Day 622: Irrelevant Butterflies

Look at these delicate beauties

The pond kissed me so nicely this morning, and gave me Wild Lily from a field in May... dancey yoga creature, carrying hula hoops (not the edible kind). And 5 minutes ago, this sweet story made me smile, as did the kind of uber-coolness of its teller. 

I find myself suddenly floored by the people in my life... there isn't enough time to make the most of them all. They are diverse, the people I love, on so many levels. I have so many different communities available to me, and I have such a lot of richness at my fingertips. I don't feel I have enough cells in my body to be thankful for all of them all of the time. 

Furry orange ridiculousness in moth form

I want to talk shit with William in Cyprus or play masks with William in Newcastle (or Simone in Italy, who's now in NZ, playing impro with other people I've met or touched (actually) or who've touched me (figuratively)). I want to hang out with Lilley and Daniel and their baby, or with J and her boys, or with Abdou or Jack or Barbara or all of them! PuddingJochenClubbaLauraFaceKimNerp
CircleFriendsHealersCheesecakeEaters
DancersClownsImprovisersYogisCoaches.
Aristotle. Beeeeeec! Steeeeeeeeeeeeeen!

Fiona, who will be in Guatemala. Annie, who has been and will be again. Sonia, who's there right now, doing good work. Danny, who's been all over the place today. It's not that all these people are in my life all of the time, or even enough of it, it's just that they're all so brilliant. 

Fluffbucket (walking moustache)

I got to speak to beautiful Cuphead today, and new lovely people coming in. I emailed people I met in all kinds of different contexts, in different countries, out of the blue or into it. On Thursday, I get to play with Maca, Ruth and Eddie all at once and on Saturday, another Ruth, a Rob, a Pam and a Greg... in between a LilleyTulsi(Daniel) and a Ned. Tuesday, Wednesday, a Rob and a load of strangers in a venue in Scotland. Tonight, just me in my bed.. should be sleeping. Will be any second now. 

Jaunty

And get this... if this was an iceberg, it wouldn't' even scratch a dinghy with only that much sticking out. There are so many more fantastic people already in my life, and so many more to come. I am blessed with so much love. That's good, isn't it!

Day 621: Blessed

How many times can I say that I am on-my-knees humbled by the beauty and peace of the pond? And how many times does it feel truer than ever before? Today - oh god - such a blessing. 

The phone rang just before I left the house and it was a little Lilleygift, a sweet snip with that girl who brings me so much richness. I loved talking to her. It wasn't as snip-snappy as planned, and all the better for it. As we talked, from my window I watched the sun make light of Alexandra Palace, picking it out and spotlighting it against a solid blue-grey sky. I watched clouds materialise, rain sheet itself over the building and the valley between here and there. I witnessed a double rainbow (DOUBLE!) and followed the shelf of falling rain until I was deep within it, from the windows being tainted with spits of rain to pummelled with torrents of it. 

And then it passed. The sun broke through (over the Palace first, of course). The wind kept ripping leaves off trees and making them dance, but the rain was nothing but a memory soaked into the asphalt. It couldn't get more autumn if it tried. And so to the pond.

We're tickling the back of October now. It should be cold. And yet, the sun was already warming the bench, still wet from the downpour, so I changed outside, naked in the sun and leaves, bare toes in the mud and on the grass. Standing on the steps, I watched a languorous back crawler make her way across the water, each lazy arm falling upwards and back down, luxuriating. Beautiful.

The water was very present. Not VERY cold, but cold enough to start to pinch the fingertips and toes, to palm the pads of my feet with the knowledge that too long in is not just silly, but dangerous. I love that this water can calm you and kill you. One of the first signs of hypothermia is a sense of euphoria - we know it well, us swimmers, but to taste it for too long is just not wise. 

A bit like this, only watchier and more indignant.

I would say smooth. The water itself was smooth and made of silk, but full of leaves, all gathered round the steps. Touched and scratched with crisped-up oak leaves, beech leaves, twigs, not just on the surface but through the water's depth. Despite the wind, there was a calm on the water's surface - undulating movement, not little frantic peaks, like some wind makes.

A single seagull on the ring, standing guard. More delicate than a seagull. Perhaps a tern? He/she watched us as we passed. I'd say indignation, if I had to personify the stance of this bird. Could have been its face, though... outraged bird. Incredulous winged creature.


As Jane the artist-lifeguard said, there just aren't words to sum up certain things, and the sense of privilege and bliss, of being ALLOWED to be part of this picture, body cold, heart joined with water, nature, light and (hippy warning) love. How is it that I get to do this? How is it that these simple, powerful pleasures are permitted to me?

There are, though. Look.

And if the water and the dive (deep, dark, leafy, cold) were not enough, the shower was so pleasing I failed to stop a little moan from coming out. So hot and determined, washing off the leaves, but not the pleasure of the pond. We marvelled, those of us there, at all of this, and wished each other well and then got dressed. 

This is just the start of my day. Truly, truly, I am blessed.

