Time to soak and settle ...

Ah, the low point. The time when my skin is thin, and everything feels like a comment on my person. On who I am. On who I was. Judgement all around. Whose judgement? Well ... Mine actually. Projections all. And I've been waiting for this. The crash. Because the high, the adrenalin of change, cannot last. Never does. And neither should it. The body can only sustain a certain amount of stress response positively. If it is prolonged then things start shutting down - the metabolism for one. Then the physical effects become dangerous, damaging. And so what do I do?

I look after myself. And how do I do that? I respond to my body's needs. For sleep. For pampering. For change. Time for the hair to be cut and dyed. Time for a long soaky bath with oils and salts. Time for napping and eating well. No more pizza. More salad. Fresh, growing things. Seeds and nuts and berries. Peppermint tea to calm the stomach. Camomile to calm the spirit. Conversations with parents to touch base with humans who hold me in high positive regard. Conversations with the Sea and Nature to touch base with the bigger picture, and to touch base with the part of me that holds me in high positive regard.

Not time to be trying to learn a new language of website making. It's all washing over me anyway. I understand the words, but not the meaning. My head is swimming. And there are so many 'shoulds' and 'oughts' attached to it. I am an intelligent person. Computer literate. I 'should' be able to do this. I 'ought' to be able to understand. This 'should' be easy. Gah.

And grief. I have avoided the grief of the changes. I have avoided the grief of the endings and the leavings. Bypassed it with spirit. Bypassed it with prayer. Bypassed it with action. Bypassed it with alcohol. And now it is upon me, and I cannot bypass any longer. Now is time for grieving. To acknowledge all that I have been through this year, and cry for the losses. To feel the sorrow, and the anger, and the pain. Not to negate the positives. They are there, and will remain there - concomitant. The other side of the coin. This is all part of being human, and living this thing we call life. Don't mean it's comfortable of course. If it were comfortable, easy, there would be no alcoholics, drug addicts, yo-yo dieters, adrenalin junkies, escapism, depression, consumerism. Hey, at least I don't have any money to blow!

What I do have is a women's circle and a study group to connect with tomorrow and Wednesday. People of a common inclination to Be with. People who Know me, or are prepared to. People to whom it does not matter whether I read the same books or like the same TV or listen to the same music. People who can hear my sadness without feeling uncomfortable, or at least without feeling that they need to fix it, or rescue me from it. People that I trust in this response.

And soon. Soon will come the time when I need to address that trust issue within myself. I know where it comes from. Many years of psychotherapy and counselling have uncovered those stories. Now what I need to work on is my response to them. Awareness and compassion for my wounded self. I feel a ritual coming on ... And Equinox is soon. Although, perhaps new moon or Samhain would be better times. When the time is right, I will know.

And now my bath is almost drawn. So time to soak and settle. Good bye for now ...

Trust and Vigilance.

So today is a sad day. Ned Stark was beheaded, and I am missing my friends. One friend in particular. The one with whom I could just be. In any mood. Quiet and doleful, manic and fidgety. The one with whom conversation was easy, and my thoughts could be aired without censor. He knew I was mad in his eyes, and I knew I was mad in his eyes. So I could just be.

Here is new. I know many people, yes. And I am alone in my thoughts. Because no matter how much work I put in to train myself out of old patterns, trusting that I will not be humiliated for my ideas is the hardest old pattern to break. And yes. I fully believe that attack for ideas is because I am mirroring something that the other is triggered by. It is not personal to me. It is personal to them. And still, when feeling low of energy and low of mood - vulnerable - the fear is there, and the need to protect myself is strong.

I saw another friend today. Dinner at hers. It was a lovely evening. I spoke of my loneliness. Of the upheaval and change of this past year: leaving a marriage, leaving a career, leaving a home, leaving an area, loosing a child, the culmination of two years hard work in being ordained. My thirtieth year. My Chariot year. My Saturn Returns apparently. And full moon in two days as well. 

I spoke of the biological imperative that has taken over my body. MUST REPRODUCE!!! Different and separate from my desire to be held, my desire to have sex! Oh so horny. My intellect say no to children. It always has. It still does. And yet I meet men and I find myself assessing their genes. Hmmm, good nose, good hair, strong body, intelligent ... The list goes on. Must find a family planning clinic and get on those injections before my body starts urging me to 'forget' to take the pill. Because, interestingly, the urge is not for children, but for pregnancy. For creating, housing, nurturing that small human form in which a soul can reside for this Earthwalk. In fully knowing the Woman/Womb power my body holds.

I left feeling heavy with sadness, at the awareness that even here, with this woman I respect and admire - perhaps because I respect and admire her - I was not fully at ease. Full of the tired weariness that fills the bones. And I walked. Taking the route home that lead me along the sea front. Hot chocolate on my mind. Come To Me Priestess the sea whispered. Come To Me Lady. Not tonight, not tonight. I am tired and I want to sleep I replied. Come To Me Priestess. Come To Me Lady she called. And I found my weary legs crossing the road to find the steps down to her, all painted in silvery blue she was and firey in spirit tonight.

I climbed down, and trudged onto the beach. The going tough as I met the unstable surface of the pebbles. Tread Gently Lady, And Your Going Will Be Easier. And my feet fell in step with the rhythm of the waves. Down to her edge. Down to where the water crashes on the shore. Down to where the pebbles dance and sing. Come Closer Lady, Come Closer. I came closer, dancing and jumping back and fore with every crash. You're Skittish Tonight Lady, she called, not un-mockingly, not un-kindly. Come Closer Priestess. Trust Lady, Trust. And I stilled. Planting my feet, I stilled.

Wave after wave crashed on the shore, stopping centimetres before my feet. Watch Lady, Observe. I began to see in the darkness the shelf beneath the waves which caused them to break. I began to see in the darkness the pull back of each forerunner that quelled the power of the next. I began to see in the darkness an awesome wave that gathered the strength of the previous ones, and rushed towards the shore, towards me. That one's going to get me, but trust she said, trust. No, no, that one really is going to Get ME! I skidded and jumped and dashed up the pebble shelf behind me with laughter bubbling up and a squeal, but not before she soaked my feet. Trust Lady, But Remain Vigilant she called with a smile in her voice. Trust Yourself As Well As Me ...

And a saying pops into my head: Tether your horse and trust in Allah, but tether your horse first.

Welcome!

Well, here I am. Writing a blog. Who knew!?

Ani DiFranco is singing to me about the glory of the atom from the safe little womb that is the basement flat of my beloved friend. Surrounded by the Earth, the energy here is very different from my first floor flat above shops that I left behind to be here. My new tenants should be settling in now, and I wish them every happiness in the space that nurtured me through the phase of life I have just left.


And so here I am. The sea greets me from the end of the road every time I leave to go somewhere, and I have spent much time with her. Singing my stories. Singing my sadness. Singing my joy. Singing my gratitude. She was most beautiful a few days ago when we caught the end of the channel island storms. Her power humming in the air, bringing the smell of sea salt inland, and covering my glasses with a fine film. Here I have to remain vigilant in order to be able to see clearly! And then I ask: is this not always so?