Amidst the storm

Only three months ago I was sailing smoothly along the shore, legs stretched out on the bow, hands folded behind my head, relaxing in the sunshine, blue skies all around. I had a nice day job, a place to call my own, a furry companion and I was ready to find new love. Cut to stormy weather at sea, dark clouds everywhere, me over here barely hanging on to the stern of the boat, treading water as I wonder how much more I can stomach. How am I supposed to adopt a cat when I’ve just buried one, has anyone seen my date, I thought these demons were a thing of the past, and without a temp job can I even afford my home? At least I can always count on my anxiety to keep me company through difficult times! But the one thing that I realised, after swallowing another gulp of water, is that I may be on the outside of the boat right now, wondering where port side is, but I am still the captain of this ship. I am the one looking at the stars and navigating these waters, no matter how murky they get. As soon as I realised that, I felt really calm. As Ovid wrote in Metamorphoses: saevis tranquillus in undis. Calm amidst the raging waves…

On not being able to write

Ever since I founded the factory, I’ve always been busy doing something. Over the years there have been ups and downs, but no matter what else has happened in my life, I’ve been squirreling around my workshop. But the past few weeks have been so different. I’ve just been sitting around, watching youtube videos, scrolling through facebook, rearranging entries in my address book, running errands and finding reasons not to be at home. Occasionally I’ve given it another try, but I just end up staring at a blank screen for an indiscriminate amount of time. It feels like all the things I’m passionate about have been stuffed in a pretty little jar on the window sill, the lid screwed on tight. So what do you do, when you ain’t got no flow? I wish I had an easy answer to that question, some magical ingredient that you can sprinkle around like fairy dust and that will transform everything. But there isn’t. You just have to wait until the wind changes. But what if it won’t, you ask? What if it won’t change? That question I can answer. For as the wise Heraclites said, the only thing that is constant is change. So don’t despair, for nothing remains the same.

Entangled in every sorrow

For the past seven months my beautiful Jet and I have been inseparable. Every morning she’d wake me up at sunrise, wait for me to finish my tai chi practice, rush to the sofa in the living room (brush time please!), cuddle up on my chest whenever I’d sit down, wait for me to come home and fall sleep in my arms at night, her soft nose pressed against my cheek. And now, out of the blue, this sweet creature, light of my life, is gone. Leaving me with nothing but memories. I will always remember that she was so scared on one of our last visits to the vet that she stuck her little head underneath my jumper, hiding in the safety of my embrace. It melted my heart to see how much she came to trust me, this little rescue animal, in the short period that I knew her. Faced with an emptiness that cannot be filled, I lost faith that there is always light to be found in the darkness. Overwhelmed with grief and feeling utterly defeated, I questioned everything. What’s the point in trying when we are all going to die anyway? But like the phoenix rising from the ashes, I too must start over. And so, with a saddened heart, I set out to rebuild all dreams lost.

Begin again

Seven years. Seven years ago today I fell prey to a hawk, his sharp claws leaving marks on my body. Seven years, they say, it takes for the cells in your body to have been replaced by new ones. This miracle of regeneration means that this body of mine hasn’t been violated. That he hasn’t touched me. And that after all these years of healing, I can begin again: unmarred, unharmed, untouched. It is time to leave the past behind. The scar he left on my soul will always be there, of course. But I’m ok with that. For me it’s a reminder that the world isn’t filled only with butterflies and dandelions. That there’s bad and good, dark and light, yin and yang. That there are dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest. And that you must always trust your intuition when it tells you it isn’t safe. But it also reminds me that there are things that can never be taken away from me. As Maya Angelou said, you are a child of god. So keep your warrior heart soft and follow the guidance of your inner light.

The art of healing

It’s a quiet summer evening. Raindrops are falling from the grey sky, there’s some light thunder in the background. A pigeon sits on a branch just outside my balcony, slightly hunched. In the distance I can see the lights of my neighbours garden. I’ve been given oceans of time just to sit, rest and dream. A few days ago I had an accident – a single unguarded moment and I fell down. The same way as I did exactly five years ago. When it happened, my first thought was: ‘not again!’ Last time my rehabilitation took almost six months. But so many things are different now. My life is so much richer, filled with the positive energy of beautiful people and animal friends. I’ve picked up new skills along the way, like the basics of first aid and where to get crutches. I’ve learned about healing trauma, how to follow the rhythm of my own body, the foods that nurture you, which herbs quicken the healing process, and about the magic power of touch. I’ve learned how to stop striving, always wanting to arrive in another place than where you are right now. Most importantly I’ve learned not to despair, but to trust in myself and the universe.