shapeshifting

Keeping it real. If you're going to turn your life around and write about it then you need to keep it real or that writing means nothing.

So in that spirit I will tell you that yesterday was a bad, bad day. Maybe it's resistance, maybe it's circumstances, whatever. The upshot was that I lay awake at early o'clock feeling like every haggard, worn-out, worn-down, 40something woman you've seen in the street and read as having been seriously disappointed by life. It wasn't pretty.

This morning I was dreading going to see the Beagles after two weeks, fairly certain that the lump I'd found on one of them was terminal and maybe she'd even be gone already. The skies opened on my journey there and I had no coat. I work outside for half my time with them. It was just the last bloody straw on top of a whole load of straws that I'm not going to list here.

Fortunately I was able to call on something inside. Yes, with my reiki healing and communing with nature and animal spirit guides and woo-woo up the wa-zoo I did what any wild, barefooted woman would do. I took a deep breath and asked myself:

Cos I'm all deep 'n' shit.

The thing is, it may sound silly but that silliness makes me want to kick some arse, namely mine, and that drive is something I can lack at times. I need firing up and a time-travelling, Time Lord-loving, gun-toting, fez-shooting, hypnolipstick-wearing Space Hottie in her 40s inspires me and restores my sense of humour. Whatever works, eh?

Turned out, Tash's lumps are benign and she's in good shape. The Beagles' people were pleased to see me and gave me lots of young tomato plants to bring home. I stayed indoors and bathed all the dogs which was a great excuse for extra cuddles. Beagle Therapy is pretty special and although I still got soaked at least the water was warm.

I also spent an hour on my mobile phone, in Sainsbury's car park (I know, can you even cope with the glamour?), putting worlds to rights with Susannah who was in need of a rant. I know that if you read a certain type of blog, you'll see Susannah's name all over the place because she's awesome but I'm going to tell you that actually...she's way more awesome than that. And she makes me laugh.

I got home and whipped up a glass of green juice that flooded my system with life and goodness (I mistyped that as 'goodnews', that too). Sigh. Greeeeeeen.

There is sunshine outside and that's where I belong so I'm off. I just want to say that if you try to turn things around then you're going to have bad days when you have to look those things in the eye. No more evasion, you have to know their name to say goodbye. That takes strength that sometimes can be hard to muster. I think calling on your favourite shero is a very acceptable way to kick things into action. Who's yours?

*that would be her standard opening line.

Valerian in known for its calming properties, soothing anxiety and balancing moods. We have a lot of valerian growng in our garden and I can verify that I never feel anything but calm out there. Of course we also regularly have seven Jimley Jackdaws on the bird table, a bunch of silly chickens, sunbathing dogs and a small child showing an unreasonable amount of talent at kicking a ball. What's to worry about?

This gets better.

Monday I woke up with a migraine. Welcome to my week off. Took a pill. Sometimes the pill just zaps out the migraine and I can function pretty much at full capacity. Sometimes the pill acts almost like an anaesthetic and I'm not really safe to be on my feet. As the pill is a constant, I guess what's happening neurologically in my body must change. Migraine takes many forms even in one person.

So there I am, not yet aware that I'm about to fall into a semi-coma. I have to meet my mother at the local Te3co Superstore (see H for Hell and Holidays), along with Evie and my 5 year old nephew who is lovely but all slugs and snails and hyperactive puppy-dogs' tails. She has some clothing vouchers that she wants Evie to benefit from and frankly, we can't afford to say no. Staying upright and responsible uses all my energy so I'm snappy and impatient. I drive home (I know, I know) and then it hits me full on. I go to bed for one, maybe two hours.

Later I try to download some photos from the weekend - and there are some lovely ones among them - and also, as it happens, the photos I took of Casey on his last day. Just before we headed off to the vet.

Something's wrong with the flash card. I can't copy them off it. I try everything, every method. Even data recovery software. Nope. They're there on the card but I can't have them.

Evie has reacted to the sunscreen she wore on Sunday. She has a livid, itchy eczema all over her face and neck, poor kid.

Charlie's boss comes over for the End of Trial Period Review. When he leaves we're down an income. Face-to-face charity recruitment is a tough game - sales of a worthy product maybe, but a luxury product all the same and this area is just being really hit by the downturn. Targets are nigh on impossible to meet. Charlie tried really hard. They don't care that this could mean we have to move to a one-bedroom flat in a rundown market town. Why should they? Most of the team he trained with have also lost out.

