Too overwhelmed in mind to do much of anything this evening.
So… digging deep. To rest and recharge. And not be dragged under.
Take time if you need it, my friends. Reach out and feel the solidarity. We are still here.
A day of ups and downs. Magic, work and inspiration, as well as sharp bumps and some overwhelm…
I stepped out this evening, into the crisp night air, and felt the wind on my skin. I looked up at the stars, heard the trees whispering. The rain has finally stopped, the clouds gone.
I stand, and breathe. As I tell others to do so often. The simplest of acts – to simply step outside. Remember where you are, feel it, look with all of your senses.
The year is beginning to unfold. I am listening for what is to be heard.
I stand in my power. The peace of the winter night is welcome.
Last night at 10pm, the lights went out across the UK.
In certain regions, a call spread across news networks and social media to switch off all electric light, and instead simply have one single candle burn. This was in tribute to those who fell in World War I, which began exactly one hundred years ago.
Look up the news this morning. MPs applauding, people commenting on the darkened streets, the dramatic drop in electricity from the power providers.
Last night, a single candle burned in so many rooms. We sat quietly, each and every one of us, in that darkness held at bay by one tiny flame. Whether friend or stranger, the shared community of streets, town, counties and country joined together to remember the ancestors.
The power of darkness, of fire, of shared humanity. We remove all the noise of the modern, high-tech world and simply live, as so our ancestors did – through war and peace, times of hardship and plenty.
I considered the world around me now, from that place of silence. So many still suffering in war, pain and terror, far and near. So many who care and do their best, struggling to help against social and political adversity.
We each have our battles to fight. Sometimes removing the distractions helps us to remember, to return to what’s important. To learn, to decide, to move forward, and to live well – alone and together.
Here I am again thank you for your patience, lovely reader! As I’ve said before, I knew this would happen. Summer is my busiest time, and there will be lulls in bloggery, due simply to Life. But this is about as a real as it gets – I’d rather be honest with my posting than force things under duress. This blog is to be written As It Comes to me. No pre-recorded work here!
And there has been much busyness. Handfastings, general work, heaps of travel… and recovery. This can sometimes be the hardest part, as I’d rather be getting on with something that sitting about. But rest is needed.
For the past week or so, my mind has simply not wanted to get on with ‘work’. I have the (kind of) luxury of being able to indulge that, being self-employed, but on the other hand, if I don’t get on, work doesn’t get done – simple as that. I have to prioritize.
But it’s not just always about the body needing rest. The mind and spirit need recharging as well, of course, and that’s very hard to quantify in time-slots or achievements.
So I’ve been letting things come as they wished, indeed. Knitting commissions and gifts, writing short articles, being there for those who’ve called. Still working, but gently.
The ups and downs have come and gone, as they will. From happiness to anger, enthusiasm to lethargy – I try to tap into each as it arrives, transforming it where I can, flowing with it if I can’t. Sometimes I’ve been overwhelmed. Surfacing again after such engulfment is the reward. I survived again.
This morning, I’m up and out the door with the dogs, enjoying the crisp air before the day properly begins. The birds are up, a few other dog-walkers and their friendly charges, but the peace of ‘early’ is so valuable to me. Time just spent being, without obligation or urgency.
And it’s possible anywhere – necessary, in fact. I used to take the time on the walk to work: from sitting quietly on the commuter train, to walking up the Thames (literally with the flow)… even being stuck in traffic more recently. Not exactly Zen, but in the moment, allowing the dreams and thoughts to come and go. That’s where ideas come from.
So here I am now, back at my laptop, tapping my thoughts. Inspiration for the day once again – and more writing ahead. We do what we have to, but these are our lives we’re living. The alternative is to stop, and so very much would be lost if we do.
We keep moving. Onward, as always.
Today has been relatively busy. Writing mostly, but also planning, reviewing, generally organising the calendar.
I’ve looked back over the past year and ahead to the next. I’ve written about Autumn, remembering Spring. My head has been spinning with the changeable weather, from rainstorm and rainbows to bright skies. The air has been heavy one moment, filled with the freshness of damp grass the next.
We move with the cycles of Nature, but also the timescales that we make for ourselves. We balance between then and now and yet-to-come. The days are still lengthening as we approach the Summer Solstice; I watched the sun set less than an hour ago.
The time came when all was done. Not as much as I’d have liked, but enough. More tomorrow. Keeping moving.
I light candle and consider it. Sometimes all that’s needed is to be, here and now. In that moment, that stillness, is peace.
A very difficult day. No particular reason, but… emotional.
This afternoon, Himself decided to take me to a part of the hill that I’d never been before: a wooded area that he’d discovered during the snow last year. So down some streets, through some gaps in walls (a public footpath, fear not) and past a field of entirely unbothered horses, we found ourselves here.
Overgrown paths leading through birch trees and holly bushes, with only the occasional way-marker stone to show others had been here. We got as far as we could, but may have to return another day with either a walking stick or knife to move fallen branches.
Just us, the dogs and the birds. Spring breezes and new growth. With more to explore further down the paths.
The road goes ever on and on, indeed.