Day 589: Fog Hug

What got me out of bed this morning was the fog. When that mist drifts in and does its dull knock the window, it's worth getting out of bed sharpish to be sure to get to the pond before it's been burnt off by the sun. 

All that watery mystery made even more mysteryy by the soft hug of the fog. Everything's soft focus, silenced and warmed. On the way down, I carried fog dew on my lashes, blinking it all cold and feeling magical. I imagined diamonds. 

Day 588: Blessed

Jochen Zaeschmar took this - ecocruz.co.nz

How lucky am I? The generosity of friends and good people blows me away, and the warmth and yessness of good eggs. I'm crownless, but queened in friendly loveliness. Thank you, thank you. 

The receptionist at my dentist's surgery seemed to think my suggestion of glueing my crown back on was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. His glee cheered me up, despite my twingey little crownless stump. He had a good old guffaw - and gave me an emergency appointment for Monday morning. Amazing.

And oh, I LOVE this work. I've been allowed to coach all day. It Fucking Rocks. Seriously. It really does. I adore the opportunity to do this. It's such a tasty, rich thing to do, even when it doesn't go great. I's been rich and fabulous and filling like eating food. I'm learning lots and lots and receiving gifts from all sides. 

Water and flowers. Stepping lightly. 

Blessed.

Day 587: Women and Men

Sweet cold every morning; sweet women to talk to and laugh with; flowers everywhere.

Work that's actually hard to do (but masses of fun). Lots of laughing. Good, helpful, funny people. A warm reception from an old workplace. Another five life stories. 

A visioning session that left me impressed and humbled, and with an awful lot to do. How lucky am I to get to be around people with such skill and life love and clevers? Rehearsals that catch me clapping with glee. Proper discoveries. Proper keeping going. Proper aceness. 

A date. One that is almost certainly just what it was, never what it will be, but worth doing in itself. The only part of me that minds that is my ego. The rest of me's fine. And a fascinating, meaty meeting about... not sure what... 

A richness of both nationalities/cultures and admirable men in my day to day at the moment. Thank you, Greg, Rob, Simon, Clarence, Rich, Istvan and Ari, if you count, being a dog, so no, actually, you don't. You're good, though. But thank you, actual men, for being what you are and who you are, and all manly in your different ways. 

Day 586: Sleek

Fine little flitter

The magnitude of good things that have taken place since I last wrote is just steamrollerly... I've been getting more and more weighed down thinking of writing. Then I realised that none of that is the point. There's no need to record everything delicious that's happened, nor do I 'owe' a mention to all the ace people who've done their doing. 

Butterflies dancing along the canal path, speckled with light. I was doing vocal warm-ups. They were just busy flitting. Little white ones with orange-tipped wings, autumn-coloured ones, cabbage whites (if that's even a thing). 

Slicker than this

I'm back swimming daily. Oh, oh OH, that pond, that haven of beauty and cold kissing water, where I feel carried and caressed. Its beauty changes every day. The different ducks and their beady eyes, sometimes open during their one-legged sleep. Today, I came close to the cormorant. I loved watching him disappear and bob back up. I suspected he might rip up, Alien-style, through my very belly. He wouldn't though, would he. He's after fish, not my entrails. 

Buddleia butterflies

The barrier is newly up, so I swam to the very end today. By that time, the cormorant was out stretching his wings like Gormley's Newcastle sculpture. Close up, he's the colour of an oil slick - blues and browns glistening and shining - and sleek like you wouldn't believe. 

I've been well crowed these past few days too. There's an ungainly beauty about a crow, especially one on the ground. I always feel a little humbled looking at them. Powerful and vulnerable at the same time. Caw.

Day 585: There Is Bacon

A crow on a pavement with a grape in its mouth, held delicately. Poetry. 

On a train, over the tannoi: "This is a passenger announcement: there is bacon...". Spoken with an upward inflection and an almost-smugness, like some kind of flirtatious suggestion. God, I prayed that it would stop there, or that she'd end it with 'Just sayin'.', but no, she continued the list, in the end, after a humungous pause filled, in my case at least, with glee. 

Challenges met by good friends. Ungroundedness again, a bit. My home is not to be my home for long. Again. I'm processing that. I was cool with it (and there's nothing at all I can do about it) but I realise that I've already started to think of it differently, and to consider having no base at all again, and to put paid to the reason for moving here and the intention with which it was done. 

Work-based challenges too, and personal ones, all intertwined, and a lonesome ache for community and belonging, somewhere, in a truly-madly-deeply fitting way, in some part of my life, and for a purpose. And I understand, of course I understand, that until I find it here, until I stop looking outside and needing other people to help/approve of/love me, then this experience will continue to present itself for my sampling pleasure, and that it's only by letting go of any need for all of those things, even though, in my world view, they are fundamental human needs, that they will show themselves as always having been there and always there to catch me when I fall.

It's not the situation that is 'bad', but the not accepting of a situation that can make it painful, or challenging, or wrong. Start from where you are. Here I am. I want to be there, so I'll just start... No. Start from here. Otherwise, it's like trying to dream someone else's dream or think their thoughts. Not possible. Not in this realm, anyway. Other arenas may well prove me wrong.


A leap of faith needs to be taken. I haven't been let down yet, except in/by/through my mind. The universe, whatever we may be, always provides. 

