Me: So, I came to this seat on that first morning, to spend a little quiet time, to watch the butterflies and the paragliders floating by. It was beautiful, serene, the closest to Heaven I had ever felt. And then you came along. My first wild tortoise. I could hear scuffling in the undergrowth. For some time I heard it, but didn’t know it was you. Eventually I had to go and explore and there you were. My heart filled up with joy to see you.
I thought …
“This is perfect. Look at who I have found. How lucky am I”
I found this poem recently that spoke to me of a particular time, a particular place and a story not yet told. A place I encountered and instantly knew was one of the ‘Thin Places’
A place that turned me into a Catherine wheel. And, though fireworks will always burn themselves out, as is their very nature, they leave their colours in your soul, to take with you when you are elsewhere, and fireworks aren’t appropriate.
And while that untold story is being formed, I leave you with a view of this sunshine seat. Your own may be anywhere, you may not have visited yet – but you’ll know it when you arrive.
On sunshine seat we find our feet
and get to feel the heat of love, the numb warms up and the frozen leaves
for this seat wakes the sleeping buds;
it wakes them all, the big and small the fearful and the tightly closed,
on sunshine seat we greet the heat
and open, like the thankful rose.
The clouds go by, we hear a sigh
coming from our weary hearts,
and sense a change, a flaming wave
of quite delightful charming sparks,
that turn us into catherine wheels
fizzing through the shifting hours,
on sunshine seat we’re strong, not weak
we see us as the great empowered.
On sunshine seatthe word ‘defeat’
is not a word that’s ever heard,
but ‘gorgeous’ is, along with ‘bliss’
and the views go far beyond superb,
for sunshine seat sits on the cliffs
looking out at sea and sky,
and all souls leap on this old seat
for it always takes the spirit high.
~ Andrew Hobbs
· Forty and Everything After 2018 · Poem by Andrew Hobbs · Artist Unknown
A couple of weekends ago I got the lurgy. I felt really, very rubbish, and my sleep was ruined by the many-legged, germy beasties partying in my throat. I had so many plans of things I would get done. But then I just couldn’t. Not any of it. My battery was flat.
So I beat myself up about that for a while, making my custard filled head hurt more.Read More »
I had only three days left in Rio. None of us wanted to contemplate the end of our South American adventures, but for me at least, that time was almost upon me. The three of us had been toying with what to eat that evening for far longer than was helpful. And so, the decision was made that a Caipirinha may be the answer in the first instance, and then we would see how the mood took us.Read More »
So we’ve seen some breakage
There are cracks in these jars
We have inflicted some on each other
Water seeped from those scars
We watched solemnly as it ebbed away
Fearing it may never again flow
But that water, it was stagnant
And we had to let it go
We are now filling those gaps with gold
Where would we have fitted it before?
If we hadn’t given in to those holes
We had choices to make in those chinks
We might have crumbled to dust
We almost did
But instead we chose to let the sun light through
And now we are capturing gold from the dew
Yes, there may still be drafts we cannot resolve
But that air brings with it oxygen
And we had to learn to breath again
These bowls have seen much harm
Dropped from sad and weary arms
Those shards we once watched fall
Let us take them up and gild them
And with those same arms now rebuild them
What porcelain person was ever not made more whole
When they finally acknowledge there are flaws in their bowl
They are fragile and imperfect and require careful carriage
We now witness new strength in this clay and gold marriage
As integrity returns to this broken vessel’s form
We can clear up the debris from the retreating storm
And this crazing in our glazing marks our journeys’ map
As we honour the strength of this gold in our gaps
Recently I started a course in Counselling and Psychotherapy. As part of this course I have to undertake my own training therapy. My first session was last week. I am already hooked. I find this stuff absolutely fascinating. The things I have been learning just make so much sense to me. I want nothing more than to dive into a bath of all of these books I have been buying, until their nutrients seeps through my skin and I have become a knowledge-filled, prune-skinned, wise woman.
It reminded me of a favourite blog piece of mine, written whilst I was undergoing my own counselling a year or two ago … when my head and my heart hurt and I couldn’t say why.
That whole process was life-changing for me, and it has now inspired me to finally follow my passion for all things human, and sign up for the course I am now engaged in.
And so, as a new year approaches, and the world seems to be my oyster once again, I wanted to share this personal fairytale one more time.
The Path To Wise Counsel – A Tale
Once upon a time there was a small version of me. This girl had chutzpah, she had self-confidence and just the right amount of sass. This small version of me had utter certainty that the world was her oyster, and she fully intended to be the creator of pearls.Read More »
I haven’t had a panic attack since last March. That happened in the security area of Heathrow airport. It is actually a very funny story (now) but I think I am going to save that for another time.
This year I am very glad to say I have not had one. But there have been a couple of times it has been a close run thing. No more so than last weekend – on stage with a 300 strong choir, in front of an even bigger audience. Read More »