That lunar eclipse turned my brain into Spaghetti Junction last night. No sleep for the inspired. But no clear thoughts either. If I was to write a long (too long) post about my interwoven thought processes right now it would include these threads:

• Online business coaching is producing multi-levels of clones and if the only business they have is telling other people how to run their business telling people how to run their business, who is actually doing anything? Making anything? Creating anything? I see the need for business coaching and there is some incredibly inspiring, fresh stuff out there but ohmygod sometimes it's like standing in a hall of mirrors. Of course I'm not an entrepreneur and I don't need to read any of it but when it's good, it's good. I like good now. Good's cool. Cloning isn't.

• Some of us may have no urge to take over the world but we still want to be part of it. We still want to have left some small positive imprint. And look, Bindu has been reading my mind.

• 

• Being a catalyst for positive change among your immediate circle is a wonderful thing. The common ground you probably share will mean your interpretation of something is more likely to spark change than would the words of someone living an entirely different life. Why throw a whole lot of seeds on stoney ground when you can watch them thrive in your own back garden? I have been inspired to make real change by a number of close friends recently. Even though I've known for years that what they say is true, it took their voice and perspective to bring it home to me.

• Building an emotional immune system (my kind of parenting).

• Age ain't nothin' but a number. Voicing my trepidation of turning 50 in two years has made me realise that the number is simply a marker of how long I've been here. It in no way defines who I am while I'm here. I could as easily label myself as having arrived at 09.30 GMT. Who cares right? But I do think that in my mind it signifies an age at which I really should have grown up. And that's what I'm aiming for. Maturity. A smidgeon of wisdom from the many lessons I've lived through. Less manic intensity. Waaaay more serenity (no, not that one). Serenity is what I've always hoped I'd find when I grew up; I guess the unnamed project is a way for me to get there.

• I love the flavour. I'd forgotten just how much. Next year, now I know to pick before they flower, I'll be harvesting my own.

• Tasha Beagle has been rehomed bringing my charges down to three. And, with so much less to do now (there were seven dogs when I started, three have been rehomed and one passed away) I'm only going to visit them once a month. I have been given three Tuesdays a month to do something else. That's good.

• Megan Matthieson

• Restless. I'm restless. I'm getting that 'throw everything up in the air and see where it lands' feeling. I do not know if or when I'll act on that feeling. I do not know what I'd like to see in that new arrangement. I just have a feeling that there is space for something else. Something outward-facing and important to me. Something real and gritty and true.

• It may be wrapped in something imagined and shiny but still true.

• Thursday night is yoga night.

• The project...it is unnamed.

• Awesomised conversation and laughter with Susannah at Cafe Lucca. Also, standing at one of the busiest corners in Bath while she pokes her upper arm and shouts,"I mean, what the F*CK is THIS?" much to the amusement of me and many passers-by. @photobird...keeping it real.(N.B. It's perfectly normal triceps, in case you're concerned.)

• Dreaming of teaching people to fly by firing them out of massive cannons. I tried it, it was AWEsome.

 

 See? Scrambled. Good, but scrambled.

 

x

 

I owe my body a huge favour. Several. Many. I owe it. It's taken me to some wonderful places, literally and figuratively, and I'm now asking it to take me on the second half of this adventure.

Now, I want to talk.

Now, I want our relationship back.

Now, after some years of ignoring it in favour of more cerebral pursuits.

I've got some nerve.

Thankfully it hasn't packed a bag and left just yet. We're bonding over yoga and I'm treating it to daily green juice. Between you and me, I think the juice is going to swing it for me.

Here's some juicy goodness for you:

• The amazing Kris Carr's Crazy Sexy Life.
• Joe Cross and Phil the Trucker keeping it real.
• You could always Reboot Your Life.
• Pick a vegetable and read what it'll do for you.

That up there is sliced cucumber, all ready for juicing. It makes your drink quite refreshing. Mmmm.

