Shapeshifting

This is what I need to learn

Drive-by posting

Quick. Not much time. Bath running. Stuff waiting. Here we go...

Unchocolating: it was filmed as a TV show by film and sound production degree students. V amusing and distracting. The closest I'll ever get to being on Oprah. I sat on the sofa in front of a huge table of chocolate goodies while the thoughts of 50 teenagers yelled,"Sad old woman who can't resist fattening food. Poor cow." Whatever.

Tessa, she was the therapist, waved a lot of Galaxy chocolate under my nose, we chatted and then she hypnotised me. It worked. I don't know how long it'll last but I have no desire for chocolate. It's not a strong, nauseous anti-chocolate thing. I just don't want it. The weird thing...the strongest feeling is that I don't want to touch it. She asked me to hold a bar of Galaxy and I couldn't. I was going to buy some for Charlie today but couldn't bring myself to pick any up. I hope it lasts.

I've been experimenting with spray varnish on the stones I painted. It's not really working. I think I'll have to brush clear varnish on to them but I'm scared it'll smudge. I've used acrylic paint on the pebbles. What can you experienced arts and crafts types advise?

I also played with carving stamps to brand the little bags I have for the stone sets. Don't like it. So I'm going with Plan A on that.

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'Sony Maroney Stick of Macaroni'

for Love Thursday

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Glove puppies. Oh yeah, they're back. I'm warming up my puppy muscles on a birthday present for Evie's best friend. She (the friend) is very fond of Jonesy, who goes to nursery with Evie three times a week, so hopefully it'll be a hit.

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The Threadgoodes are proving to be prolific layers.

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Casey Cat is 18 years old today. He celebrated by going in and out of the back door a lot, eating a lot and sleeping a lot. He rocks. He is immortal. I've lived with him longer than I've lived with any other being; human, feline, canine or otherwise. Happy birthday, Handsome. The guys just voted you in.

Paypal is not my friend.

Lisa is. Please support her if she can. She's wonderful, she's talented and she's doing this for all the right reasons.

Laters, taters.

Ready

Spring is almost here in Wiltshire and as usual I’m coming back to life. I’m feeling quite proud of how my family and I have made it through this winter without disaster. The vicious viral circle started in November and at least one of us was sick right up until Evie’s little bout of chicken pox last month.

Add in the fact that Charlie had been off work with stress and depression since October.(Sorted)

Add in the fact that I was hormonally challenged like never before.(Mostly sorted)

Add in financial insecurity.(Yeah well...ongoing)

Add in facing a change to our lives (in the shape of Charlie’s new career) that thrilled but terrified me.(Embraced)

Oy.

But we made it in one piece and with relatively little drama.

So here I am and here, of course, are lots of other people too. All around my blog reader I’m seeing women emerge from the winter with fresh plans, fresh thinking. They You are discarding old patterns and embedded stories and I empathise so profoundly that as I read I hear deep, cell-changing harmonies.

The days are longer and I’m falling back into my natural rhythm of waking early, in the light, spending time outside after work and going to bed at A Reasonable Hour. I’m moving back into my flesh and blood life, away from the computer where I hibernate through the darker months, letting it bring me hope and sunshine and company.

In fact, I’ve been reassessing the way I live with the internet. I am, as I’ve often said, a fan. It’s brought me so much that has enriched my life and I hope it will long continue to do so. I love the way it has empowered people, women, to talk about their lives, dreams, plans and to take action, supported by the kindred souls they’ve met online.

But I think I’ve been doing it wrong.

Not long ago I read The Element  (if you haven’t, do) and found that in the last 12 months I’ve rediscovered my element but not my medium. I’ve been thinking that the internet was my medium. Now? Not so much.

There are thousands of women out there who have found a way to come alive online and also make a living out of it. Which is awesome. Because I wanted so badly to be home with my child and my partner and my dogs and the pesky chooks and the land, and because I’ve previously made a living out of print journalism, I thought that somehow blogging could help me do it. While still providing me with an outlet for my inner voice. I thought it was my medium.

Somewhere I lost the balance. Instead of living my life and blogging about it for pleasure, I started to live my life around what I wanted to blog. What would fit the vibe of the blog, what would look lovely, read well, be honest and true but also fit the ‘niche’. I guess eight years in marketing can do that to a woman. Especially a woman with a need to be free from the shackles of a desk job. I was searching for my authentic voice and in doing so, lost it and without authenticity, nothing really ‘sticks’. And on the internet, time slips away in a fashion that is so seductive to an arch-procrastinator like me. Put that all together and you have me, trying and trying to find something that was maybe never there. Trying to force something that was never going to happen and having a great time doing it with lots of fatuous reasons to keep on doing exactly what I was doing – wasting time.

