My industrious phase was short-lived, as I feared it would be. The slough of inertia has returned to weigh me down. Medals will not be returned.
Today, an effort was made. We mustered the wherewithal to venture out for a walk, enjoying what passed for sunshine and the swelling buds of magnolia and camelia. This witch hazel had passed the budding stage and its arachnoid flowers were in their prime. To think I might have missed the sight of these tiny buttercup yellow streamers. I must keep focused, it is all happening out there.
Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, who ever you are with, I hope that you find joy and comfort and peace this Christmas. And of course lots of fun and laughter. And chocolate. But the Twiglets are all mine. Sending you all much love xxxx
The wind is blowing and the raining is pouring and I have too much time to think. My mind is a terrier, shaking worries to no avail, when it would be more sensible to wander into happier mental climes. And who is suffering? The person who I believe wronged me? Not at all. They are oblivious; whilst I am agonising, perplexed and astounded, reliving events, even worrying that the mistake was mine, they care nothing.
And then I remembered something. A few months or years or whatevers ago I attended a mindfulness session, with Lady Mantle. Do not fret, Lady Mantle was not in charge of proceedings, that would be a different event altogether. A much more appropriate women was in charge, the lovely Gemma, our yoga teacher, with her peach skin voice and ways of fluid gentleness.
Amongst other things that day, Gemma explained to us the concept of RAIN. No, not rain; in North Devon we know quite a lot about that already, there is no call for workshops on the subject. I am talking about RAIN. This particular version of RAIN stands for Recognise, Allow, Investigate, Nurture.
This is my interpretation, please forgive me if I am mistaken, I was in a near trace-like state of relaxation at the time and for this we must blame Gemma. Perhaps it works like this: I recognise my hurt, I allow myself be angry, I attempt to understand why I feel that way and lastly, through self-kindness, I can move forward. Something like that anyway, perhaps you could look it up. It helped, it really did.
You could also admire the pink hull-like flowers of Lobelia bridgesii, they will soothe soul too.
Sometimes you just get lucky. Osteospermum and photo-bombing friend.
I’ve been blogless this week. There are various reasons, most of them associated with ennui and apathy. These things happen. To tied you over, here is a Inula hookeri thinking about flowering.
You can argue as much as you like, it is very hard to better a pot marigold in full sail.
A client couple made me cry today. It wasn’t “a lone, elegant tear slowly tracking down my downy cheek” à la Sinead O’Connor. It was a full-on, scrunched-up, red-faced, ugly blub.
I won’t mention their names, although I really should. As they deserve to be recognised. For their kindness; kindness over and beyond. It was much appreciated. In a very small way of thanks, here is a string of hearts just for them. They are shining stars.
It is dark and miserable outside. I am grey and miserable inside.
But yesterday this fabulous acacia was bright and joyful.
Thank goodness for memories.
Do not be fooled by the innocent blue sky. It was blowing ice. But at least it wasn’t raining. For a couple of hours this afternoon anyway, this morning was a stinker. I’ll take that. Small mercies.