Maybe I need to walk a few more high-wires to put it to the test. 

Day 584: No Sign Big Enough

A lovely family visit, which makes me very happy - interesting people all round - followed by a fine flat visit. Big shift. It's going on the market. That's huge. Here's a big open prayer, that it be a fantastically happy affair for me, selling this place, and for the people buying it (as it was when it was bought/sold last time) and that it coincides with everyone's plans beautifully, in a serendipitous way. And that it provides us all with what we need and more. Lovely buzz. 

And now a festival of Harveys - a dose of those fine, fine people. When I spend time with them I realise that it's worth waiting - loving relationships can be outstanding and rewarding and wonderful, and when people find each other with such a fabulous amount of joy and click and match, it's a pleasure to be around. You've done well and you inspire me, Harveys. And oh, that baby!

We done a yoga, lots of talking and laughing, lots of baby joy and a lovely meal out. I'm impressed... always impressed. I love these people, and the littlest is already such a giant person already (in a tiny wee body).

This made me smile on Saturday. I didn't take the time to find out, but I believe them.

And in a conversation about the Universe, with that Victoria Sandison: "In my head, the Universe is Northern and a bit jaded."  I think the Universe in her head had just called her a twat - or maybe that was my imagination. I love that concept... I'd like to manifest a great new job, please, Universe. "Well, you can have it if you want, love, but you won't like it, trust you me. It'll be shit when you get to the nitty gritty. Here you go, then. Don't say I didn't warn you. Twat!"  I quite like that version of it. Like someone on Coronation Street (Vic again). Brilliant!

I love that she's coming home for a while and that she is almost certain to come and stay with me... very joyful news, that is. I have a busy, happy week on its way. I'll need to be organised. I'll need to get my shit together and crack out a load of goodness in an efficient way. Good challenge. Good beans. I'm excited.

Day 583: With Beard

Oh god that dog. It nearly wagged itself off the ground when I came home, like a tiny helicopter. He has been washed, and my nuzzling now releases a Timotei tang. Today, I managed to resist eating the dog again. Today is a good day. 

Neil Bett - always an absolute delight. Charles - a brand new delight. A day cancelled on full pay tomorrow - another joy, and a first for this company. Very happy, as work was threatening to eat my brains. 

Thank you, Internet, for 'Your Favourite Disney Princesses with Beards'. I am ashamed of myself for spending even minutes of my life viewing such tosh, but I am grateful for the people that post their creativity into making it. It was on a par with 'Ryan Gosling doesn't want to eat his cereal'. Oh god.


I got to see Mirjam Lencarelli, yoga goddess, in Zurich. I played in said city with LOVELY people and experienced a Wandsworth penthouse flat and a runnish dog. I moved house. I met lovely Luis, staying in the house, ex half owner of the cutest sausage dog ever. I will get to see Catherine and Caroline and Fiona - all yoga beauties. I had a strange letter which I think I'm pleased about. I've had lovely offers of work. 

I've laughed out loud loads. I've had more life stories from strangers. I've coached and been coached. I've made changes. I'm excited. And grateful. So grateful.

Oh, and Victoria Sandison is coming
home - for a little while!

So many tiny things, but one that stands out - being called over to smell a hyacinth by a lady at the pond. I'd have walked past it. I wouldn't have stopped. It was rich and exotic and heady and it absolutely made my day. Thanks, for the tip, for the flowers, for the growing of it and the caring for it and for just that moment, in the post water glow, sharing a sweet scent with some warm people. Magical.

Day 582: Abandoned

crosser than this man

I am witnessing a small man standing very close to a bigger man (who is sitting) and talking VERY loud. I saw him do the same earlier, possibly to the same man, only this time the taller man was also standing, and the smaller man was EVEN LOUDER.

While cocking around in a revolving door, I inadvertently made it hard for someone behind me to get through. He was walking with a stick. He wasn't hurt, but he was put out. When I saw him, I was sorry, so I waited till he came through and I apologised to him for being inconsiderate. His response: 'No, you don't give a shit, do you.' Interesting. My response was not as Zen, or as compassionate, as I'd have liked. I said 'Well I do, or I wouldn't have stayed to apologise.' Not the point, my lovely. Not the point. The man is angry. I am sorry for my part in causing that. Both those things can be true. There's no point fighting him, even in my head, because he didn't hear/want/accept my apology. And though that may not be what I want, it is okay.

A trip to IKEA tonight. I feel dirty. Not only because of the filthy hot dog and other dangerous food consumed there, but because of the sheepy, consumy and partly quite delightful experience of it. It's an antichrist to the sustainability gods. It's all about cheap labour and mass production, boxed living (quite literally, and mentally, oh so much!). And I had a nice time. I had a laugh. I went there with the least likely of my friends that I'd have expected to be there with (I was going to say 'the least likely person on the planet', but let's be realistic... me and Renee Zelweger in Neasdon IKEA? Me and Angela Merkel? Gnashing it up large on a filthy hot dog with the Dalai Lama? Less likely.)


This post was abandoned, because too many lovely things happened, and I got waylaid. Know, though, that I have had an outstanding few weeks, for which I am very grateful indeed. I also kept aware of the tiny wonders in my life day to day, and marvelled. I have written a hundred fine blog posts in my head. Back to it. Back to it.