“Acknowledge where you are at that moment in time, and how it can change…”
On Sunday the 21st of June, I was joining other yogis in a tranquil garden to do 35 sets of sun salutations at 5am to celebrate the summer solstice. A tawny owl was hooting from a tree near us. I clearly remember the quality of every sound and how everything felt so vivid. Three hours in the zone where the notions of time and space don’t exist.
Just the rising sun, my friend the owl and me.
Today, exactly three months later, I can’t do any sun salutations at all.
“I love to paint and draw, but as soon as you frame a piece of paper and stick it on the wall it loses some of its connections to the mundane and to the everyday. But if it becomes socks or mittens, it continues to circulate there! The inspiration starts sneaking into your laundry basket, onto your radiator, into your sock drawer, and it’s right there on your hands or your feet when you look down. I love that. For me, wanting to keep that rich cycle going of inspiration, daily life, inspiration, daily life, is at the very heart of my urge to MAKE THINGS.”
Felicity Ford, excerpt from an excellent conversation in between her and SpillyJane.
My son has been passionate with lego for a few years now. When I say passionate, I really mean obsessed. Lego has become his main medium to express himself. He gets inspired by the world around him a lot. He makes lego models of everything that he finds interesting, scary or gets his attention.
I know, artists do that. They often paint their surroundings and what (or where) inspires them.
What about knitting? In the same interview, Felix Ford describes how she knits about all the little things she loves in her everyday life, may they be digital recorders, plants, a church, a road, an old deco building about to be demolished in Reading…
She is doing in knitting what my son does with Lego: Exploring her environment and her feelings towards it through making something inspired by it…
When someone passes away, those who are left behind are left with a bottomless pit of emptiness. They can fill up that void with memories, sorrow, sadness… Nothing it seems will quite fill up that gap. And one will feel lost and at loss. I do believe that, despite what a lot of people think, Death is much harder for those who stay behind and are left having to deal with the loss of a loved one.
Words are useless. So are images. But music can soothe. Music is full of the charge of memories reminding you of your lost one… But it can also allow oneself to release the emotional overload…
As I ponder on the meaning of Home
I notice the universal sound, Om.
Om, Sweet Om – When do we get to go home?
Is Om, the sound of our universe, Home?
However hard we try, some places will never feel like home.
And sometimes we stumble upon a place and our heart sings: OM!!!!!!
I guess a place feels like home when we feel at peace with ourselves and the world by just… being there.
Could it be that once we are at peace with ourselves and the world around us, then we will feel at home everywhere we go? This fuzzy, homely feeling will be with us, for good?
I do think so.
She was waiting for her next patient to settle. While she was reading across her notes, the woman was lying prone on the table, with blocks supporting her hips. She could see that her legs weren’t quite straight as she noticed that her feet were not quite next to each other.
She started to apply pressure on the lower back of the patient. The woman’s body tensed up instantly and she let out a noise.
These last few years, I’ve learned to :
- Enjoy smaller, slower things and to take my time
- Sometimes, even though I know what is in someone’s best interest, it’s best to keep it to myself and let them make their own mistakes and learn from experience
- Respect the relationship people have with animals, nature and spirituality
- Sometimes what seems to be the most ethical or healthy option is not necessarily what’s best for everyone
- Not to be too harsh with myself
- Actually I don’t know anything
To me writing is like Nature Study.
As a water sign, I get to watch sharks,
Hammerhead sharks, circling inside my head.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Imaginary Friend.”
As I watch my seven year old son growing up a little bit more everyday, I get to hear a lot about his imaginary friends. They tend to vary, at the moment a whole pirate crew lives with him in his bedroom.
Last night he came to tell me:”you know mum, I really miss my pirate days!”
It reminds me of when I was a little girl, I had an imaginary friend called Jean Baptiste. And I used to talk for hours to fire hydrants, or “Gagons” as I called them. I vaguely remember watching a film called Pete’s Dragon when I was little… In which a boy named Peter has a dragon friend called Elliot, who is invisible to everyone else but him… I am pretty sure that I had imaginary friends before then, but this idea resonated with me a lot. I was a day dreamer. Living in my imaginary world most of the time. I was very imaginative, playing on my own a lot and imagining worlds with different characters living side by side with me.
I watch my son doing just the same thing. He is an only child. So was I. I sometimes wonder if only children tend to have more imaginary friends than children with siblings, who perhaps sometimes wish they had more time on their own?
I think Jean Baptiste has morphed into how I was as a child. Today Jean Baptiste is that child I used to be, looking at me with her big eyes full of wonder. She believes she can do and be whatever she wants. The world is hers. Today’s me finds some solace in feeling her nearby. As I get caught up with adulthood responsibilities, I sometimes wonder what that child would think of me or suggest for me to do right now?
Go and play in her bedroom, probably… And she would want me to knit a new blanket for her teddy Boulgoum, as the one she knitted is nowhere to be found these days!
Here’s a topic I find fascinating: The relationship between women and wool crafts.
In many, many civilisations, women have been knitting, spinning, weaving, felting… Or any other forms of wool/fiber related crafts.