Movement & Emotional Release

It has been a hard week, I’ve needed to remind myself to be extra compassionate. The boys always seem a lot to handle during transiotion periods, and as we’re figuring out our holiday routine and I’m working on the last four assignments for school it has been stressful to say the least.

The thing that’s ironic is that even now, after all I’ve learnt and experienced my knee jerk is to tamp the feelings down and keep pushing through. So i did that for a little while, and noticed myself feeling so resistant and exhausted. Which is pretty normal when you’re exerting a lot of energy to push down what you’re feeling. Thankfully the learnings kicked into gear and I remembered to accept my feelings. Notice them, accept them, and allow them to impart the necessary information and then release.

This is why they call all this stuff practice. You have to keep on doing it, one day at a time, practicing. There isn’t a point where you’re an expert and so you stop. I’m thinking that actually the expertise is in continuing with it all.

This is a beautiful Yin Yoga flow for anyone who would like to get in the habit. It’s about half an hour, and is a profound way to sit with yourself. I can good my hands up to being someone who’s breaking the habit of disconnecting from my body. This has been helpful.

I hope you are well, and looking after yourself,

Take care

Fine words weave

Unlearning; Undeserving Love

This post comes with a trigger warning ⚠️ it‘s about domestic abuse, and harmful societal messaging. Please only read it if you feel you are in the right mental framing to do so, and that it won’t detrimentally affect you.

Continue reading “Unlearning; Undeserving Love”

Journaling as a mainstay

(A letter style entry about Covid 19- heads up so you can choose whethere you’re in the headspace to read this now or wish to return later)

Hello lovely,

How are you? Thanks for coming back and reading another one of these. I’m happy to have you here with me. I want today’s blogpost to read like a letter. I hope you enjoy the change in format.

The not so new news is Coronavirus. Global pandemic, lockdown, and quarantine are some of the keywords of the current times. A huge element of being instructed to stay indoors is challenging for me. Obviously as someone who has been sectioned (almost a decade ago now) it is not surprising that this feels very close to the skin. Autonomy is something of a theme that keeps on cropping up this year.

I don’t this is limited to me and my experiences though. I believe that it’s an entirely human feeling, to instinctively recoil at a command that seeks to keep you confined. Isn’t prison seens as a crime and punishment system? It’s punishing because your freedom of movement is voided. (We’ll talk another day about how prison also seems to void human rights, and the whole rehabilitation issue. I have huge feelings around institutionising humans.)

I find myself deeply concerned about the long term implications of our current conditions.

Today the Govt spokepeoples were talking about secondary deaths due to Cv19 they talked about comorbidity. They talked about “BAME” ( slowly coming to really dislike that term) covid rates. I waited with baited breath for them to talk about class, race, poverty how these things intersect with people’s likelihood to contract the illness, how they correlate with how likely they are offered treatment/testing or not believed and sent off …. of course this was not mentioned. Of course not.

Though “the pandemic” has all but painted bold the social inequalities that are built into the very fabric of many of our societies, by many it still goes unseen, unspoken about, and out of awareness.

There’s been such loss and grief.

Numerous people, souls who laughed, thought, felt, loved, were lights, complicated, joyous, passionate, have departed this life.

My Lord grant solace to all those grieving, and soothe them in their experience of loss, of breaking, and hurting.

It’s now more than ever that we realise the value of community perhaps. It feels like another thing that’s been painted bold. This spiritual human interconnectedness. This is a light, and I have hopes that this reconnection to our sense of collective purpose strengthens throughout and beyond this time.

There’s been a whole host of different experiences I guess, and it’s just, I think societies are bound to change in many unimaginable ways on the other side of this. Im hoping to be a part of the effort to make sure this is a “for the better” outcome than a “for the worse” type of thing. Tie your camel, and leave the rest to Him.

So having put things into context of course there’s a lot of feelings and emotions coming up, some mine, some the feelings of others that i feel so easily atuned to (hello, extraverted feeling). My current experience is that it’s taking even more energy than usual to maintain boundaries in that respect.

Hence I’m grateful to have journalling, as a great resource to sift through feelings, identify mine, sort them out from other people’s emotions, and then even looking into projections.

One of my new journaling experiences recently has been getting really relaxed in my body before hand, sort of floating along my mind’s currents and then feeling deeply into any emotion/memory that comes up. After that i breathe deeply, then stretch, and then turn to my journal.

There’s so much stuff coming up. Isn’t that always the case, that the more work you do, the more work there seems to be that needs doing. Such is the joy and sorrow of life.

Anyway that’s it, I just wanted to check in. And express things on here. This is history in the living, and I want to remember it exactly as it was lived for me, not however it might be reworked to fit objectives and poli-socio-economic narratives in the time after.

All the best,

take care,

Fine words Weave

An Unstormable Knowing

One more round with the tempest.

She stands,

arms outstretched

in a daring embrace,

as she locks gaze with the eye of the storm.


Energy jitters up her spine,

and her tongue is dry.

She’s danced this whirl wind before.


Spun out over and over,

leaving breathless and dizzy,

that’s if she even leaves at all.


The tempest calls her name,

blowing temptingly in her ears.

Drawing her in just a bit.


One foot forward,

without conscious thought,

she’s already in forward motion,

Pulled in by the deceptive calm.


Still the weathered shawl of foreboding

settles on her shoulders,

and her skin pinpricks with that quiet

un-nameable sense,

that something is just out of step here.


She’s been around this tempest before,

this isn’t her first spin,

and lately she’s tired

of letting herself be reeled back in.


Emotionally battered,

mind windswept,

she’s intimately familiar

with the post-storm landscape.


The tempest howls,

the wind buffets at her mind,

the noise is reaching crescendo.


She turns inwards to the quiet within.

And asks a single question.

The answer makes steel rods of her legs

and she is at a stand still.


The question?

Is this, what you want, for your life?


Lightning fizzles

from within the tempest,

aiming at her stock still legs.

There is pain and tingling,

and the metal taste of hot electricity.

As the bolt hits at where she is grounded.


Is this what you want for your life?


Honestly,

the answer is so quiet,

it’s hard to hear it

beneath the roar of the storm.


Still it matters not,

because the answer becomes her vision.

She feels it right in the gaps.

She unstormably knows the answer

in every fiber of her.


She is steady as the tempest rolls over.

It flails and roars,

wails and hails.

Steadily drags at her core.


It comes with dark

and thunder and shuddering.

Shaky teeth,

and the shivering.


The storm is a mighty thing.

The knowing within is mightier still,

and she does not let the storm in.


She draws deep from within herself,

The strength to weather it.

At moments her legs falter,

and at times she is almost carried away

by the force of the storm,

still the unstormable knowing is her steadying.


The storm does its worst.

The knowing is unstormable.

The tempest passes.

She stands, still.


Her arms outstretched in an open embrace.

The storm has subsided.

And faintly in the post-storm ozone

she hears a new question.

What do you want for your life?