Tag: Nature

Middle aged magic

Yesterday a hattrick of people separately told me in excited tones that today would see temperatures soar to 20 degrees. In March. How very exciting! I immediately got the towels and bedsheets ready for an overnight wash ready to hang outside to dry today. I know I’m middle aged when this is the sort of situation that sets my pulse racing!

Then this morning out of respect for my in-person clients, I faced off my shower dodging tendencies (and won). Go me.

Yesterday I was granted permission by the plumber to give the shower a wide berth. He had just changed my electric dribbler of a shower to a mixer tap higher pressured substitute. When he tentatively suggested I refrain from using the shower until that evening, I gave him some hearty assurance that I wouldn’t risk ruining his handiwork. I told him that instead, I would hold off from a hose down until today. Despite the unexpectedly hot and sweaty walk I hadn’t foreseen myself taking or the Pilates class with bands – I love it when we play with Pilates toys because I can find an absence of props more difficult, which means more likely to result in gut muscle pain. This can last all week which makes belly laughing painful.

Anyway, sometimes showering feels like one job too many in between me and immersing myself in all the exciting passions and pursuits of the day. Especially if my hair needs washing. I have a new understanding of my mother’s decision to cut my hair short when I was a child. She stated clearly that she couldn’t be bothered to wash it.  Something I seem to be feeling myself. But I’m not yet ready for a crew cut or is it pixie cut for a female? Nor am I ready to go grey or rather white and wiry … they started appearing when I was still a teen. And so, for now, I still force myself into the shower to wash my ‘short as I’m ready to go’ hair, when I can no longer get away with not doing so. But at least now it is quicker and easier thanks to in the installation of a non-dribbler of a shower.

In the name of increasing all comfort giving props throughout my home to respect my middle aging body’s changing needs, I also invested in a new bathmat. Not only is it pink and pretty to look at but utterly wonderful to step out of the shower on to its fluffy caress. This is in stark contrast to the previous one which was quite advanced within its second career as a pumice stone. Simple substitutes can increase pleasure and decrease discomfort! A win/win!

And now here I am in the garden, under the parasol, post clients and lunch, but pre the painting that every painting session reminds me I hate. But I am listening to the birds singing while watching the red kites fly lower and nearer than ever before. Wow. I love nature. It evokes a deep sensation of utter joy and appreciation in me. Or am I confusing this with procrastination from the painting? Or could this be the usual case of not this or that, but the other, aka a mix of all. Probably. Either way, it is utterly wonderful.

Plus, a spontaneous conversation with a fellow birdsong-loving female at church resulted in the acquisition of an app that tells you the name of the singer. I can never even remember the names of human singers much less identify which bird is singing what song. But this app listens then gives a name and a picture. Magic! In my case I got

  • Eurasian Blue Tit
  • European Robin

A spontaneous eruption of the lyrics,

‘I’m so excited … and I just can’t hide it’,

flew forth from my mouth in response. And no, I can’t recall the singer. I shared this dopamine dispensing moment of high drama with the one who introduced me to the app. It takes a lot for me to face off my ‘I want to scream’ reaction to the stress of apps, but I was mighty glad I finally remembered to do it this morning.

Oh what fun!

I am so grateful that I have emerged from the haze of hormonal hell that feels like living with an unreliable internet connection minus any let up in responsibilities that require it. Who knew stopping, being still and simply being in the garden, could be so utterly enthralling. Plus having the time and freedom to do this thanks to disengaging from any rodent featuring competitions. And having relinquished any desire to compete or compare with the Jones, Smiths or any other buggers.

This is contentment right here. The washing is drying (slowly) on the line, the outdoor cushions are drying off – they were so well decorated in bird shit that I wondered whether one was secretly living in my shed over winter. The birds are singing. The yellow butterflies are doing a flutterby and …  the painting is waiting …

Sunny soul-soothing Saturdays

What a glorious day, more so for the stretch of sun-hiding-grey we have just endured.

Today, I cancelled my scheduled plans to gift myself the space and solitude that is essential for me to grieve well. It was this week that ended my friends suffering of cancer. And for me, the best way to grieve is to grant myself a break from doing, to give extra time for being. I need the space, silence and solitude that allows spontaneity to have its way.