At some point last week, after spending time thinking about who I’d be without my story (haven't read it but the question is a great prompt) and about what rules I’d set on my life without even realising it, I thought, “What would I do if the internet broke? What if there was no blogging? No Twitter?” and immediately I felt something deep inside me say, “Oh thank f*** for that. Can I relax now?” swiftly followed by something on the outside of me responding with, “Wha’…wait…WTF??? I’ve been doing this for you. And now you tell me you don’t like it????”

It’s not that simple of course. I love blogging and will be doing it for a long time to come. I have some little bits and pieces that are perfect for selling online. Being here makes me happy. Blogging about life is brilliant to write and to read. But somewhere along the line I got so fixated on the possibility that the internet could be an escape route for me (to what? See, I didn't think it through.)  that I started to believe it was the only one. Now, as I step back into life, I’m beginning to hear the tired, lonely and frankly pissed off voice that’s been saying,”Step away from the computer some more, there’s something magical out here.”

As is often the way, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. I have many but there are two who seem to be in charge of this semester. First up is Clarissa Pinkola Estés and WWRWTW is the best text book ever. I’ve just finished reading the chapters about relationships and applying her wisdom not only to mine with Charlie, but also to mine with my spirit.

Then along came teacher #2. I wandered into a second hand shop and found, leaping out of the shelf into my hand, Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s The Invitation. I’ll confess, in the past her name has been enough to have me walk away but someone I love and trust, loves and trusts her so I brought it home.

I found that, of the many things it is, for me it’s a workbook for someone looking again for their path. Who thinks they may have taken a wrong turn, even if it was off the right road. It’s far more down-to-earth and real than I’d been expecting. Oriah talks about being exhausted from trying. How she longed to just stop trying to be someone (not someone else, just someone), something, somewhere. That was when I heard the echo of my spirit saying, “Can I relax now?” That was when all the thoughts I’d been having for the past few weeks revealed a pattern.

I’m crap at this anyway. I like to change my blog all the time. I post every day for a fortnight and then nothing for a couple of weeks. I join in with blogging groups and weekly prompts and last about 10 days. Look at all the pro-blogging tips and I do precisely none of them. I’m rubbish at marketing myself and not because I’m not authentic but because I am. Authentic me changes. Authentic me is a shapeshifter and that's wonderful unless you want to build an online persona because, er, where’s the brand consistency? Ha. See? Wrong. Bloomin’. Medium.

So. There. This probably means very little in terms of this blog. I’ll still do random posts and photos but now I won’t beat myself up over it. I'll be here a lot and telling you everything, then I'll be away and not really saying anything at all. I’m going to stop dreaming of being in the Olympics when I’m rubbish at sports. I’m going to be kind to myself and stop worrying about whether my day is a potential blog post or if it fits in with Tambourine Tuesdays or Witty Wednesdays. I’ll be reading them of course for verily, I loveth them. I’m just going to stop trying and resume the search. Maybe backtrack a bit and see what I've dropped along the way. I am, as Lady Dolly of Parton once said, going to find out who I am and do it on purpose. Only this time I’m going to stay way more open to possibility. I’m excited.

Last night I dreamt of comets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Norman Conquest

Fear, self-doubt, imposter syndrome, inadequacy…you know the sort of thing I’m talking about. The feelings that stop you – me – from following our intuition and our ideas. These feelings, I’ve decided, with some advice and prompting from literary wise women, are the life blood of our inner critic and in order to fight back I have to give him a face and name.

Knowledge is power and now that I know him I can whip out my wild woman superpowers and kick his arse.

He looks like this only more weasley.

 

His name is Norman (apologies to any cool Normans out there but me and your name have some history and it really works for me).

Frankly Norman, you’re a joke.

While I wasn’t changing the locks on old Normy this weekend I was busy thinking about how I could help myself, and maybe others, remember their wildness. These are what I came up with.

They’re prototypes, unvarnished and unpackaged as yet, but they will be available before long. They’re Norman’s kryptonite (although I don’t recall him ever looking good in a leotard and tights).