Tuesday means another pill but luckily no coma as I'm working with the Beagles. Since the death of their lady owner/breeder her husband and son (ages, I'd guess, 90 and 60) have soldiered on with my help once a week. They can't manage and so some dogs have been rehomed. They'd said goodbye to sweet Z a couple of weeks ago. Today I go in to find that one of my favourites, lovely T has gone to a new home and the grand old lady Beagle, D, has gone to be reunited with her owner. At 15, she faded out the way Casey did. So we're down to just four Beagles. Four sad Beagles. P, especially, has not recovered from the loss of her human. Today she comes and sits next to me - not on my lap as usual but just next to me. A sad little girl, leaning against me with a sigh. She is still much loved - I think she was a favourite of her owner and so husband and son are particularly attached. I think that T and D leaving has been a bit too much for her. I reiki her while we sit in the sun and she tells me about her sadness.

At home I hear from my sister that the two big employers in our neighbouring town - the two call centres that pretty much saved a generation from disaster when they opened in the late 90s - are closing. We will be flooded with young men and women with young families and mortgages and debt, looking for the few jobs there are available. One of them will be my sister.

Today, after a quick trip to the supermarket brandishing vouchers and reward points, I pick up Evie's best friend and bring them back here. Giggling, shrieking happy girls. I don't care that they're 'making potions in the bath' or destroying some part of the house...just let them be happy. I'll clean up later. While I'm out, the vet calls. Casey's casket has arrived back. Do I want to go and collect it? Well yes, but there's the small matter of having to settle the bill and I have £3 in my bank account. So he's sitting on a  shelf waiting for me to get my working tax credits so that I can pay to have him home with me.

...

Y'know what? I don't want to live my life like this anymore. I'm am so, so literally sick and tired. I'm done with this. I live in a beautiful place and I have so much that I am deeply grateful for but I am guilty of using it as a distraction. It is the opium of this person. I have to break the habit.

...

When I think about how put things right my brain engages and then fails. I know myself to be smart and resourceful and inventive but I got nothing. The very thought of trying again just makes me fall over. Oh I have ideas. Anyone who reads this blog will know I'm always having A Great Idea but now...now I feel paralysed by it all.

And so there is only one thing to do.

Surrender. Give it up. Let go. There is a real sense of things falling away without me even having to actively release them. They are not being 'taken', they are just falling away and I think that might be okay. I understand that it has to happen.

What I need to do is return to the practice I started at the beginning of the year. Healing, meditation, acceptance and space-clearing. Once that space is clear from anxiety and panic - even for a sweet moment of respite - I can hold it open for what comes next. It will come and so will my strength but for now it's just acceptance and practice. Easy to say.

Most of all, knowing that I'm done with the distraction of beauty (not the beauty itself, just the abuse of it), I'm ready to live my life the way I want to. The way I have to.

Part of that is writing about things that matter to me knowing that some readers will a) think I've finally snapped or b) laugh or c) both the above. But I'm done caring about other people more than I care about me. So I'm going to tell you that on Tuesday night I tuned into a drum and journeyed to meet my spirit animal. She's a young wolf and her name, she tells me, is Divna. We met some time back. I thought maybe her name was Irish but looking it up I find it's Hungarian for beautiful. She's certainly that and she's certainly a European wolf. This night I wait for some heavy answer to my questions but she starts dancing. And it's funny. She looks ridiculous and she's doing it on purpose. She's telling me to laugh. I see her dancing painted in broad strokes with energy shining from it

....

I've been trying, in snatched moments to return to Kathleen Dean Moore's Wild Comfort. I read half of it a month or more ago and now I'm back. On Monday I picked it up and randomly opened a page. Now, when I do this I don't usually get some profound sign, I get an advert for dentures or double-glazing. Sorry but it's true. I don't generally have good random-page-mojo but I did this day. This is what I read:

When you die, it's done, the chance is gone. So when you live? When you live, make it all. Don't wait for the rain to stop. Climb out of your tent with your mind engaged and your senses ablaze and let the rain pour into you. Remember: you are not who you think you are. You are what you do. Be the kindness of soft rain. Be the beauty of light behind a tall fir. Be gratitude. Be gladness.

Ever since, like a mantra, I hear, "You are not who you think you are. You are not who you think you are. You are not who you think you are..." and I may well still be curled up in my tent, but I'm looking out on a whole new landscape.

Chicka meets Idgie and Ninny at their front door.

See the beautiful blue/greens? Chicka likes to perch. They're perchers, this family.

MeiMei - always moving. Little Brown Hen. Sweetie.

The Flag of Chicken Nation from an original design by Evie.

Sweet MeiMei lays blue eggs. This was her first one for us.

