Time to catch up...

I’m plunging back into blogging after having been a little quiet in the websphere recently. There has been much going on behind the scenes, many blog posts worth I’m sure, but today I want to start by sharing a bit about how I have been working on nourishment recently (this is  a longer post so make sure you have a cup of something delicious ready as you settle down).

I’ve been taking a good hard look at my life, particularly my physical and emotional health. There was a turning point recently when I realised that I needed to take care of myself much more so than ever before and that this involved some serious changes to my lifestyle. To begin with I looked in great detail at the food I consume and how this serves me. A good friend recommended that I look seriously at eating more raw to help heal my body and give me some of the energy I have been seriously lacking. And so I ventured into my local organic supermarket for the first time and fell in love with the possibilities housed there. Opening up my mind to this way of eating meant I bought a spiraliser (what fun) and a blender to create green smoothies. I discovered the benefits of raw pollen, agave nectar and acai berry powder. I found the most amazing raw snack bars too. 

Through this natural goodness I have even lost some of that craving for sugars. Without realising I have found a fresh approach to creating meals and I am recognising inklings of enthusiasm when I am in the kitchen. I have so much to learn but I am honestly enjoying being a beginner on this food journey.

Connected to this quest of energy I have also been going to bed incredibly early. At first this seemed like a waste of hours to me but that is where my mindset changed also. I cannot continue measuring my days by how much I think I should achieve in them. And so each night I lie there, with the curtains still open so I can watch the sky from bed, listening to audio books ( usually cheesy murder mysteries) until I fall asleep. Add to this the purchase of a memory foam pillow, which is making a huge difference to my ability to sleep, and you have a much more peaceful bedtime routine. I am also listening much more to that need to rest in my everyday. There are days when I can hardly move because I have overdone things or because my body is simply exhausted. I used to carry on regardless, continuing to put the pressure on myself and soak in the pressures from others to continue. Slowly but surely this is changing. I will stop, I will say no. I will just lie down and allow my body to be. It isn’t always easy but I am becoming firmer.

Locket by Liz Lameroux

I’ve also been seeking nourishment for my heart and my spirit. After quite a bit of soul searching I am realising that I need to surround myself more with positive thinkers, and therefore I need to put some distance between myself and the more negative minded, stressed people in my life for a while. For I am sensitive to people’s energies, and take an awful lot upon myself in order to make them feel better and sometimes that energy just seeps in and influences the way I behave. This doesn’t mean ending friendships or believing that life is always hunky dory but it does mean not letting so much in. Searching out the positive wayfarers of my world is infectious and life affirming. I am stocking up on the good stuff.

In line with this I have been poeming until my heart’s content. I’ve  put together a whole stack of poetry books to lose myself in and I start each day with a poem, be it from my books or from the wonderful Writer’s Almanac, which sends a poem out daily by email.  Poetry speaks to me in such an intimate way; I had quite forgotten how understood, how empowered I feel when I read. And of course I have now caught the poem writing bug again and am even considering writing a collection of poems.

And to top off the feel good factor I have been spending time with those gorgeous nieces of mine again. My lovely Summer girl is life itself, with her bursting imagination and endless energy. She makes me really open my eyes to the world. And the younger one, Casey, is finally warming up to me, after crying for months when she sees me! Now there are plenty of cheeky grins and sly glances to take me in when she thinks I am not looking. She reminds me that the relationships that matter, take time and that patience is a practice worth the world.

I leave you with my Smudge cat, my feline teacher ( testing out the memory foam cushion).

Messages from a 5 year old me

I'm not quite sure that this poem is the finished article, but I wish to share it anyway, as a poem note (thank you Liz for introducing this idea to me) because I feel really attached to that 5 year old me in this moment. Spending time with my young nieces has bought back the amazing memories of being small. I encountered a lot of negative experiences in my childhood, meaning I often forget that there were quite lovely thoughts and moments too, which I must hold on to. 

Messages from a five year old. A poem note.

When I was five...

I discovered a  forsythia den, 

A glowing fortress.

Her twisty arms wove a maze of patterns.

Streaky light danced on my face,

Making me giggle,

As I crouched on the rich, earthy ground.

I yearned for white frilly socks of softest cotton,

That the other girls wore.

Their dainty edges were butterfly wings, 

Fluttering with every jump of the skipping rope.

Instead I wore blue socks.

The adventuring type.

I pointed my nose as far as it would reach

To peak over the post office counter.

Stacks upon stacks of sweets a glorious wall.

With every breath an ancient musty smell

Of rustling letters and sprawling ink encircled me,

The soft thud of stamping an accompanying lullaby.

I smiled with a shrug at the English language,

Imagining myself an alien

But in many hues of pink rather than green,

Landing far away from Germany.

Baffled.

Curious.

I conversed with gatherings of dolls,

Discussing my days as I held court.

My imaginary crown gave me voice.

Animal hearts began to beat

As soon as the light switch clicked.

With abandon I joined their secret invitations.

I lost myself in Grimm’s tales.

A story collector of great importance,

I drank in illustrated pages over and over,

My fingers tracing letter shapes in meditation.

And tapes with turn the page beeps

Unfolded scenes by the dozen in my soul.