Happy Monday

x

Shapeshifter

When I decided on the name for this blog I finally felt as if I’d hit upon The One. God knows I’ve had enough blogs over the years but with Shapeshifting I knew I’d pretty much hit the nail on the head. I do what it says on the tin.

At first it was about the way I flit from idea to shiny new idea, place to online place, topic to fascinating topic but – as I’ve become more grounded over the last few months, more confident in maybe holding some space – it’s become more important than that. Far more profound.

I’ve always had a powerful connection with the natural world – I know this because we all have and why would I be different? There have been times in my life when my awareness of the connection has been strong, others when I’ve strayed away from it and suffered as a result.

Aspects of animism play a huge part in my spirituality along with a belief in signs, totems and the lack of any real separation between life forms. Living where I now do, it’s impossible to look away from this; impossible to ignore the fact that we are connected to everything and as much as I’ve paid it lip service in recent years, I think I have been in denial or at least too distracted to take these beliefs further.

Now it’s happening. Now I’ve re-established that communication and it’s very empowering. As a tool for day-to-day, honesty and strength it’s unbeatable. I feel as if I’ve been given a big bag o’superpowers and then told that it was in the back of my wardrobe all along (on the corner of Narnia and 80s Jacket).

Remember WWJD? I know it’s been lampooned by many, hijacked by many more and no, it’s not my path but I can see that as a way to keep yourself aligned with your beliefs and ethics, it’s a good one. That’s how I feel about shapeshifting, that you can connect to what someone/something else would do; what qualities and strengths they would use.

For me it’s about opening up that connection between me and an animal or tree or whatever. It’s not about becoming a fox or a songbird or a willow tree, it’s about recognising that we are separated only while we choose to be. Let’s face it,  life is simpler and more efficient when we stay with our ego and our body. It’s like the difference between being naked and dressed. Most of the time, jeans and a t-shirt are a big plus. But we can dissolve the barriers and tap into the collective strength of Life whenever we like.

I would argue that we do it unwittingly whenever we’re ‘in the zone’ anyway. I’m interested in developing my ability to do it consciously.

That’s what I’m thinking about today - my path and those with whom I share it. How Life is our common language.

Happy Friday.

x

He knows what I'm talking about.

 

 

Wild at heart

I'm revisiting, after a lot of years, Clarissa Pinkola Estés's Women Who Run With The Wolves and oh good grief, this time it's personal.

I only got as far as the third page of the intro before I cried.

Although I did not call her by that name then, my love for the Wild Woman began when I was a little child. I was an aesthete rather than an athlete, and my only wish was to be an ecstatic wanderer. Rather than chairs and tables, I preferred the ground, trees and caves, for in those places I felt I could lean against the cheek of God.

Substitute hedge for cave (we don't have many caves in Wiltshire) and Nature for God (I had no awareness of who or what God was supposed to be until I was way older) and that is me. Finding a personal truth like this is one of the few things that get me instantly doing the squirty tears thing. The last time it happened was during the meditation I did for Susannah's Inner Sage exercise. Similar trigger. Big, spontaneous, snotty tears. Tender, this inner wild woman.

If I'm supposed to be de-cluttering my mind, body and spirit, I need to get away from the computer and outside a lot more.  We are all so stir crazy after the cold, cold winter and so ready to get back into the fresh air.

I have veg beds to plan, flower beds to create for bees and butterflies, chicken coops to build and of course my dogs (and me) to get back into shape. Evie needs more exercise and time spent outside. I'm looking forward to introducing her to my old friend, the Wild Woman and in the meantime, 'ecstatic wanderer'... how purely beautiful is that concept?

I think I'll dwell on that a while.

This is it. Promise.

I'm not quite done with the set up yet.

I'm still processing and most of it can and should stay in my head but some of it needs to be explained before things change here too.

Also there are things I can talk about now that I couldn't before.

Charlie has been home for nearly five months, I mentioned that. He was off work with stress-related depression. Twenty years ago he signed up to work for an airline as cabin crew because it meant he could go birding (birdwatching) all over the world for free. The job was so-so, he was promoted, conditions changed, blah blah blah and now the job is rubbish. Well-paid rubbish for those who signed contracts decades ago, but rubbish. Unbelievably stressful mentally and physically. Especially physically. Twenty years of jet lag is an evil thing.

But it has brought us a small amount of financial stability. Not a lot, but some. It has allowed me to work part-time through Evie's preschool years. It has allowed us to move here. And it's been living here that has led Charlie to a place where he can no longer spend seven months of the year in a plane or hotel. 'Right there in your back yard' etc etc.

