Ah, that funny time of year again...Christmas is about kids and we don't have any. Been buying presents for all the god-children - we get them a special book each every year - and thinking about buying them for my own kids one year. Lots of my clients had babies in the last few weeks; the perfect Christmas present. They've been blissed out and exhausted and overwhelmed and joyful and sleepless and tearful. It is still a joy to share it all.
Planning a visit to see my beloved friend in Africa next year. I've been putting it off for so long in case I might be pregnant/breastfeeding etc. but there's a limit to how many years I can postpone a visit just in case! So I am going to book the tickets as a Christmas present to myself, to remind myself that every day is precious and fun and to be enjoyed and explored into each of its corners. This is my life and it is not on hold.
Monday, 20 December 2010
Wednesday, 15 December 2010
Today I have a luxurious day off which I have so far spent doing very little - lying in bed with a magazine (crazy, the guilt kicks in and then I think, No! Relax and enjoy!), eating a leisurely breakfast and sitting here chatting with my R. Thinking back to those days at the cottage when R would dash out the door at 6.30am and we wouldn't see each other all day, makes me realise how far we have come in creating a more chilled and connected way of living - it's easy to forget when it becomes 'normal'! We talked so much in those days about finding a way we could be together more and R could stop commuting (and losing his hair from stress and lack of sleep!). And we found it. Though living on a boat was not exactly what I had in mind, it has proved to be a transformative time in which we both, but R in particular, have discovered a lot about what makes us tick. It's been a big year in that sense.
So today, before I go out and do (all - eek!) my Christmas shopping I just wanted to remember how happy it feels to be hanging out here on the boat with R. He is currently fitting a mini woodburner for our next predicted bout of snow so toasty evenings in by the fire here we come!
So today, before I go out and do (all - eek!) my Christmas shopping I just wanted to remember how happy it feels to be hanging out here on the boat with R. He is currently fitting a mini woodburner for our next predicted bout of snow so toasty evenings in by the fire here we come!
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
Winter musings....
Wow...it's been so long since I posted. So long. Almost feels like a lifetime ago. I don't know why because nothing major has happened but things have been emotionally tumultuous.
Something I (finally) begun learning about was self-care. This has been a whole unfolding journey I am only just beginning to understand, but I started going to a natural nutrition course at the end of the summer which literally blew my mind. It gave me a lot of tools for bringing more light into the body, for nurturing and caring for myself throughout the seasons. It felt empowering.
And then came winter. I struggle with these darker contracted months so much. I can't tell you how lovely the summer months were; it felt like R and I had truly freed ourselves from something. We were blissful - long evenings walking along the seafront and watching the sea's changing moods; lots of social fun and laughter; time together despite busy schedules.
But these winter months bring up a mixed bag of blues and greys and sometimes blacks. In the Chinese five elements school of thought, winter is connected to the lungs and to grief. We found out in September that my mum has MS. She had known for along time but didn't feel ready to tell us until it really became obvious that something was wrong. She has been in denial for a long time. Her mum - my grandmother - had a very severe case of MS and was physically battered by it when she died in 2004. Since she told us, Mum has had two bad falls, breaking bones and shattering self confidence. She is getting around with a stick and starting to feel a little better....but oh, what a lot this brings up. It's like tilling the soil of an abandoned field of sadness. All of us remembering Nanny's illness and hoping this time it will be different. And sometimes I think I just can't reach in to Mum because this fear is hers alone...to lie with in the dawn hours. I think the cruellest thing about disease is how lonely it is. She is, as ever, keeping upbeat and positive in her warm sweet way. Nothing unfolds like you thought it would when you imagined your adulthood.
Work has been busier than ever. It has literally suddenly taken off - I was chuckling at my summer posts planning long days that R and I hung out together in our new boat life. I have been working long hours, late into the evening and coming back tired and crabby. R has been his beautiful, supportive self: cooking me nourishing meals, rubbing my feet, making me hot water bottles. I love him so much and sometimes I just forget it because I'm nagging him about where he stores his shoes or the fact he's left his towel on the bed etc. It has recently become clear to me that I tend to forget to look at what is beautiful in each moment - it gets lost in the cotton wool of life. In these crazy months of weird imbalance, his small kindnesses keep me stable. His love is a precious thing.
We are blessed to have a new little beacon of light in our lives - our new dog B (I accidentally wrote 'god' which isn't actually so far off the mark when it comes to worship!). She literally come into our lives and radiated her love into every corner (and after G's death, she had some big pawprints to fill...). Such a loving, exuberant little being - everyone here at the marina adores her. Having a puppy of course narrows down your options in some ways - no more popping out for an impromptu meal/cinema etc. - but in others just opens them up. Taking a long seaside stroll each morning does wonders to clear the mind and remind me to live in the now. Watching apricot strips of dawn sun streak experimentally across the icy clouds this morning was magic for the soul. We're also lucky that everyone seems to love B, our friends and family are only too happy to let her jump on their sofas just for a bit of that B blissed out companionship! It's cosy on the boat with her and Captain Cat but we muddle through. I've always loved a space filled with animals and think it is always warmer and good for the heart!