The rain here is a good thing. We miss the hot summer days that visited in May but here we are on a grey day with rain pouring down and it's a good thing. The south-east's farmers are operating under drought conditions and here in the west we've had the driest spring in a long time. Wind and rain are not friends to chickens but my little brood have lots of shelter in their henhouse and hedges, the greenhouse and, most often, in the porch by the front door where they sit and grumble for hours on end. Idgie has been broody for about two months, causing huge problems for the other girls but this morning she got out of bed of her own accord. Maybe she likes the cooler weather. Or it makes her nesting spot less attractive.

 

 

Forward motion

• I got three clear nights of good sleep and it made a huge difference. Years of sleep deprivation, never really recouped, take their toll and turn me into a bear in dire need of a hibernation cave. I need to pay more attention to this.
• We started making big glasses of fresh green juice in the morning and I swear an effect is instant. Obviously the big things change more slowly but my body felt as parched as our garden before this rain and soaked up the goodness with a sigh of relief and pleasure.
• There's an Anusara yoga studio in the town where I work and I went with a friend from the office to the first of five introductory lessons. Loved it. The teacher is wonderful; the studio is new, beautiful and rich in nag champa, chants and chai for all. I came away stretched, challenged and filled with an inner heat I haven't felt since I was attuned to Reiki. Channels were opened, dude.
• Friends did me proud this week and I drew great pleasure from realising just how many amazing women I know who are happy to pull me back up onto my feet when I'm in a crumbled heap even as they face their own struggles. I love you.
• Fabric-shopping for my sewing commission - felt pots - was fascinating and convinced me that in some cases, vintage and repurposing is by far the best option. Ack, the prices. Felt I'll buy new but for the rest I'll go with off-cuts sold in bundles and great material found in secondhand stores.
• Talking of which, as our little cottage home overflows with my finds I've decided to put my eye to good use and start an online vintage store. I could stock it twice over right now and as soon as I have some good photos, I will.
• Finally, in the shallow department, I dug out my old hair straighteners and put them to work. My growing-out hair had reached the stage where the only respectable option was a big woolly hat and it's June so that's a problem in itself. I love how straighteners can add an inch to your hair and make it look..er..better. At least when you have hair that is not straight, not wavy, not curly, just a bit warped in places with a tendency to develop 'mushroom head' (no, that's not me).

So. There. A hard week turned out well after all and I ticked boxes on five out of six of the Project Me boxes. And seeing as I signed at least three petitions I suppose I can half tick that last one too.

Okay next week, bring it on. But if you could be dry on Tuesday morning so I can work outside then that'd be awesome. Kthxbai.

x

 

 

 

 

 

Last night I went off to my first yoga class in about 12 years (and I only did two back then) and, well, I loved it.

Naturally I have a lot to say about it. Heh.

So the woman teaching the class was very nice, slightly random - no, very random - and after telling me that I was there to just be, not do and that I should just relax, enjoy and be present (all of which I wanted to hear), tried to flog me some shampoo and body lotion. And some vitamins. I guess we all need to make a living but, er, no thanks.

It was a small class, just four as we started and twice that within 15 minutes. All but one of the other people were slightly older than me and the abilities were mixed. I decided to take it really easy, do what I could and no more. Be, not do. Our teacher was careful to tell 'new people' when to stop, to suggest rests and remind 'us' that at any time I could just stop, lie down and have a stretch.

She focused on mindfulness last night so all the way through she prompted us to, I guess, almost meditate. Focus on our breath, let thoughts come and go without latching onto them, be very aware of our body and what it was saying to us.

This was what my body and I needed: conversation. Last year, with invaluable kinesiology work, I became aware that my poor body was neglected and ignored. That I live in my head and beyond and rarely listen to my physical body even though it is wise and strong and gently holds all my experiences. Sometimes, not so gently, it throws them back at me and I don't blame it. Stretching and making physical space creates gaps for old, outdated and/or useless memories and beliefs to be looked at, recognised and released.

It's not right to talk about my body as a separate entity, obviously it's as much me as anything else, but it feels separate after so long with not talking. And frankly, it feels more natural to me to feel compassion and love for something other than my self. Which is hugely telling in itself. Baby steps...

