Now I’m able to do that I’m looking forward to experiencing a future filled with pleasure and contentment which I’m in control of.

When I first heard the word ‘shadow self’ it sounded like a concept that should be full of negatives, evil and darkness. Of course it can be full of these things – dependant on the person, but for me I think if you can bring yourself to engage with it, deal with the painful aspects that it brings with it – there is likely to be aspects in there that can enrich your life, what a pity to keep them in the shade forever.

Well it’s 2015. A New Year. 2014 now just the past. For many an awful year – people falling from the sky, politicians creating wars and angry men with beards hijacking a religion to try to spread tyranny and evil.  For me a mixed year – whilst one where I was very depressed at times, also one where I found the strength to forge a way forward.

During this festive time – from the beginning of December, past the Solstice to New Year’s day, today, I’ve been doing a lot of travelling. Travelling to see beloved family and precious friends who are my guiding lights. We had snow on Boxing day. A few days of ice and haw frosts leaving sparkling icing on pavements, branches and fallen leaves. Driving along the M62 I noticed the solitary black shapes of rooks foraging among the white and grey ice on the hard shoulder. I’ve always liked corvids – unfairly thought to be bad luck or associated with bad things and death. However they are very intelligent birds and quite social.  I thought about how hard life must be for them here – out on the wild hills of the dales and Saddleworth moor – but they are fantastic problem solvers and resourceful.  So although cloaked in black like chief mourners, the birds looked like sentries or guardians of the way I was going – almost heralding the death of the old year and the dawning of a new. I was very pleased to see them.

Later I saw a flooded field full of swans – big white lumbering birds. Couldn’t see from the road what type they were though. The scene reminded me of the Ugly Duckling story – I used to have read it yourself version – always thought the illustrations were slightly wistful!

Today’s drive was windy and blustery and wet – I can hear the wind whipping round the old mill chimney as I type now. Tall bare winter trees buffeted around. The sort of weather which moves things on however unsettling it may be.

I’m tired today – due to too much frivolity last night. But I’ve had a really lovely December. I’ve spent time with all my close family and my little nephew who is a shining star. This year has brought me closer to all of them I feel and hope. I appreciate what wonderful people I have and how much I love them all.

I’ve also seen most of my best and good friends. Ticky T, Minigoat, James, Dodge, Sarah Wellings, Don, Pannie. All of you have been such positive influences for me. Others I’ll hopefully catch up with soon. I love you very much.

I have another EMDR session tomorrow. My therapist is fabulous and the work we’ve done and I’ve done has been very effective. The relief of feeling the change and being more in control is wonderful. Although I’ve had a little stall over the Christmas period, I staying focussed on the important people in my life, what I want out of life, and how much I’m worth. Over the last few months I’ve learnt to look after the little girl I was and carry her with me in my heart. This is a very good thing and although heart-wrenching at first because I had to confront the fact that actually it was me that was neglecting myself, I feel much more warmth to ‘me’ now! I’m well aware that this process is ongoing and I hope I can document these things in my posts for as long as I need to do this.

As well as my long term friends – new people have come into my life who have been positive. Two via two tantra workshops I took part in – which despite my initial cynicism I actually got a lot out of. The leader – ‘Skydancer’ is extremely intriguing woman – not led at all by what is expected to happen or what she is expected to want – led by her soul. She teaches love and the real meaning of that – how to look inwardly when you are expressing love. Then there is ‘Holly’ – he has played a particularly important role in teaching me what I should expect and deserve in any future male partners – whether they be in the long or short term. He allowed me to learn to take as well, rather than just give. That has been hard and I must admit I still find it uncomfortable at times – I suppose it will take some time to undo the programming. I am hoping to build on my relationship with both as time goes on, and take on the positive things and learn to better love myself. I guess we talk about ‘other halves’ – I didn’t think I’ve ever really subscribed to that – but I guess at some level I was. In truth each of us are our ‘whole’. We should be able to love others and enjoy being loved back, but not depend on this. We should be able to step back into ourselves and feel the same pleasure and joy about loving just ourselves and the life we have, as when we externalise our love.  After all every relationship will end one day – whether that be through break up, death, illness etc – the only enduring relationship we will have to our very ends is with ourselves. I’ve never looked at it that way before – I’ve had a real fear of dying alone recently, knowing I may never have children (not that I’d have them just to crowd round my death bed!) – but you won’t die alone if you have a good relationship with yourself.

