shapeshifting

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

 

 

 

 

 

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:

"What would River Song do?".

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.

 

 

 

Great week off. Great. And now I'm back at the project. The project where I get myself into shape so that I can hit 50 with a big old smile on my face.

So many things to sort out, so many challenges. I want to avoid using this blog as therapy - god knows I've done enough of that in the past and yay for that - but I do want to journal life. Keep a record. Be able to map my progress.

Here are the basics:

 

Health

I'm great at the cerebral and spiritual stuff. My introversion means I'm a lifelong devotee of contemplation. In another life I would have made an awesome monk. The physical stuff, not so much. Despite years of training, practice and experience my poor body has been ignored in recent years. Communication has stopped at my neck. I'm reopening the channels and asking for forgiveness from my body. We're reuniting. I'm fully planning on being able to stop referring to my body in the third person.

This means more of the same spiritually but also exercise and nutrition...nutrition is huge, grounding. All round love of my temple, man.

 

Activism/service

I work for a charity/non-profit. I love my job, despite it being in the often dull but essential fundraising/marketing department. I know that people make a difference. I know that in the right hands an online petition is a powerful political tool. I know that your £3 a month really DOES help. I know social media has revolutionised this area of work.

I can't afford to give much money - although I will always find some. I don't have a lot of time. I can do a lot of awareness-raising and spreading of online words. I tend to hold back because I've feared my interweb friends will find it boring or intrusive or offensive. Well you know what, there's a lot of really offensive stuff out there that's more important. So if you see me having a rant or asking for a signature and it ruffles your feathers and annoys you...move along. I'll be back to the other stuff in just a moment. I'll not be pointing fingers at anyone I know, I'll be turning a light on some dark places. Look away if you like. That's your karma, this is mine.

Maybe I'll separate it out somehow...another Twitter feed or something.

 

Money

Because, yes, not so much with the financial good sense or attitude. Abundant thinking has not been my friend. But I'm shaking that up and telling myself that money is not the root of all evil, it is A Good Thing and I am more than capable of making some. Seriously, I'm rubbish at this stuff and I'm buried deeeeeeep in impoverished thinking in so many ways. My values are screwed. No more. Business is fun. Money to survive is even more funnerer.

 

Walking softly on this earth

Yeah that. Too big to put into a paragraph here but I've got to walk the soft walk. It matters to me that we think humans have dominion. We do not.

Parenting

Huge. Massive. Every child is special and brings their unique blessings and challenges. My child was adopted transracially, transculturally and without us knowing that she had been separated from her identical twin who now lives on the other side of the planet. Oh and she's five, brilliant, funny, stubborn as all hell, opinionated, confrontational and has a heart the size of a planet.  I don't always rise to the challenges with compassion, grace and/or intelligence. I want and need to. Love is always there but contrary to the lyrics of a popular song, it is not all you need. We made decisions on her behalf when she was too young to have an input. I need to stand up and be the parent she deserves and she deserves the best. I'm not talking perfect - oh please, parenting is bloody hard work a lot of the time - but I could do way, way better than I do.

 

And just to prove I'm not entirely made of wannabe-worthiness...

My appearance

Let's see...my skin, my hair, my body shape, my weight...the whole deal. Because this last couple of years have aged me and turned me into a mess and once upon a time I was quite hot. I'd like to be a quite warm 50 something. I'm very okay with that.

 

So that's the project. I think. It will change and so will I; I think I've established that pattern at least. But I want to try to have some kind of North Star to guide me on the days when I'm floundering and bad-tempered and frustrated and comfort-eating and full of a desire to run away with the circus. Actually I'd like a whole lot less of those days. That would be a good result.

If you're making or experiencing changes or have made them and now live the way you've always thought you could; if you have your own 'project' or dream, leave me a comment or a link. I'd love to know more about you.

x