So yes, the positive was a big positive.

I was also very aware that at no point, either in person or elsewhere, did our teacher say what kind of yoga she teaches (correction: her website says it's "based on ashtanga". Really???). Nor, except for once, did she tell us what we were doing, what the pose was called, how we should be doing it or anything else. Most of the time I was left wondering if it was actually yoga! She adjusted my posture just once (when I was lying down) and I know from my own training that some of the other people in the class were putting themselves in dreadful misalignment and at risk of injury. She also spent most of the class with her back to us in a hall with no mirrors so she had really no idea what was going on and it wasn't pretty.

I lay back and thought that one of my strong personality traits is the desire to know. I want names, descriptions, stats, projected outcomes...information. Which all boils down to a need for security. I use that information to build safety nets and walls alongside my ladders and pathways. So maybe what I should do right now is to let that need go. Try flying without the net. Leap into the unknown and see what happens. My body loved the freedom and space to just talk without me drilling instructions into it. Other things have urged me to let go and leap this week, maybe this was just confirmation.

However, I want to learn yoga and I am not going to do that in this class. And, once I give myself chance, I am pretty good at listening to my body so maybe with extra effort I could do that in another, more structured class too. Or at home. So I'm going to book in for an introductory 5 week course at a local Anusara studio, if there are still places. If I love it, great. If not, I can go back to square one or try somewhere else.

But I do know that I will be going somewhere, doing yoga somehow because that feeling, that making of space in my body...that was good.

One day.

(c) James W Vinner

 

My chickens - well, the Threadgoodes anyway - are in moult. Feathers are everywhere, making the garden look as if we've had a fox through it. We haven't. Just Mother Nature doing her thang.

The girls are a bit miserable. The changing season has thrown this at them and it's uncomfortable. There are wing and tail feathers wherever you look unless you're looking at a chicken who isn't called Mr Xanthe.

Soon pin feathers will emerge, pushing through and causing discomfort but ultimately, my girls will be beautiful on the outside again.

They are struggling and I understand. My pin feathers are troubling me too.

A C.S. Lewis quote has been doing the rounds on Twitter this week:

"You don't have a Soul. You are a Soul. You have a body."

Sorry C,  but I disagree with that second bit. It's taken me most of 2010 my life to understand it but finally I do. I am my body, my body is me. And frankly it talks a lot more sense than the flibbertigibbet mind I'm so besotted with.

And that's kind of where Shapeshifting is going.

I've written about this elsewhere but I'm bringing it here too because it's important to me.

When this photo was taken, the dog in the picture had just been pulled out of a river where she'd be thrown by her owner. He disappeared into the night but a passer-by heard the splash, found the little dog (I've seen her, she is little and probably not more than 18 months old)and called the local dog warden who managed to get close enough to catch her.

As if this wasn't bad enough, at the time she was thrown into the river she was halfway through birthing a litter of puppies. We can't know what happened to the ones already born; the ones who weren't were delivered stillborn by c-section after her rescue.

On her sweet face (and if you're one of those people who says Bull Terriers are ugly, please look again) there are bite scars. This may mean she had been used as a bait dog for a dog-fighting ring.

I've rubbed this soft nose and scratched her back. Seen her tail wag furiously and her paws do a little dance of anticipation when a familiar face approached. This turnaround is due to the care she's been given by Bath Cats and Dogs Home. They've renamed her Faith and I can't think of a better name for her.

BCDH cares for 3000 cats, dogs and other small animals a year and it costs them £3000 a day. They are remarkable people. I've been visiting the home for years and volunteered for them for a while before Evie came along. Their dedication and love for the animals in their charge is immense.

This little dog's story nearly broke my heart and made me determined to help in some way. At the same time, I've been trying to muster real motivation to shift the extra weight I'm carrying and regain my fitness.

So I've challenged myself to do two things:

1) Lose 25lbs by the end of the year. I've checked this out and it's safely doable.

