Spring vibes Tuesday
I have noticed as I’ve progressed through my forties a slow but definite pull back towards nature. It’s as if the thirty years in between childhood and now have conspired to keep me away from it. In my late teens I moved to London Town and became so immersed in urban culture I think I forgot about the natural world that quietly and diligently did its thing on the fringes. Of course, I dipped in and out. We would spend many debauched weekends away in the country but that’s not really the same thing as immersing yourself in it. We were using the countryside as a film set location for our never-ending fun. We would embark on long walks where we played liked adolescents on spherical hale bales and sit on warm summer nights under the stars, heavily intoxicated discussing our future selves and all their limitless dreams. But, something inside me has shifted. I’ve been woken back up and I’m loving it. I now find myself driving twice down a road so I can wonder at the blossom on a particular cherry tree. It gives me such a visual and visceral thrill that it literally renders me speechless with its beauty. I notice the colour and texture changes of each season. I reach out and touch lavender that trails over garden fences and pot hopeful herbs each spring. It’s as if my own declining reproductivity has helped me better appreciate the constant ongoing life cycle more acutely. There’s something bittersweet in that. But maybe this is where I’m going to find my solace and my sunshine on the other side of this hormonal shit-storm. Both of my Grandmothers were country dwellers. Both seemed to appreciate the change of each season. I never heard either of them bemoan a cold winter, the never-ending rain in February or the intensity of summer. They seemed to appreciate, applaud, and accept this was how it was all meant to be. So, I’m going to take their lead. I’m off to touch some bark and feel the ground beneath my naked feet. Move over Mother Nature – I’m coming for you.
Bleurgh Thursday
It’s a bleurgh sort of day. I have not slept properly in what feels like months but in reality is only four nights. I’m so tired I can’t even muster any enthusiasm for my dog baby. I’m not sure what’s happened to my evening routine? I feel tired, I read before bed to settle my over excitable head. My eyes grow heavy and it all feels super positive - then as soon as I put my book down and switch the lights off I’m wide awake. I’m so mentally awake I could beat the reigning chess champion with my strategic reasoning skills and super fast reactions. Fight or Flight lies next to me kindly switching up his snoring rhythms on a nightly basis. Sometimes it’s a guttural throat snore, other times a nasal high pitched whine. If I’m really lucky, I get a clicking sound that accompanies both. It’s a fucking riot. When I prod him and tell him he’s snoring I’m met with “But I’m not asleep” to a barely audible “Yep, yep”. Last night Fight or Flight was obviously looking for a divorce. He decided to turn the tables and said at 1.47 in the morning when I lost my shit. “That on Sunday morning I had woken him up with MY snoring”. If I felt awake before that statement you can imagine how activated I felt after. Separate bedrooms are making more and more sense to me.
Just another manic Monday….
Well actually not that manic in activity more manic in my head. I awoke from a pretty sub-standard sleep in a surprisingly good mood. I didn’t feel that heavy feeling in my chest that has accompanied my mornings lately. I walked Nobody puts Baby in the Corner to school and rather than avoid fellow parents I actively engaged with them. I almost felt like the me of old. Got home had another coffee and then it started to go wrong. I got the jumpy feeling and my heart felt light and racy. I decided to walk Dog Baby to clear my thoughts, but this actually made me feel worse. Just me and my rushing out of control head are not a match made at the moment. During my hour long walk I had talked myself into leaving my husband, becoming polyamorous, painting my bedroom a terracotta colour and running a marathon. I got back from my walk and decided the only thing left for me to do was to ground (I use this word with difficulty) myself with yoga. During the first lockdown I and about three million other people discovered Yoga with Adriene. Now I know she’s not a secret, but I feel like me and Adriene have got a special thing going on. I love her and her saucy little asides. She has literally made a yoga session for every feeling and physical niggle. I google YouTube and away Adriene and I go. Out of the mind and into the body. It continues to amaze me how a 30-40 minute yoga session can cure me of almost all my mind madness. That focus on the other. The breath. I’m channelling Uncle Bryn from Gavin and Stacey here – but it really is extraordinary. Thank you, India, for your spiritual offerings I am eternally grateful.
Me on the mat and the goddess herself. https://www.youtube.com/@yogawithadriene
I identify so strongly with your description of nature-appreciation. So well articulated! I often feel I've fallen in love with nature & am head over heels in May. I have a favourite cherry blossom tree that I walk past. I think I may have to use the word fondle to describe how I touch that blossom. I talk to it and tell it just how beautiful it is. I feel completely bats when I do this but in a really good way 😊. I think you understand this very well ❤️🩹
I’m amused at the visual of you stopping to smell the lavender and admire the wisteria.