I’ve been waking for weeks feeling badly misaligned. We had builders in, next door have builders in, two houses adjacent had builders in. With all the banging, shouting and stress there’s been little chance for creativity; each time I transported to inner space interruptions brought me clattering back. In parallel, feeling predated a notch too far when I moved around in workout clothes for running and yoga, I switched to just walking.
Muted, twice over, my connections to peace.
‘Sad’, as the predator in chief himself would say.
Fuck that. Comeback time.
Read all about #52and40 here.
I’ve come to acknowledge I have an unhealthy relationship with competitiveness. It lives inside of me, waiting to jump out of my shoulder and be hideous to people or show off and maraud around like an ape on steroids.
I’ve become the patient, hippyish parent of this hyper, pulsing alter-ego. My body is its Steiner School. It’s treated with love and its bad behaviour is ignored.
I use distractions to lure it from evil. I praise it when it is contributing to positive outcomes that make the whole class feel good.
For clarity and cake hunting sanity, the interior cafe & cake shots are taken at Pentland Plants Ltd.
Spring’s arriving in Edinburgh.
It’s not coming all at once but rather in a series of packages that fight through the wind and the rain before bursting open. Little love bombs of colour and sunshine, drying things out and birthing newness that winter had put in a cupboard and told us to forget about.
Everyone seems happier, kinder and more open in the sunshine. The summer we arrived in Edinburgh was grim. The weather was awful and people were not for talking. I realise I can take that less personally now.