2) Run 5k on the the morning of January 1st,  2011. Even with sluggish progress on Couch to 5K I can do this.

I'll be honest, this is going to be tough for me. It's only in recent years that I've had to worry about weight and fitness and worry (and eat) is about all I've done. I have a fairly active life but there's been no aerobic exercise for a looooong time. So I really need to do it and, with stories like the one above in my head, and the support of friends, knowing that I'm making positive things happen for me, for Faith and for others will keep me going.

I know times are tight, but if you can spare anything - and I mean anything - please consider sponsoring me at www.justgiving.com/johanlonmoores . If you were at BCDH right now, would you buy an animal carer who works 7 days a week on minimum wage a cup of coffee and tell her to put her feet up for ten minutes? Well now's your chance.

Non-UK residents can sponsor through the site too.

Thank you and I'll keep you posted on my progress.

He'll kill me for saying it but Charlie is 50 tomorrow. We grew up a generation who believed that 50 was 'old'. The age of grandparents and dodderiness. Now here we are with a four year old daughter, a 9 year old relationship, big dreams for our future and a belief in our own relevance.

No one can teach you about ageing when you're young. You don't get it until you've done it and seen really how little and how much it matters. There are days when you remember every moment, every lesson hard-learnt and every trouble. There are days when you feel truly above the pull of time and gravity and no, it ain't nuthin' but a number.

It is what it is. We are who we are. Wherever we stand in the picture.

With Evie starting school in 5 weeks, Charlie finally quitting the airline and mapping his path forward and me learning how to live life instead of attempting to steer it, this is a time of change for us as a family. It has been for months and months - years even - but suddenly it's starting to make sense to us. And that's good.

One thing is clear to me: in my drive to secure life around me and us I've gathered a lot of weight. In my body, my mind and my home. It's impossible to stand here now and not feel over-burdened.

First, thanks to the translation skills of my holistic therapist, I learnt again how to listen to my body which was telling me it needed to drop some serious ballast in the forms of stored memory, pain and adipose tissue. And hair. The hair goes tomorrow. Couch to 5K starts today. Eating when I'm hungry is already underway.

A more daunting project is clearing my stuff. Seriously. I'm a thrifter and a collector and that's fun but I take it too far. I see lovely things that I want to buy to sell and then I keep them and now my feng shui is seriously fenged up.

Now, I'm not about to leave my sanctuary here in Wiltshire for the coast of Queensland (except perhaps to visit with Evie's sister there) but I do dream of travelling lightly through my life. Of being able to sit still in my body without constantly having to shift to bear the weight of my stuff. So with thoughts of shedding skin already in my head and heart I was inspired by Bindu Wiles' most recent post. Synchronicities like this make me feel even more as if I took the right turn. 

You'll maybe be glad to know I've settled on a new blog design too. Although as of tomorrow - Thursday - there'll be a rather fierce-looking woman in the profile pic. Or, someone in a balaclava.

Perceptual Kinesiology recognises that there is one energy source.
The individual is a unique expression of that source.
It is through the body's senses that we perceive our own unique universe.
When our spirit actively unites with our body consciousness, then great changes can occur.

- Liz Kozlowski

The body remembers, the bones remember, the joints remember, even the little finger remembers. Memory is lodged in pictures and feelings in the cells themselves. Like a sponge filled with water, anywhere the flesh is pressed, wrung or even touched lightly, a memory may flow out in a stream.

To confine the beauty and value of the body to anything less than magnificence is to to force the body to live without its rightful spirit, its rightful form, its right to exultation.

When women are relegated to moods, mannerisms and contours that conform to a single idea of beauty and behaviour, they are captured in both body and soul, and are no longer free.

- Clarissa Pinkola Estes

When you first begin questioning your core beliefs, you don't try to fix or change or improve them. You take a breath, then you take another. You notice sensations in your body, if there is tingling or pulsing or warmth or coolness. You notice what you feel, and even if you have always called this feeling "sadness", you are curious about it as if there is no word associated with it, no label describing it, as if it is the first time you have ever encountered it. Is it a lump of blue burned ashes in your chest? Does it feel like a hole in your heart? When you notice it, does it open or change?