Late afternoon. Horses in the field = Nell on a lead. #herder

I look at this and a sob explodes in my heart. Is he not perfect and wild and beautiful still?

When, hot on Christchurch's exhausted heels, came the Japanese earthquake and tsunami, the daily details of my life seemed trivial.

It sounded so trite to talk of human spirit and positivity and I winced at tweets and status updates and blog posts (including mine) about pretty stuff and meals eaten and the ever-expanding mass of How To Be Awesome Because You're Not Now e-courses.

Then I got my head out of my backside.

One thing I've learned from the less easy parts of my history is that we all deal in our own way. We each have our role to play in a dark time and thankfully, some of us are light-carriers; the ones who sensitively and with much love, ease us forward into moments of levity and flight.

Having remembered this, I was overwhelmed with appreciation for a) the light-carriers around me and b) my own ability to carry a torch for life. The little things may not appear to matter some days - and of course there are bigger priorities at times - but they do matter. They are the tiny steps that build a path to better times, to the future. And besides, I may feel sympathy and compassion but how exactly has my life been affected by these disasters? It hasn't. I'm lucky and it's supremely tasteless to wallow in another's pain.

So...to this future...I have another job to add to my portfolio. Back in November I interviewed for, and got, what seemed to be an ideal job for me. They told me that the work probably wouldn't start until Christmas but the job seemed worth it. So here we are in mid-March...nothing. Not even an email to say,"Sorry this has happened." I've chased them a few times and got fluffy, empty responses but I'm not doing it anymore. Let's leave that there shall we?

In the meantime of course I've been Beagling. I replied to an advert in my local paper that offered work with dogs. I found out later that the day I called was the day their owner died unexpectedly. I found out even later what an extraordinary woman she was (read the second part). Her dogs are wonderful and I love them; her husband and son are great people. Working with the Beagles reminded me how I love to be physically busy and how everything is better when there's a dog involved. So this week I emailed a company who do dog-walking, dog day-care, pet-visiting and so on. Their regional organiser came to see me yesterday and despite having CaseyCat do his usual "I will seduce you by head-butting your face again and again and again and then I will sit on your paperwork and dribble" routine, she offered me a job. A job I can do whenever I have time. I can keep my deskjob three days a week, and the Beagling, and do this other stuff on my days off. Apparently demand is high at weekends.

I will get to be outdoors and busy and with dogs and paid and we will get to stay clear of the Poorhouse. I'd toyed with the idea of doing this kind of work for myself a while back but seriously, in this situation the company takes care of all the admin and the booking and the insurance and the terms and conditions and contracts and security and advertising and marketing (although I can be paid to plug us too if I so wish) and I still make pretty much what I'd've been able to charge as a one woman start-up. I figure I can do it through the spring and summer and come the wetter, muddier, colder months, if I lose my enthusiasm I can find something else. But I think I'll probably just keep going if the work is there.

I have paperwork to complete and a client waiting already. Perfect for a terrier lover like me.

This has happened since I decided to back off and let me be me. Stop trying so hard. Just 'let the soft animal of [my] body love what it loves'. In the days since, I have been happier, more creative, more at peace than I have been in a long time.

So that's my little bit of light for today. What's brightening your day?

x

This weekend was brought to us by potato printing and branch weaving. Evie wasn't feeling 100% but she managed to bake some Play-Doh and print with some potatoes. I'd hoped she'd do some making of patterns and be all inspired but she's so tired bless her. I ended up doing the carving while she painted and stamped and had way more fun doing the washing up before retiring to the sofa to crash out. The child needs some sleep.

On a mission for supplies, I brought home these branches to try my hand at weaving on them. I particularly love the smaller ones with the beautiful lichen but, as I wove happily away last night, watching the increasingly dark Being Human out of one eye, I found that most of that lichen ended up in my lap. This is how we learn.

It felt good to be making something. Once I've had a practice run I want to weave something beautiful for the wall. Just because.

x

Thank you all for diving in on my rant yesterday; it seems I am not alone! I do hope I didn't come across as ungrateful. I'm profoundly aware of how good a life I have with my home, my family (need I add that I include 2 and 4-legged members?), my life in nature that nourishes me. I love and deeply appreciate their presence in my life.

There is a part of me that is unfulfilled and becoming increasingly stroppy about it. I swing between feeling guilty for wanting (even) more and feeling guilty for feeling guilty for wanting (even) more. Why shouldn't I want more? Because I have so much already. But why shouldn't I want more? Because...yadda yadda yadda. Dizzy.