These last few months have been very hard. For Charlie but also for Evie and me. For Evie, life changed enormously, hot on the heels of a house move and temporary reunion with her twin sister. For me, I came here to the place I love most of all - this healing, special place that nourishes me - and then believed we would lose it and everything we'd built.

I work things through inwardly and bide my time. I believe that things work out in the end and that sometimes you just have to put your head down, grit your teeth and get through the bad days but it got harder and harder to do as I sank into my usual winter blues. Yeah, we were The Happy Family.

Charlie sought help and got it and eventually it had an effect. He has risen to the huge challenge of sighting his dream life - the life he both deserves and has to have for his own health - and going after it. He has moved personal mountains and achieved great things. The path to this new life is now clear, if still quite long.

I have fought my own internal battles (always internal with me) and firmly believe it contributed to my weakened immune system and endless sickness and fatigue. But mostly I locked myself into position and tried really, really hard not to move (I am a Taurean after all). Fought with all my might to stay in my comfort zone where I had the freedom to float about a bit ...flitter ...dream ...procrastinate. Lucky me.

Finally now I think I'm learning the meaning of surrender. Give up that comfort zone and something more precious, vital and important will follow. Let go of my utter devotion to independence (that ironically allowed for financial dependence) and acknowledge that you are in nothing alone. You are never and can never be unchanged by the influences at work in the lives of the ones you love.

Am I making even the slightest amount of sense? It doesn't feel as if I am.

Here I am. Looking at a better, brighter, more meaningful future for our family than I imagined in our 3 Year Plan. Or maybe I imagined it but was so deep in the habit of not bringing things to reality that it never occurred to me that it might actually happen. Or that when it started to happen it would be difficult and painful and stressful and oh...by the way, freaking MAGICAL.

Because life is. Magical. And I've learnt that magic is an organic, messy, smelly thing sometimes. And it's viral.

Remember my crappy immune system? Uh huh, couldn't withstand the magic either. But it's changing me beyond my control. I have no say at the moment so I'm just letting the shapeshifting happen. I feel skins shedding and (this may be the week off and the sunshine speaking but I'll go with it) it's kind of exciting.

My name is Jo and I'm a control freak. I like to be in control of my surrender. Heh. And this time I can't be. I just read Ken Robinson's The Element and found that I think I know my element, but not my medium. Maybe I'm being led to that medium now. I hope so.

In the meantime, with regard to my last post, I'm getting started on decluttering myself.

Vegan breakfast.

And today's head-clearing exercise will be following the lead of Rachelle and Tracie and taking a long hard look at my online time. I not only spend too much time faffing about (and not all social networking is faffing, I remain a huge fan) but I also spend to much time comparing myself to others and feeling inadequate or distracted or influenced or wistful.

So I'm off to clear out Google Reader and Twitter. Not because of any disaffection for the people involved, but because if anything I love them a little bit too much.

That's my Friday. Thanks for reading. How's yours?

Still here

So where to start?

Here's the thing: Spring is coming and I'm getting all powered up with thoughts and ideas and about 10 days ago I thought to myself,"Hey, I should blog this on Shapeshifting."

Then we got hit with WinterMalaise.04

Or, more specifically, Evie did. Major growing pains at night - or Restless Leg (thanks for the tip on that Carrie) or something. No sleep for any of us. I'm talking awake until 4am.

In the fleeting moments where I had lucidity and space for thinking about something other than staying awake and/or holding down a job, the things I'd been mentally chewing on went supernova and suddenly I felt as if I had a whole book to write, forget the blog post. But can I get to it? No. Not yet. And I'm having to be alright with that. Maybe even - gasp - mentally edit down that book to a few good blog posts.

So...nothing on Evie's blog because she's been suffering and to add insult to injury I packed her off to nursery today, dressed in red and reciting 'Xin Nian Kuai Le' and it's not new year until NEXT week. Put another fiver in the therapy jar. Last Friday I got pulled aside by the nursery owner because Evie had said a (not very) rude word at Circle Time. This week it'll be because of Parental Cultural Idiocy. Wicked \m/.

I got The Weekly Bean up on Wag Bark Love but my plans for cranking things up there have gone the way of everything else this past week.

And yet, I feel inspired by the lighter afternoons, the snowdrops, the rediscovered life in Charlie's eyes after his personal long, dark Winter and, just yesterday, by standing deep in the magic of a pine wood.