This kind of questioning provides a bridge between who you take yourself to be and who you actually are. Between what you tell yourself based on stories from your past and what you sense based on your direct experience now. It allows you to distinguish between outdated familiar patterns and the current, living, truth.

- Geneen Roth

Deep work requires lots of rest.

- Leonie Wise

"Our trouble is, we believe what we think."

- Liz again, in conversation.

Yesterday it was hard to wipe the smile off my face and of course, as the world spins, so does life.

The person who wanted to be my first client, cancelled. But at least it showed me how excited I got over it and now I have to replace her. HAVE to.

My big plans to beautify my home in time for weekend visitors (families with girls from Evie's orphanage) aren't getting off the ground. I can't be bothered. And, to be honest, I'm secretly quite proud of that fact. not long ago I'd've been up all night scrubbing skirting boards and repainting walls. No really. I am slightly irked that the kitchen garden looks like no one's lived here for years (and it really does) but hey, it's been raining. I can't mow grass and weed weeds in the rain. Well I could...but I'm not gonna.

I'll give the kitchen, bathroom and Evie's room (NO! DON'T MAKE ME! MY EYES!!!) a once-over tomorrow. Lick a tissue and give the dogs' faces a quick clean. I know, I know...I'm a domestic goddess.

I ate half a bag of jelly beans and now I feel like slipping into a coma. But at least I don't have a headache today and no those two things aren't correlated.

AND! My new 44" hoop arrived today and although it's only 4" wider than the one I made, it's a lot easier to spin. And thanks to HoopGirl I can just about recover a plummeting hoop before it cracks my ankles. Again.

AND.2! Someone I know and love (and who is a born hooper in my amateur opinion) met HoopGirl at the weekend and tells me she's wonderful. I feel like a teenager - two degrees of separation!

Now look. I've only gone and got all smiley again. And I haven't even started writing about my hair colour removal adventure yet.

No housework for me, I'll just point them at the view through our front door.

It struck me today that Style Statement works. Remember mine? Sacred Natural. And this week it seems I'm closer to living that than ever. It feels good.

I'm writing this as part of my 800 words for Bindu and shall be following up with some Legs Up The Wall. I know it's an easy yoga option but I'm clear about my needs at the moment and they include some rest.

I'm reading about ways to raise my spirited child and discovering that life is much easier and nicer for us now I've acknowledged the clash between her extravert nature and my introversion. If I take time to make sure both of us get what we need in terms of company and intense communication for Evie and quiet and alone time for me, then she is able to spend time alone while I do, and my brain doesn't meltdown while I play many, many games of ninja turtles or dog rescue centres (what? she's my daughter) with her.

Of course there's hooping - my newest love. It was Sara (yes she of the wonderful dreads) whose newest blog showed me the way and already I'm falling asleep visualising myself hooping. Have you seen what she can already do after SIX WEEKS??? Now I'm waiting for this to arrive tomorrow, watching the lovely AHni and Beth and knowing you don't get much more Sacred Natural than that. You know I'm going to be practising a few spins before I hit the yoga wall.

I'm still working through what happened with LK, the creative kinesiologist and things I'd long forgotten are floating to the surface. I'm drinking a lot of water and doing my energy unscrambling exercise (that I forgot to blog about but yeah). I'm doing reiki self-treatments and sifting away the crud with some cool drumming from Fabeku.

I've got some mind-blowing business advice from the former Ms Style Statement herself, now giving the world her White Hot Truth in the Firestarter Sessions, Danielle LaPorte. All thanks to my sweet Kiwi sister, Sas (watch out for her, she's about to start some big old fires of her own).

And as if to prove that all this good stuff is bringing me home, today I got my first client for Wag Bark Love. He's 14 weeks old, his name is JJ and he looks remarkably like this.

It's a dirty, sacred, natural job...but someone's gotta do it.