So yes what a year – all in all ending more positive than it started. Death of two grandparents at the beginning, including the abuser, finding a way to get to New York for the big cancer conference, when I started off thinking I’d never get there, letting go of Rhododendron, meeting Oak, letting go of Oak, starting therapy and making progress. Finding new respect and care for myself, and above all appreciation for the wonderful people who already grace my life.

So no resolutions per se – I never make them really. But I think I’ll be doing a stock take of what is in my life at the moment and what doesn’t need to be there. A bit like taking out the rubbish – it’ll only get smelly if you leave it!

Songs to go with this post:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OfJeQDkz4JU (Annie Lennox – Shining Light)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q770wceGxK8 (Bic Runga – Winning arrow)

Art to accompany the post:

https://www.etsy.com/listing/98688009/winter-guardians?ref=shop_home_active_9 (by Karen Davis – one of my favourite artists and bloggers)

Well this week I’ve felt the true bite of Winter. A few days in Scotland in the Highlands. Every morning, apart from today as I travel back by train, has greeted me with a silver mantel and a kiss as cool as the Snow Queen. The silver coat of winter can be numbing. Removing feelings both good and bad. It’s the time when things die to make way for the new. While I half expected my feet to feel numb, I felt strangely invigorated by the chill. Although it is a dark time of year I feel decidedly more positive than this time last year. This time last year or thereabouts,  I sat in my kitchen with a bread knife wondering what it would be like to cut into  my wrists. The black dog of depression was firmly on my heel. It followed me wherever I went and held any joy, happiness or love for myself at bay. It curled its foul lip and bore it’s yellow craggy canines at people who cared, so I couldn’t find any way of connecting to them. Instead I tried to reach out to Rhododendron ( more about him in later posts). But despite my tears and sobs into his voice mail Rhododendron would not spare me any time because he was at a dinner in with colleagues.

A phone call did come around 12.30am. Luckily I was asleep but I could have been dead. I wonder if this would have affected him terribly much?
Of course it would have devastated my family, friends and some colleagues, especially as they had no idea just how low I was feeling. I didn’t really intend to act on those feelings or I’d have just done it. But no one just thinks like that for attentions sake. It’s always because they need help, their emotional pain is so huge and have no idea how else to show it.
No one chooses to be depressed.

Until last year I had no idea what real acute depression was like. Absolutely no idea. I don’t think anyone can appreciate it until you’ve felt it and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. You feel so out of control of your emotions and it’s hard for people who aren’t depressed to cope with someone who is. Not only does it feed on joy like a ‘Dementor’, it can also put you in touch with your own secrets which have been carefully suppressed over time and that’s not comfortable for anyone. We are socially programmed to only be allowed to acknowledge positive emotions. Almost like if we recognise sadness or anger it will weaken us in some way. But things that are buried decay and leave space for the ground to fall in behind them. If enough is buried you could be looking at a landslide. Likely Rhododendron couldn’t cope with what was happening and was unable to offer me the friendship I was looking for. Even though I wasn’t,  I felt alone and hopeless. Depression also blinds you.

But my eyes are very much alive and reflecting the bright blue Scottish sky a year on from all that. Thank god. I’m more alive in my present now and able to share the joy of seeing a vibrant Robin hop onto the decking. An adorned male pheasant chugging up between the lodges. Small tits (no smart comments) flitting from branch to branch. Cars were scraped and the weak gold of the Winter sun gradually caused the frost upon the hills to turn into steam. This looked strange as we drove past the golf course in Gleneagles on the way to Crieff two days ago. I thought about how old the hills are and how short our lives are and how lovely it is to be alive.

I have had an enjoyable few days with my friend, her mum and sister. Relaxing. Trips to Crieff and Auchterarder. Lunch in nice pubs and cafes. Never over ate. Lots of tea. I hankered after a beautiful tweed coat in Valentines  in Crieff. Sounds a bit old fashioned but it was beautifully tailored in 1940s style so just up my street. However it was 350 pounds so was left in situ so to speak!

Now I’m on the train back to the North East to spend some time with my dad before he goes to spend Christmas in Australia.
I’m also going to see my mum. My lovely mum who I left on Monday going to the doctor to ask for therapy as well. How could I not have seen that she and her sisters ( and countless other little girls/children no doubt) had also been victims of my grandfather. He who had died at 90 from a burst aneurysm and had someone with him when he died. He who had never acknowledged what he had done and how he had damaged lives. And my grandmother who must have known but did nothing for who knows what reason.
That’s why I keep contacting old boyfriends over the past couple of years after being dumped. I wanted them to say sorry and acknowledge they had hurt me. Although of course this is just acting out what should have come from my granddad.
Hopefully my mum will find the therapy helps. Never too late to start, even if she’s had longer than me to bury things.