First thing, this involved fresh coffee, drank in bed while savouring the silhouette of the tree branches against the changing sky. As a recovering rush/do-a-holic, who regularly relapses, nature offers one of my most effective ways of stopping. Nature gives of its ever changing, soul satisfying scenes, that stun me in to stopping for long enough to savour them (sometimes!). Gosh that was a lot of s’s.

Anyway, the deepening of the blue sky enhanced by the increased presence of the sun saw me unable to resist going out to play in God’s great playground. I’m a visual person and I wanted to see how everything looked in the crisp white frost. I got dressed and brushed, if not washed (don’t judge, I was going solo) and sauntered off to see where my feet took me. I wanted to get a paper anyway so, I opted for the two birds’ approach of picking up a paper and letting my feet take me wherever they wanted to.

As is often the case, they took me straight to a body of water, on this occasion the river. I love to see it dressed in all kinds of seasons especially the magical, white frosty ones. It didn’t disappoint with the scenes it displayed. Next, I travelled by the river taking photos of whatever captured my attention along the way. Apart from the man whose camera was way bigger and better than mine! While prone to ‘monkey see, monkey want’ tendencies, this time I was grateful I wasn’t lugging that large lens around. I hate carrying things when I’m walking.

Scene after scene of stunning beauty sat there waiting to wow me. And I was wowed. At one point, a robin flew across my eye line before perching on a bit of wood off to my right. I love how robins have this tendency to fly in front of me singing,

‘Look at me, look at me,

I’m as pretty as can be’.

As I am known to sometimes miss what is right under my nose, I am grateful for their attention ensuring style for I do indeed find them to be as pretty as can be. As I fumbled around trying to take a picture, the robin refused to hold the pose and flew off in to the undergrowth. When this happens, I like to think it was a sight and moment just for me! If I do manage to capture something beautiful, I like to share it!

As I took a different route home, I happened to walk past a child’s playground. I answered the swings call to have-a-go on it. As I was happily swinging higher and faster, feeling free and childlike, it started making a disturbing creaking noise. Personally, I didn’t think I gained that much weight over Christmas but perhaps they are made for children younger and lighter than me!

At one point I even had to shed my jumper, scarf and coat. Not for long though. The top to toe refurbishment of perimenopause means my internal thermostat is still faulty. But at times helpful when the weather is cold but I am not.

The next offering of the day was a beautiful tree standing firm and proud while providing a meeting spot for the local winged choir. It sounded so beautiful I captured it on my phone to share. How I love these sights and sounds!

A little further along I passed the man who served me my newspaper. He told me he only walks by the river in summer. What? After showing him a selection of photo’s of where I had just walked (whether he wanted to see or not), he said he would go home to find suitable footwear and check it out for himself. I hope he did for it’s all right there for us to see and savour.

All along my saunter through these scenes, I was remembering shared moments with my friend. I feel so enriched for my experiences with and of her.

Fortunately, I was only a few minutes from my house when the movement of my body bought on a parallel process of some internal movement within my body. What started as a gentle knocking on the back door became more persistent with each step.  Some folk may call this an overshare, I call it, we all have a body which does all kind of weird, wonderful and un wonderful things and as a therapist I’m for talking about it all! Fortunately, I made it home in good time minus having to attempt a sprint in my walking boots.

And now, I feel lighter in every way. This despite having fed every part of me; the heart, mind, body, soul and spirit. That’s what I call a banquet and I feel very satisfied.

Now I will listen to worship music while making a sweet treat for tonight where I will be indulging in four of my favourite things; time with a friend, food shared, a film I’ve been wanting to watch and a fire for warmth. Log burner to be precise but that didn’t flow as well.

I might even treat myself (and my friend) to me having a hot bath first and perhaps a cool-bed-sheeted siesta.

And more time sat basking in the sunshine, tree gazing and birdsong enjoying. I may even get to read that paper but then again, that might have to be a treat for tomorrow.

Gosh I love days like these.

While my friend is no longer in her body, my experience of her remains very much alive in my heart, mind, body and spirit. And I’ll write more about that later.

Happy Saturday peops; whether you are happy, sad, or in between, nature or whatever your equivalent to this is, invites you to indulge. This is how we take care of ourselves.

Leave it be

I love the reminders that nature so beautifully bestows upon us if only we’ll open our eyes and hearts to notice them.