I believed that a sweet toy tortoise,

Left on a train many miles away,

Could navigate her way to a healing aunt,

Who appeared one day

With the returned wanderer Mimi;

Somewhat larger and with both eyes in tact.

I was an artist with pens defined by fruity scents

And a bouquet of coloured pencils

Kept in the  strictest rainbow order.

The best rubbers were in the shape of elephants.

The straight line of a ruler unheard of.

Blank surfaces shouted my name.

I loved that dog in the swirling snow,

Who stole my knitted gloves from my pockets

And spun in circles in pursuit of his tail;

Soft ears flapping wildly,  lucid eyes alight.

Together we stuck out our tongues

To capture orbs of ice.

I idolised the gods and goddesses,

Who made life shine with their presence,

Smelling of strong coffee and exercise books.

They gave ME time.

I’d watch them intently

And decide who I would have for parents.

I wished for a best friend

With the shy passion of an introvert.

The thought of it all deliciously foreign.

Along the edge of the playground I stood,

On the lookout for that golden flicker

Of feeling known.

I treasured small objects,

Seeing them in minute detail.

When told to dispose of such rubbish

I gently tucked my findings into new hiding places.

Sometimes I carried a stone with me for days

Just because it was my stone.

I feasted on pasta in the shape of cartoon characters,

In gloriously  red tomato sauce.

Carmel puddings and slices of ham

Glanced back at me with grinning faces.

But necklaces made of sugared beads?

No,I couldn’t destroy their beauty.

The golden hour

Prompt: The golden hour.

It has rained every day for a week since prompt 52 was posted. I held on and on, desperately hoping that the sun would make a late afternoon appearance, but to no avail. And so, rather than dipping into my archives, I have captured the light of my week instead, and found a rather wonderful poem by John O'Donohue in the process.

Spring fling

Prompt: Spring fling!

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,

And out you stepped onto new ground,

Your eyes young again with energy and dream,

A path of plenitude opening before you.

(For a New Beginning. John O'Dononue)

Poetry Love

Poetry and I understand each other. We are old school friends. There for each other during the good, the bad and the downright ugly.  Over the last years though, somehow I had let that relationship dwindle, without realising really, without rhyme nor reason. So when I recently took part in Liz Lamoreux's Create Space course where she included some delicious poetry, which spoke so directly to my poetic soul, a part of me was reawakened. I sat in wonder as I realised just how much I had missed this friend. And so of course I signed up for Liz's current course, Poem It Out, and it is turning out to be the most inspiring  course I have taken part in in recent times (and there have been a few!) Not only am I discovering many new (well, new to me) poets, who totally get where I am coming from, even though we have never exchanged a word, but I am writing more poetry than I have done since adolescence. Liz offers depth, inspiration, thought provoking angles and so much joy. I feel mighty lucky to have a poetry angel to guide me on this particular adventure.

Today's poetry offering is quite a solemn one (I promise there may well be more joyous contributions ahead). I sat in front of my laptop, in the early hours as sleep had yet again left the building, and the words poured out. When I read the end result I oddly felt a sense of closure for addressing the insomnia, for defining how it feels to me.

Insomnia

Dusk.

Cradling whispers envelop.

Stuffed with iridescent motes, a satchel

Blurs the too bright glossy images of day.

A face of fine parchment, 

Creased softly,

Voices delicious promises

Alongside the tumbling particles 

Flowing through spindly fingers.

A feeling of muffled petticoats

As slumber winds through the shadows.

The edge of a tattered cloak

Vanishes beyond a windowpane.

Stricken eyes search for and deny

What they know is there.

Forced, I clamber back into night.

Unwished for clarity startles,

Tangled with fragmented thoughts.

Echoes of what has been

And the might bes and the what ifs

Grip vice like without escape.

Weighted down I lie in the shadows.

Sounds of not writing

I promised myself I would write a post today, for it has been far too long since I've shown you more than photographs and quotes. I'm putting my heart and soul into writing at the moment, yet this strangely doesn't seem to have transferred to my blog. Bare with me, give me time. So here I am. Showing up. A little ill at ease, not quite knowing where to begin, as is often the case after time away from a space. I'm not in a particularly cheerful state of mind either, but my intentions for this blog is for it to be an honest space, an opportunity to share the good times and the bad like you would do with a good friend. And so I choose to share a poem I wrote yesterday evening, when the dreaded stuckedness threatened to take over. I didn't think anything productive could come of my frowns and sighs, however the poem that emerged is a part of me. It may not be beautiful or well crafted but it feels raw and real. 

Sounds of not writing

Rain thumps

Fierce races

With haphazard rhythms.

Why does it always rain on me? (I hum)

A vibrating fridge

Rising

Demanding audience

Relenting

Beginning again.

Is she still there

That little girl from the story book

Holding the inside light?

A creaking desk

Cantankerous

Whiney

Disappointed.

How can not yet written words intimidate 

Dictator style?

An invisible elephant in the room

Sucking oxygen with deafening silence.

Poor elephant

who put her in a restricted space?

Mind chatter

Jumbled strings of graphemes

Crash and twirl

Without pause it seems.

Can anyone else hear how loud it is?