We are powering along the north sea coast. I can see the sea. I love the sea and Northumberland is one of my favourite places. I managed to see the Kelpies from the train windows when we were still in Scotland.
The world has put her Silver Mantel away for today and donned greyer garb. However I feel as if I’m moving forward. Therapy is definitely making a difference and moving it to fortnightly has most definitely given me time to reflect and gain clarity. I didn’t sleep well last night as I kept thinking about Oak Tree and Rhododendron. In thinking about them I tapped into a lot of hurt and feelings of betrayal again. The feelings come from within me. However innocent or guilty they are in how much or little respect they showed me, these chaps were a place for me to earth these feelings.

But I guess these sorts of nights will get fewer and eventually stop. I’m learning through my time with Holly (more about him later) that I deserve more than I’ve been allowing myself.

Anyway tip time:
A nice idea for a small gift for someone. I bought one of these from our local cancer charity and think they are a wonderful idea. A good and meaningful present even if you can’t afford much:
Happiness Bags:
You’ll need a small organza draw string bag or similar (maybe from craft shop)
Put the following in it:

A marble- for the days when you feel like you’ve lost yours.
A piece of string to hold it all together when things seem to be falling apart.
A small fabric or cut out paper heart- to remind you someone loves you.
A small fabric or paper cut out teddy bear- for a nice hug when you need one.
A small erazer- to make all the little mistakes go away.
A candle (birthday) -to brighten your day.
A coin- so you’ll never be broke.

Write the above list on a gift card and attach to the bag so the receiver knows what the hell it means. Also avoid tying the string into the shape of a noose as was the case in my bag – especially if giving to someone with emotional difficulties!

Wishing you all contentment, warmth and embraces over the past few weeks. Let’s hold that young mum and baby in our hearts for a while.

Song to match the post: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Fpw7Z0Ncgg (Vashti Bunyan – Winter is Blue)

Well I’ve had a good weekend. Spent doing little things with lots of pleasure attached. Cooking, spending time with friends, a few festive gifts. Had a run today through the Autumnal land. Along the canal, past the mill. I noticed the ruby and scarlet red berries on the trees, fewer ducks and swans on the canal, leaves still fluttering down, mummified blackberries still on the bushes – unpicked and gone to waste, I noticed the rosehips left on the bushes, where I had picked some last month and made into delicious rosehip syrup. No sun had broken through the clouds yet, so a milky light prevailed.  All reminders that Winter is waiting in the wings.

I could have really run for longer this morning, but as I got to the first lock, in the direction of Bingley, the tow path, where it cuts through a section of wood, was cordoned off. I couldn’t see why and was perturbed as I had wanted to run all along that way. Instead I had to turn back and ran back up to Salt’s Mill and bought a book on trains and railways for my friend. I hope she likes it.

I guess sometimes the way you think you want to go is blocked – and the reason might not be clear. The path looked clear – no fallen trees or obstacles, no work going on. But who knows – maybe if I’d gone along there my feet would have found some unstable earth and I’d have slid into the canal  – I doubt I’d have drowned but I’d have been wet and cold for definite!

This weekend I’ve also been thinking about another way that was blocked. It’s a story about a tree, a metaphor that represents a recent meeting in my life, how I reacted to it and why:

An Oak tree. The Oak was going through a time of change with bits having been sawn off by the tree surgeons. His acorns from last year had been taken further afield by the little squirrels. He did not feel he could produce any more acorns.  A handsome tree with bright green coloured leaves, some just with touches of russet gold at their edges. She first stumbled upon Oak when she was going for a distant walk that she’d wanted to do for ages. She thought she would never get there – but with some help and resourcefulness she found herself there at the end of the mid-summer month. It was Summer and the Sun was blessing us – the source of all life. The warmth on her face was divine. Everything felt exciting and new.  As she went along, she came to the wood at the side of the river. A beautiful wood which had been carpeted with bluebells in the April, its damp parts a nursery to tadpoles in March, a wood which enchanted your senses with its colours, sights and beautiful sounds. If you looked up you could see the trees; a mix of Oaks, Beech, and Birch mainly, towering above, reaching towards the sky. The few fluffy clouds skirting overhead.

