shapeshifting

I'm in the habit of listening to things as I fall asleep at night. To simply relax and drift off I have the EquiSync Enlightenment. For Reiki I use Reiki Evolution meditations for self-treatment or distant healing (it's not necessary to have guidance but I find it helps me focus sometimes), and for just moving stuff out of a rut I vibe out to Fabeku's Remembering Through Resonance, an old favourite of mine.

So last night I'm away with the Singing Bowls of Awesome and easing myself out of the 'Oh god tomorrow's Monday what should I have got ready that I didn't get ready will I have time to do it in the morning crap I don't have any petrol in the car there's only a fiver in my account...' spiral. Yeah, that's the one. You know it?

I thought, for the gzillionth time,"What would I do if I really didn't have to worry about money? If I was so rich I could do whatever I wanted?" and I'll admit, I expected the same old mix of 'Save The World' and 'F*** Knows' to show up. But it didn't. Instead I started to see a huge wooden building in my garden - I say huge, I mean bigger than our little greenhouse which is titchy. It was white inside and out, big windows, full of light. Inside there was workspace to follow whatever creative whim came into my head: paint, pencil, crafting, words, animation, sewing... Whatever I felt like trying out, I could just move around this studio and find a space to do it. The endless ideas I have flowing through my head would not end up in the universal recycling bin but might actually get tried even if they were never finished. The studio was messy but not cluttered. Organised and yet not. The sun was shining and the dogs were asleep on rag rugs, soaking up the warmth. Clearest of all was the space in my head - there was an absence of pressure. Pressure to pay the rent, feed us, settle the water bill, tax the car, get Jackson's teeth checked, stay in credit, buy school shoes for Evie...money money money. Pressure. Have I mentioned my migraines?

The pressure wasn't there. There was light. And it was light. And in it I could so so many things.

So my next thought was,"I'm never going to have that kind of money." And no, let's be honest, I'm not. For all I believe in magic, I also believe that I'm never going to be a millionaire. Any more than I'm going to be a dancer on a  Madonna tour or set up an elephant sanctuary or adopt from China again. Ain't gonna happen.

And my next thought was,"What if you could be self-supporting doing that work? What if, you didn't have some mysterious external income allowing you that space BUT, it did pay for itself and the rest so that the pressure was removed another way. That, my friend, is possible. A way off...but possible. Kinda."

And that vision, as the singing bowls sang, was etched on my heart.

No doubt as the fairy dust settles I'll settle too. Somewhere in the middle with my brain pointing out that artists probably have more financial pressure to deal with than your average desk jockey. That in the absence of a lottery win I would need to have A Business. That I'm almost 48 with a five year old child and three part-time jobs.

Still - as I look forward to having five days at home in which to finish off outstanding etsy orders and list new bits and organise myself -I'm sensing that some of that vision is closer than I'd thought.

Here's to daydreams and singing bowls.

x

Have I mentioned my Pinterest addiction today?

*Name the film and character and I'll love you forever.

 

What is it about this time of year that makes us so keen to detox our bodies, our homes, our lives? Even as I attempt to avoid new year fever, I'm feeling that pull, the urge to just wipe clean the old slate and start over.

I'm not talking about a figurative lick of paint either. I mean, scraping my mental landscape clean of all the stories and assumptions and 'facts' around and with which I navigate life. What would self-inflicted, middle-term amnesia look like? Feel like?

Imagine, for example, you were a person who completely believed in astrology. You religiously read the forecasts, descriptions and advice for Sagittarius and then, decades on, you discover that the date you think you'd been born...? Wrong. You're a Virgo. (As a parent who adopted from China, I don't take the topic of inaccurate birth dates lightly, I'm just using it as a simple metaphor.)

Anyway, it looks appealing to me. If a tad impractical.

I just made the mistake (?) of looking back through my blog archives to see if I really do always sound bleak and miserable at this time of year. Along the way I started dipping into random posts and I think I'd prefer the bleak and miserable. So many posts saying,"Hey I've had an AWEsome idea...this is totally it...I found The Thing...I have A Great Plan."

Ahem.

New year can appear to hand us a clean slate but it's not easy. Those past hopes, wishes and visions can stick to us with guilt and shame and fear of failure. Unless we forgive ourselves for not seeing them through - or maybe just realise that it doesn't really matter and not getting your Etsy store off the ground three years running does not make you a bad person - we will become more and more stuck in our own emotional swamp, while our belief in our ability to get out of it slowly fades.

Depressing? Sure. Truthful? For me it is and I know it is for many of you, but given that we're not about to get our memories wiped, what do we do?

