Friday, 16 August 2013

It's a new dawn, it's a new day

Earlier this week I wrote a post about some things that have been happening to me. And then I didn't publish it.

I didn't publish it because I thought most people who read it would think I'm crazy and even though I can't actually see them from the safety of my living room, the very thought of them rolling their eyes and muttering about how I've lost my mind was enough to make me stop short. It's not as if I haven't done my own share of that when a blogger I've followed has suddenly changed path into an area where I don't belong. I know how it goes. So instead I spent time suppressing what I wanted to say. Convincing myself it was ridiculous and that I was probably just a bit hormonal.

If someone else did that, to my face, I'd probably deck them.

But this is what we do isn't it? Especially if we're British, it seems. We put ourselves and our beliefs down before someone else can. We apologise in advance when we've done nothing wrong. We deflect imagined pain by being the first to throw stones. It's all very 'umble and Hugh Grant and charming. Not.

I'm not breaking new philosophical ground when I say it's pretty damn obvious that we can't please all the people all the time. But for some reason, us 'Brits' (by birth, adoption or random personality defect) feel we have to try. We try not to offend anyone. Anyone at all. Even the serial killers out there. Because rude. And it might draw attention to us and we don't deserve that. We don't deserve anything. Our dads told us.

I had the pleasure of spending some time with my partner-in-Britishness, Susannah this week and we talked about how we both dilute our most powerful beliefs. And not only does that leave a bad taste in our mouths, but the negativity spoils it for everyone else too. It takes the joy and power and the momentum out of everything. It breaks All Of The Magic.

As we discussed this further, each naming examples of people who are a) non-British and b) super-positive, it became apparent that while we're both very good excellent at doing the internal work (Introverts Unite! [But only online!]) we're pretty rubbish at standing up and bloody well staking our claim, flying our flag, making a public statement of commitment. Gosh, even typing it sounds a bit attention-seeking. More tea, anyone?

Anyway. I'm not doing that anymore. I'm done with the dilution and the omission. And to those who have read my blog for a long time but can't relate to the way it's about to go, I say thank you. I love you. I am grateful for your time and friendship and you will always be in my heart. Live long and prosper.

And I'm feeling good.

Friday, 9 August 2013

Wide open spaces

I took this today at about 5.30AM while the dogs ran about like lunatics (there's a black one in the distance that you may just be able to make out). I instagrammed it, of course, and then kept being drawn back.

This is how the inside of my head feels. As if the years and years of thinking things through and forming opinions and trying to understand stuff and plan stuff and have ideas and stuff just got cleared away. Harvested. I'm not quite sure where they are, just that they are somewhere, and I am left with a pared-down, simplified mental and spiritual landscape. I've cut away the complexities and the convoluted theories, mine and others'. There is so much that really no longer has any relevance. Even when I would like it to. It's too late. I can't unknow what I know. Or perhaps relearn what I've unlearnt. Whatever.

This is not me being all superior and triumphant, this is me actually being a bit lost. I am here, out standing in my field, heh, with no clue what to do with it. I have seeds - that far I've progressed - but exactly how are we going to eat (I mean literally) while I nurture this crop and wait maybe years for the harvest? What can I use to keep me and my family healthy and happy in the short term and not take me too far away from tending the long term abundance I'm working towards?

This is what is on my mind in the early mornings. And the rest of the day. But look at that space, look at that potential.

Thursday, 1 August 2013

What can I tell you?

my path

Where do I even start?

How about the times I saw the end of the rainbow, not once but on two days running, rooting itself down into the paddock at the side of our home? I didn't think it was even possible to see this so I suppose it made itself clear by doing it twice.

As I shifted my focus - looking out of bedroom window - from the field back to the house I noticed that we now have a community of wasps living in our roof and there were many, many of them hovering in front of my eyes. How about them? We haven't called our landlord. We're waiting to see if they stay. We don't want them killed and that is what will happen if we tell him.

How about the sudden need to create something special to celebrate the power of the feminine and its increasing presence in my life as a guiding light? This is something I've battled against almost all my life and I can literally feel the tension and aches as I bend and stretch myself out of old habitual stances. It feels good, so good.

The lessons I'm taking in ritual and shamanic practise continue to feed a part of me that has been a long time hungry. How about that? I believe it is the recognition and acceptance that satisfies me. I've practised before but always kept one foot outside the circle. Now I am IN.

I could tell you about how I now see my home in two, not-really-separate ways: as the place my family and I live and feel safe, loved and relaxed, but also now as my place of learning. There's such magic here and so much life from the deer and foxes and crows and toads, to the trees and the plantain, self-heal, nettles and yarrow thriving in our little garden, overflowing from the fields beyond it. It is the perfect home and perfect classroom. In both places I am the Firekeeper. No wonder I was pulled back here.

Or my 5AM mornings and chance to sit and be with this place and the day ahead while the human family sleep and the canine family explore?

How about - on a lighter (darker?) note - the wonders of machine dye and a whole 'new' wardrobe, upcycled in the turns of our washing machine? Back to black and loving it!

How about the horrors of growing out cropped hair? I've been here so many times and yet...every day is a fresh hair hell. Heh.

Or the fact I rewrote my about page?

How about I simply say that I am happy? We five are happy.