shapeshifting

Lunatic

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

 

Refreshing

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

 

 

 

 

 

Stretched

Last night I went off to my first yoga class in about 12 years (and I only did two back then) and, well, I loved it.

Naturally I have a lot to say about it. Heh.

So the woman teaching the class was very nice, slightly random - no, very random - and after telling me that I was there to just be, not do and that I should just relax, enjoy and be present (all of which I wanted to hear), tried to flog me some shampoo and body lotion. And some vitamins. I guess we all need to make a living but, er, no thanks.

It was a small class, just four as we started and twice that within 15 minutes. All but one of the other people were slightly older than me and the abilities were mixed. I decided to take it really easy, do what I could and no more. Be, not do. Our teacher was careful to tell 'new people' when to stop, to suggest rests and remind 'us' that at any time I could just stop, lie down and have a stretch.

She focused on mindfulness last night so all the way through she prompted us to, I guess, almost meditate. Focus on our breath, let thoughts come and go without latching onto them, be very aware of our body and what it was saying to us.

This was what my body and I needed: conversation. Last year, with invaluable kinesiology work, I became aware that my poor body was neglected and ignored. That I live in my head and beyond and rarely listen to my physical body even though it is wise and strong and gently holds all my experiences. Sometimes, not so gently, it throws them back at me and I don't blame it. Stretching and making physical space creates gaps for old, outdated and/or useless memories and beliefs to be looked at, recognised and released.

It's not right to talk about my body as a separate entity, obviously it's as much me as anything else, but it feels separate after so long with not talking. And frankly, it feels more natural to me to feel compassion and love for something other than my self. Which is hugely telling in itself. Baby steps...

So yes, the positive was a big positive.

I was also very aware that at no point, either in person or elsewhere, did our teacher say what kind of yoga she teaches (correction: her website says it's "based on ashtanga". Really???). Nor, except for once, did she tell us what we were doing, what the pose was called, how we should be doing it or anything else. Most of the time I was left wondering if it was actually yoga! She adjusted my posture just once (when I was lying down) and I know from my own training that some of the other people in the class were putting themselves in dreadful misalignment and at risk of injury. She also spent most of the class with her back to us in a hall with no mirrors so she had really no idea what was going on and it wasn't pretty.

I lay back and thought that one of my strong personality traits is the desire to know. I want names, descriptions, stats, projected outcomes...information. Which all boils down to a need for security. I use that information to build safety nets and walls alongside my ladders and pathways. So maybe what I should do right now is to let that need go. Try flying without the net. Leap into the unknown and see what happens. My body loved the freedom and space to just talk without me drilling instructions into it. Other things have urged me to let go and leap this week, maybe this was just confirmation.

However, I want to learn yoga and I am not going to do that in this class. And, once I give myself chance, I am pretty good at listening to my body so maybe with extra effort I could do that in another, more structured class too. Or at home. So I'm going to book in for an introductory 5 week course at a local Anusara studio, if there are still places. If I love it, great. If not, I can go back to square one or try somewhere else.

But I do know that I will be going somewhere, doing yoga somehow because that feeling, that making of space in my body...that was good.

One day.

(c) James W Vinner