She walked off the path and into the wood and heard the Oak calling. He had already stood out to her but she tried to ignore the calls and spent some time amongst the other trees.  A Scots pine tried to tempt her to come to him, but although he looked grand, did not wish to spend time in his shade on such a beautiful day. Inevitably she was drawn to the Oak and came to him and spent a while in his presence. Despite the scars made by the saws, he still retained big magnificent branches, one on his right was particularly notable, and the saws hadn’t touched his heart. She stayed until the Moon replaced the Sun in the sky and filtered down her platinum light. Later, unbeknownst to the Oak, he scratched her badly with his bark. She cried and told him her secret. He held her sweetly and gave her sane and reasonable advice.

As with everything, the walk had to end. The final caresses and kindness with Oak will stay etched into her heart. She went to take a drink and turned back to say goodbye. But suddenly he was gone – no trace. The momentary loss she felt was overwhelming. Still this was not unusual and so she steeled herself and walked on. As she turned for home she once again heard Oak’s voice. His words were kind, gentle and gave her hope. He hoped to see her come this way again. She was walking on air.

Of course the ‘She’ is me in the above story and the oak a mere metaphor for someone else.  Now to the outsider (even others with my particular history of experiences) will look at the resume of the above interaction and automatically see the ‘do not enter’ sign on it. As lovely as the story reads, The Oak was not in a position to really give her the love and tender touch she wanted longer term. Apart from the thought of a tree and human blending genetic material being ridiculous, he couldn’t have any more acorns. He had been injured and needed to heal himself. Despite this she did enter and represents a repetitive pattern of behaviour I exhibit in relating to men, which tends to override the bit which sees clearly. Anyway on with the tale:

Over the next couple of weeks she heard Oak’s voice daily. He used the nicest and gentlest words. She really thought he thought she was ok! They arranged an encounter in early autumn. But before this the men with the saws turned up again, Oak became sad and his leaves started to lose their vibrant hue and turn brown. She often tried to find his voice so that she could try to help him. When she did find him he thanked her, but it also seemed accidently managed to scratch her again. She accepted the scratches because she craved his affection. She couldn’t see that things had already come to an end. The arranged encounter didn’t happen and the last time she ever saw or touched him was in the yellow warmth of summer. Occasionally she may hear his voice whispering in the breeze when she walks along the wooded path, but only if she calls,  the words are mostly brief and distancing. She hopes he is managing to heal and that he doesn’t allow the scars to reach his heart

Accepting the scratches in pursuit of love is more telling about my state of mind than those of the men who scratch. This is part of what I’m trying to change with my EMDR therapy and my amazing psychologist ‘Katie’. This brain loop of ‘give them sex and they’ll love you’ was burnt into my brain a long time ago it’s hard to break something that has been there a long time.

Since accepting nothing more can come of my time with Oak I’ve been having feelings of – ‘not again’, ‘every time this same pattern happens’, ‘what’s so wrong with me that men suddenly do such a sharp U-turn and speed off in the opposite direction’. And this Oak seemed keen – what hope is there? Was it because I’m having therapy, I’ve been abused, or the stigma and fear among men about women with mental health problems? Maybe when he reflected on it I just wasn’t good enough for him?

In truth it’s probably because Oak was injured himself, lives too far away, isn’t ready for a relationship and perhaps thinks I deserve more than he can give at the moment. I hope he heals in a way that his good heart isn’t affected in too deep a way. That he can still trust and go on to find happiness again too. Bastards are ten a penny. We need to nurture good men and women – people who can look at another human and see a reflection of themselves in them, understand their pain and share their joy, above all those who can give and receive love unconditionally.

I’m feeling quite hopeful that the work I’m doing with my therapist is affecting changes within the way I think and understand certain situations. I’m beginning to see the bigger picture and how those circles in my brain, burnt in somewhere between the ages 2-5, have been driving me for all my consenting sexual life. It’s only take 33 years!

The sun went down as I was writing this post – it’s now dark outside. I’m warm, in my small flat at the end of the day.  Despite the lack of light at this time of year I can see better now that sometimes you just have to turn round and go a different way, however much you wanted to get past that barrier, as there’s usually a good reason why it’s in the way.

Hey, who knows – maybe the other way will be more interesting than you could possibly imagine. Until next time..

Song to match my mood and this post: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6en1BTlY0Kw (Vashti Bunyan – Rosehip November)

Shakti Awakens.