Yesterday afternoon we got some sunshine and I went out with Nell and Jackson. We walked down a long narrow-ish field towards the Withy Bed, the old local name for the willow copse. In the field above us, farmers were turning over the earth and spreading manure, a practice that always brings in the birds. Where there are small birds there are bigger birds and when there are thermals, those bigger birds will be buzzards.

This picture of a Chalfield buzzard (maybe even one of those I saw yesterday) was taken by Charlie.

I once thought I'd seen five together, usually the most would be three at once, but yesterday there were nine. NINE. Possibly even ten. All soaring on the warm air in a bright blue sky, distinctive calls ringing across the fields. Pure magic.

We walked back along towards home and as I got to the gate - some distance from where I'd stood and watched the birds - I noticed one had followed us. I stood and looked up as it came closer and closer before circling a while over my head. It clearly took a good long look and then flew off. I've never been so close to one of these beautiful birds before.

Looking up the symbolism of the buzzard it became clear that there is a difference between UK and US terminology. In the US a buzzard is usually included with vultures; here it's a hawk. So I focussed on hawks and found this:

Intuitive ability to discern the message and seek the truth is one of Hawk’s powers that he imparts to humans. He teaches people to provide for self and family. Another lesson is to be observant and pay attention to what might be overlooked, possibly a talent unused, a blessing for which gratitude hasn’t been given or a message from spirit. He teaches people they must be awake and aware. Hawk’s medicine helps people to know how to interpret messages from spirit by bestowing upon them a higher perspective so they can see details of the bigger picture. He cautions humans to times when not to take action because they don’t have all of the information we need yet.

I haven't blogged in two weeks. February is racing through with me gasping for breath behind it!

My online time has been limited to the stuff I can do with one eye on the screen and one on something else. Twitter and Pinterest are my bestest of friends right now and oh, how I love them.

My etsy orders are all up to date at last and I've listed some new little plates. I have a new idea for some special magic to add to the store but I think I have to wait until March before I'll have time to make it real. I've also learnt...have things ready before you list them.

I've also found that Reiki and I are supposed to work together for people as well as animals. In my spare minutes I've been playing with my 'front page' to reflect this change. Early days yet but I want to add much more as time goes on. The first step is to get out there and do it. Cash flow dictates my timetable with bigger projects so I have a portable couch and my insurance to cover before I'm really out there, but this will happen.

My extra day's work a week - with the Beagles of Lurve - is wonderful. It feels good to be outside doing the kennel work, keeping my body working hard while my brain takes the chance to get stuff in order. The second half of my time there is spent bathing and grooming and yes, okay, cuddling these lovely dogs. I finish, I run a couple of errands and then it's Evie's home time. The change in days I work at the office has thrown us all a bit and the question,"Wait...what day is it?" is bounced around the desks while we adjust. New rhythm is settling in though.

Through these minor changes Evie has been my priority. She's suddenly grown up a lot and with that development have come big questions about China and her birth family. Her understanding of her story has deepened - she's been told an age appropriate version of it since before she could talk -and with it has come a wave of grief. I'm not going to write about her feelings here but I can tell you mine were shaken when - as she sobbed and I rocked her to an "it's okay darling, it's okay" mamamantra - she looked at me and wailed,"But it's NOT okay Mum...its NOT okay." And no, it's not. So she reminded me of the underlying truth of our family, easily forgotten during these early innocent years, that adoption is built on profound loss. Adoption following (possibly enforced) abandonment...oy. Time for me to dust off my adoptive parent certificate (oh if only) and remember the full width of this path that we've chosen (and that she hasn't). I know our bond is strong and I think we've built strong, loving foundations around that original loss. I have healing tools that I can add to the mix and this, here in our own home, will be where they will be called on most.

Charlie spent a few days in Spain this month on a blogging gig that - I could feel his pain - also involved a large amount of birding. and just as his feet hit the ground he's off next week for two days training on a new fundraising job for the RSPB. It's half-term week so Evie has no school, Auntie has a new full-time job, Nana is not too well and already booked up with the cousins and we've been caught on the hop a bit. I foresee a bit of work-experience in charity marketing for a certain five year old. Thank goodness for an old-hippy-workplace.

So. Yes. Life! I feel as if I've been shifted into second gear after months of grinding along in first. I've found endless strength and support in Reiki, journey work, nature, family and friends to whom I owe many emails. I have so much that is precious in my life and looking after those things takes time and energy that sometimes perhaps I'd rather spend on something more about me-me-me and my personal path. Yes, life could be easier but it would be infinitely poorer too. These are the lessons for an introvert.

Are you as ready for Spring as I am?

x