The tall trees all whispering the same language, all singing the same ancestral songs that I could hear only inside my head reminded me that I am small, my life is small, my worries are small. But the strength to be found in connection with the natural world is vast.

And that's a good place to end. I'll pick up right here when I can. So much more to say.

Happy Friday (,Saturday and Sunday)

x

First retreat, then leap forward

I think I'm the only one of us who hasn't posted about the weekend. They said it all.

It's insane but I feel changed. Always a bit of a lone she-wolf, suddenly I'm craving the company of my female pack. That's huge for me. Huge.

Thank you my lovelies. I really do love you all.

Retreating - morning from Jo H. on Vimeo.

The glow lingers after time spent with Susannah, Lisa, Emma, Megg, Leonie and Penny.

Gone magic-making. Back soon.

A couple of weeks ago a friend and I were comparing memories of having our first reiki attunement. We agreed that one thing is almost guaranteed, your life is going to turn upside down.

In my case it wasn't pretty. It was 11 years ago and the friend I'd been sharing a house with (her house) for six years fell further into her alcoholism and got nasty. Twice she stood outside my room door in the night and threatened to kill me. She was holding a big knife at the time so I wasn't too happy. I took to sleeping in my clothes, shoes too, and twice legged it past her passed out body into the night with Nell under my arm. Then a couple of weeks later the PR firm I was working for was sold and we were unexpectedly made redundant overnight. Turned into work. Sent home. Home with the alcoholic.

Not long ago I started listening to Fabeku Fatunmise. Not content with feeling 'stuff shift', with seeing it rise like silt to my surface, one night I decided it might be a good idea to combine the soundtrack with a reiki self-treatment. Immediately that old inner voice said,"Woah there, you should know that if you do this it's a powerful combination. You do know this. You know this'll cause all sorts of crap to happen." I knew. I thought I was ready. I thought it would be cool.

It's not.

It's so not.

It seems that whether it's connected or not, I've hit the SAD wall at top speed. Actually that's wrong, not top speed, a crawl. I already had three flat tyres.

Charlie is not well and is struggling with his own stuff. We're trying to find a way forward with that and we will but it's not easy. Doable. Just not easy. And these short days take my strength and my energy and my motivation. As I lay in bed - on a work day - this morning I realised how much I have let everything slide. The house is a mess, my work is not getting as much attention as it should, my health isn't either. Our diet as a family has become 'convenient' but not nourishing in any way. My dogs aren't getting the exercise they need even at their advanced ages. My garden looks neglected even for this time of year. I'm not even blogging so it's not an interweb issue. Most importantly, the relationships between any permutation of our family of three are strained. Still filled with love, but strained. I see all this and all I want to do is crawl under a duvet and hide. There is too much to worry about. Too much at stake. Too much that I can't control or fix.

The meds I take to deal with my seasonal ups and downs are working but not as they should given that the strain is greater than normal. The lack of daylight and serotonin is playing havoc with my ageing hormones and I get weeks of PMS and killer migraines. And now stress headaches too. Woo hoo.

But this is not a poor me post. I have a doctor's appointment made. I'm going to be gentle on myself and my family and try to ease us back to health. 

The holiday season is not far off and then I have 12 days without work. I have the new year to  look forward to and it's looking like being a great one. I love the reassessing and reaffirming that comes at this time of year. I love xmas with my sweet girl who needs her mummy and daddy to be happy and strong.

I'm going to take a web break. Not because it's taking too much of my attention because it isn't. I just want a break and I've been sort of taking one anyway. I'm going to check my mail as little as possible. Try to stay away from everything else until January. I may change my mind next week but today I think not. Today I think it'll be fun to come back all fresh in three weeks.

Back to 1998...

The redundancy money I received gave me the deposit on a flat. A garden flat where I could get another dog. Jackson. My ex-boss took me on as a freelance features editor/writer working from home. I found my way back to the life I should have been leading before things went crazy a few years earlier. I found happiness on my own and that gave me the strength I have today. The upheaval was tough but ultimately it brought me things I'd always wanted and needed.

I'm going to trust that this will happen again. Back when I was running scared at 2am I ran here to GC where we live now. My mother lived up here then and the manor and its grounds were my sanctuary. When I needed a new home I tramped around one of the estate fields with Nell, chanting affirmations that came absolutely true. I'm in the right place to make some magic happen for my family. And this time I know what I'm doing.