• Gratitude, appreciation for what we already have in our lives, that's good.
• Appreciating the things you have achieved (I bet there are loads), that's also good.
• Quietly taking a teeny step forwards and feeling a sense of achievement for that. Good.
• Releasing the pressure we put on ourselves to measure up to people we admire. Niiiiiice.
• Asking a trusted friend or loved one what it is that they think you're good at. And accepting their answer as a truth.

I think five things to do is enough to think about for me today. Can you think of any more?

 

Here I am. On my feet.

Those of you who read my (long since removed) post about things here at home will have been aware of the recent troubles we've had. The huge stresses we've been under.

As we reached literal breaking point I was shocked into some kind of out-of-body moment and given a new perspective. Every bone in my body was telling me, 'Run, run!' but thankfully I was able to see that my bones speak an ancient language learnt in different times. Times when yes, I was better off on my own. Always.

But now? Now is different. And the shock of the pain that was experienced by both of us was enough to crack me open. To reveal other ways of thinking.

I saw there was one thing I hadn't done. I hadn't turned breathed into the pull I was feeling in two directions. I was bracing against it and simply wanting to escape and find peace. What if, like a muscle stretches, I stretched my self? Stopped struggling, breathed and relaxed. How to do that? Well how about by finding more love? By breathing as much love into the situation as possible.

I breathed, I let the love in, I relaxed and the stretch and the peace came naturally. It was wonderful.

So we're good. Things feel good and I am reminded of many things that I had forgotten.

Then last night I heard that I'd got a job I really wanted. Not only is it a perfect fit for me but if I do a good job with it, I can replace the income we've been missing or at least return us to solvency. Being in that position makes me feel strong. It makes me realise that I had handed responsibility for my feelings of security to Charlie and although that was a mutually-agreed deal it wasn't a good one. Partly because circumstances had to change and partly because I need to be responsible for those feelings. Me. My independence is a central part of my personality but now I see that it doesn't need to come at the cost of partnership, friendship, love.

So a little job to earn some extra cash has already given me freedom and as it turns out, I think this will not be A Little Job after all.

Strength is not about opposition and defence. Power is not something that inevitably leads to abuse. I am strong when I have love in my life and my power is a force for good.

As for my lifelong dilemma...I think it may be possible to be both domesticated and wild. I'm going to give it my best shot.

 

 

 

“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”
-  Henry David Thoreau

I first read this when I was in my early 20s. I believed it then and I believe it now. I believe we all need to be the best person we can be. That we may or may not have something we were somehow predestined to do, but that we can still find something that speaks to our soul and then do it. The happiness, love and light that brings to the world is a wonderful thing. A necessary thing. While so many people will, in this life, not have the chance to fulfill their potential, those of us with a privileged existence are almost obliged to take the torch and run. Who are we not to?

This is my faith.

And I use it as my north star. Whenever I have a big decision to make I think about different drummers and I remind myself that we need to act with love and compassion. We need to create an atmosphere of support and understanding for others who may be struggling to find their rhythm and hopefully they will do the same for us. This is how we make the world a better place.

And other times I think, “Fuck this for a game of soldiers, what about ME?”

Seriously.

fallen dancer (c) Jack French

I spend so much energy pulling myself from the latter mindset to the former. Trying to be the better person. And convincing myself that this is my life lesson: to learn to care about other people, to put others first and trust that someone else will put me first and that is how we live and love together.So. Much. Energy.

I don’t want to be mean and selfish and self-absorbed and ungrateful but oh dear Universe, I am. I just fucking am. It could be hormonal it could be the scream of truth but whatever, whichever, this is my day today. My week this week. Etc etc.

Unless you are a hermit, the music you hear has to find a way to harmonise with the music of others. Some people are really good at this. They seem to be able to slip into jamming along, freestyling happily and yet still feeling their own beat. Some, ahem, are not. My odd, syncopated, insistent song mixes with great difficulty. It creates dischord on a huge scale – or rather it and Any Other Tune do, together.

Admitting this plunges me into shame. And then rather than drown in that shame I start floundering and fighting and throwing any defensive move I can and yet the outcome is the same.

I feel bad. I feel like a bad person. I feel mean and selfish and self-absorbed and ungrateful and I try to change. I bend and twist and reach to make myself bigger and better and some of it works. Some of it feels good and I know I have grown on a permanent basis and I am better but sometimes it just hurts. My heart hurts, my body hurts and my head hurts.

And the people around me hurt.

I write this for my sweet sister Lisa in honour of her Monday Me series. And I will send love into the world in the hope that it soothes us - all of us – just a little bit.