Writing this post made me reflect on the name of my blog - A Fertility Journey. Somehow, in the stress, overwhelm and emotional wobbly-ness of the last few months, trying to get pregnant has been the furthest thing from my mind. That's not to say it would not be the most incredible (unbelievable?! Gotta work with that deeply held idea) thing to happen ever, just that we haven't been making the time to love and connect with each other and so I think it's probably a good thing that we haven't conceived in this cold little chip of a time. I want our baby to feel the bliss from within our two bodies when he or she is conceived. We have both been tired and crabby and because my work is about looking after others all day, I really feel the need for my marriage, friendships and family relationships to be very nourishing and feel disillusioned when there is discord.
The funny thing is - I have created this reality for myself. I have chosen to spend my days rushing around, meeting the needs of others and feeling disconnected as a result. Writing this and writing in my journal has been the impetus I need to get back in touch with the light within, to stop expecting so much of myself and to make space to nurture. To be quiet and watch the sea. To light a candle and stare at the flame. To listen to the birds. To have a lovely long lie-in. Watch this space....
Something I (finally) begun learning about was self-care. This has been a whole unfolding journey I am only just beginning to understand, but I started going to a natural nutrition course at the end of the summer which literally blew my mind. It gave me a lot of tools for bringing more light into the body, for nurturing and caring for myself throughout the seasons. It felt empowering.
And then came winter. I struggle with these darker contracted months so much. I can't tell you how lovely the summer months were; it felt like R and I had truly freed ourselves from something. We were blissful - long evenings walking along the seafront and watching the sea's changing moods; lots of social fun and laughter; time together despite busy schedules.
But these winter months bring up a mixed bag of blues and greys and sometimes blacks. In the Chinese five elements school of thought, winter is connected to the lungs and to grief. We found out in September that my mum has MS. She had known for along time but didn't feel ready to tell us until it really became obvious that something was wrong. She has been in denial for a long time. Her mum - my grandmother - had a very severe case of MS and was physically battered by it when she died in 2004. Since she told us, Mum has had two bad falls, breaking bones and shattering self confidence. She is getting around with a stick and starting to feel a little better....but oh, what a lot this brings up. It's like tilling the soil of an abandoned field of sadness. All of us remembering Nanny's illness and hoping this time it will be different. And sometimes I think I just can't reach in to Mum because this fear is hers alone...to lie with in the dawn hours. I think the cruellest thing about disease is how lonely it is. She is, as ever, keeping upbeat and positive in her warm sweet way. Nothing unfolds like you thought it would when you imagined your adulthood.
Work has been busier than ever. It has literally suddenly taken off - I was chuckling at my summer posts planning long days that R and I hung out together in our new boat life. I have been working long hours, late into the evening and coming back tired and crabby. R has been his beautiful, supportive self: cooking me nourishing meals, rubbing my feet, making me hot water bottles. I love him so much and sometimes I just forget it because I'm nagging him about where he stores his shoes or the fact he's left his towel on the bed etc. It has recently become clear to me that I tend to forget to look at what is beautiful in each moment - it gets lost in the cotton wool of life. In these crazy months of weird imbalance, his small kindnesses keep me stable. His love is a precious thing.
We are blessed to have a new little beacon of light in our lives - our new dog B (I accidentally wrote 'god' which isn't actually so far off the mark when it comes to worship!). She literally come into our lives and radiated her love into every corner (and after G's death, she had some big pawprints to fill...). Such a loving, exuberant little being - everyone here at the marina adores her. Having a puppy of course narrows down your options in some ways - no more popping out for an impromptu meal/cinema etc. - but in others just opens them up. Taking a long seaside stroll each morning does wonders to clear the mind and remind me to live in the now. Watching apricot strips of dawn sun streak experimentally across the icy clouds this morning was magic for the soul. We're also lucky that everyone seems to love B, our friends and family are only too happy to let her jump on their sofas just for a bit of that B blissed out companionship! It's cosy on the boat with her and Captain Cat but we muddle through. I've always loved a space filled with animals and think it is always warmer and good for the heart!
Writing this post made me reflect on the name of my blog - A Fertility Journey. Somehow, in the stress, overwhelm and emotional wobbly-ness of the last few months, trying to get pregnant has been the furthest thing from my mind. That's not to say it would not be the most incredible (unbelievable?! Gotta work with that deeply held idea) thing to happen ever, just that we haven't been making the time to love and connect with each other and so I think it's probably a good thing that we haven't conceived in this cold little chip of a time. I want our baby to feel the bliss from within our two bodies when he or she is conceived. We have both been tired and crabby and because my work is about looking after others all day, I really feel the need for my marriage, friendships and family relationships to be very nourishing and feel disillusioned when there is discord.
The funny thing is - I have created this reality for myself. I have chosen to spend my days rushing around, meeting the needs of others and feeling disconnected as a result. Writing this and writing in my journal has been the impetus I need to get back in touch with the light within, to stop expecting so much of myself and to make space to nurture. To be quiet and watch the sea. To light a candle and stare at the flame. To listen to the birds. To have a lovely long lie-in. Watch this space....
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