Nature does not rush; it has its own rhythms, timings, endings, beginnings and transitions between. These are all supported or hindered by the conditions of their environment.

One of the differences between this and our human cycles is that we don’t always trust our seasons, timings or the impact of our environment. We are notoriously bad at trying to make things like horrible feelings go away without feeling them so that they can move through the system. This results in them boomeranging back to bite us on the arse until we find the courage/support to face and feel them. We don’t need to get stuck there or to wallow but we may well need to wade through them – no one gets to bypass this reality.

We may also try to fast forward to some other feeling state/achievement/whatever we really want to experience, by forcing, rushing, praying and willing ourselves to be somewhere other than where we are. All of which is futile with the exception of the praying bit which is calming and soothing despite the fact God is clearly not English as he has no issue saying no, or not yet!

When I look back to nature, I have never heard a tree in Autumn, wailing, ‘don’t leave me.’ I don’t think trees are afraid that after a season of rest, they will not be able to produce new leaves.

Equally, I’ve never heard a tree in Winter panicking, ‘I can’t see or feel anything, will I ever have new leaves again?’.

And then in Spring, I don’t hear the tree’s groaning, ‘if you’ll just try harder, you’ll be able to make the leaves appear quicker’.

During the full blooming beauty of summer, I’ve also never heard a tree fretting, ‘this too shall pass’!

Maybe I am wrong as I am no tree expert, but this is how the trees talk to me!  And I love the wisdom they wish to impart. And the serenity with which they display it.

I have always loved nature since it was my safe place when I was a child. I still love nature which I feel connected to even in Winter, thanks to my conservatory. I read somewhere earlier this year that conservatories are out of fashion – hooray for not giving a toss about fashion!

And so, as a recovering rush-a-holic, I am trying to learn from nature about trusting in timings. This is very different to my default of going faster and faster and doing more and more of all the things I love doing, until the wheels come off and I crash and burn.

Nature whispers to me, ‘slow down Jo, trust in the timings of all things’. Whenever it comes to helpful advice like this, I tend to develop instant amnesia prior to putting it in to practice. So as a visual person, I now have a photo of a snail on my fridge!

Anyway, back to the leaves on the trees or rather the leaves landing all over my garden. A few weeks back, as I peered out of my bedroom window of a morning, I noticed a heap of leaves on the roof of my cabin. They weren’t moving. My instinct is to sort things out immediately, so they don’t build up and overwhelm me. However, on this occasion, I thought, ‘just leave it be, maybe the wind will blow hard enough to save you wrestling the ladder out to climb up and remove them from the roof’.

Remarkably enough, I did leave them be. This is new for me!

A few weeks later, when I looked out the bedroom window, these leaves were gone! And I couldn’t even see them on the lawn. Result! Thank God for the wind!

This reminded me that when I slow down, some jobs resolve themselves. Obviously, many do not, but sometimes, going at a ridiculously fast pace is ridiculously counterproductive. It can cause mistake making or time wasting by chasing things that would sort themselves out if I were less impatient and more trusting.

When I spoke to a friend In Scotland this week, she too had received a visit from the leave removing fairy. And she too was elated about crossing this off her to-do-list without getting up from her reclining sofa!

I think that learning to trust enough to go slowly will be a lifelong lesson for me when it comes to the practical application. Fortunately, nature displays these timeless truths every year in every season. And I’ve never yet heard a tree complaining, ‘I’m bored’. Perhaps because nature is ever changing just like us when we’re willing and there’s nothing boring about that.

Once the trees had finished shedding their leaves, I went to do the final leaf raking session. It was then that I spotted the leaves presumably from my cabin roof gathered in the soil behind my cabin. The leaf fairy hadn’t been quite so generous after all! I could not unsee or unknow they were there, but I could make a conscious choice to leave them be.

This reminded me that a year ago I left a retreat with the realisation that I always tell myself I will rest after I’ve just done one more job which invariably turns into tons more jobs. I decided to change my motto from, ‘I’ll just do x and then I’ll rest’, to, ‘I’ll just leave it be and rest NOW’.

Over a year later, I am finally taking tentative steps towards practising this art of ‘leaving it be’.

I thank God for nature’s ongoing reminders.