Day 620: A Puppy Solves Everything

Phooo! Three days away with Le Rebaldi adoré et la Barbara délicieuse. Can't complain. Was it really three days? It feels like that at least, because we rehearsed on Tuesday too. It's quite a thing. 

Big trip. Exciting times. Lovely people (them in particular). And a chance meeting on a train that is giving me gentle pleasure. 

And my bus ride this morning was brilliant. I decided to get the W5 for the kind of distance I really could have walked simply because I wanted to. I was in a rush and I had luggage.  And ANYWAY. 

A list of little pleasures about this bus.
1. It had closed its door and the driver stopped, opened the doors and let me on. 
2. Then he waved me in without paying, because his machine wasn't working. 
3. A man (probably no more than five years older than me) moved out of his seat to let me sit there with my suitcase, so I wouldn't have to squeeze it in. He looked like it was his pleasure to do that, so mine was to accept and say thank you. 
4. Then his similarly-aged wife, who was across the aisle, said that the driver had stopped the bus for me because I had a lovely smile. I mention the age, because often it's older people who take the time to say such things, but unless they all had wrinkly pictures upstairs, these people were younger.
5. She then went into a long anecdote about how lovely their last bus ride had been, telling me about the conductor lady and all the stories she'd told about her home roots in the Caribbean, and how lovely she was.
6. We all got off at the same stop. The man courteously let me off in front of him. Some of us said goodbye as we went our separate ways.

This kind of thing is all it takes for my day to be thoroughly made. 

And THEN I had a big, fat, long chat with Kim. I've missed her. She is rich like chocolate mousse, but better for you. 

I missed out on a chat with Cuphead and a puppy, but I have everything crossed that this will still be able to happen this weekend. 
Please?

Day 619: Internal Backlash Pie

Message from my fear-mind #1

Oh, fantastic! (Actually fantastic - not in a sarcastic way). I just had a big, fat anxiety dream about the TEDx talk thing. Very funny (though terrible a the time, I woke up crying about it!). I was in a big class of people - I was their peer, but they were mostly in their late teens. We had to show a tiny action on the yoga mat, and I did it 'wrong' - and had to do it again. Everyone was irritated. Then after announcing what came next (which was a set of practical tasks - chores etc) the teacher said to me that maybe it'd be better if I did something on my own, given that everyone was so upset with me. That moment - the one where you think you're okay and you find out that people think you're a dick. The anticipation of that feeling has stopped me doing so many things! And there it was.

Message from my fear-mind #2

I pushed him to deal with it in the class and handle it openly, rather than just let it sit, and I genuinely still didn't understand what I'd done in my badly-done movement on the mat that had made people cross. So clumsily, it was brought up, and people started saying - with laughs of disdain, disgusted faces and lots of irritation - that it was because of the TEDx talk. They went on to name all the things that have been spinning around in MY head about what was/might be wrong with it (which, fuck you, unconscious fear and shame mechanisms, I'm not going to name here). And they still didn't want me in their group. And most of them still thought I was a dick. Even the ones that were humane about it were making it clear that they'd be nice to me, but I was still a total nob who'd embarrassed myself. 

"Does that make me Craaayyyzaaayyyy?"

And the dream also involved climbing up a slope under a net with a flapping jackdaw who was singing 'Crazy' just like Gnarls Barkley, and kept apologising that he couldn't stop it coming out. I was both aware that this was weird and a bit beaky/flappy, and that it was very cool to be so close to such a beautiful bird (and to be having a conversation with it, which didn't even show up as odd.) How lucky am I?, I thought. We may have been excluded, but we were excluded together, and man, that bird can sing!  LOVED that part!

I love the unconscious mind. I love how my fear decides not to leave me, even after the event is over. It makes me massively keen to do more things that scare the shit out of myself. 
It's worth it. 

Day 617: Buoyed

What a rich bunch of people!
After a semi-productive day, a lunch and a long chat with my mum and a few successful meetings, I almost didn't have the energy to drag myself to Oxford Street (Oxford Street! On a Friday night!) to join a birthday celebration for a friend I met last week. I was late. I was really hungry. 

And thank god I did. Such rich pickings, beautiful people, warmth and humour. And stunning raw food (or lightly steamed, for those that wanted warm). I was buoyant by the end of the evening. I practically flew up the hill on my ("my") bike and caught up with sweet Klaudia, who had tubed it, right at the end. 

Now to the bike. I'm having a go on Greg's bike and I'm loving it. The gears are honey sweet and the traction is slick, like the tyres are kissing the tarmac. There's a bounce in the front but not too much weight. It's a pleasure to ride. It's a babe. I'm a little bit in love. I rejoiced in the riding of it all day yesterday, and got a taste of the difference - I've been riding a bike I just don't get along with and this feels so much better.

Day 618: Oh my fuck, I done a TED

Bloody hell... I done a TEDx. I'm flowing with gratitude. It was a challenge - more so than I gave it credit for, in some ways. It was a frantic push to find out what it was I wanted to say and help came in such beautiful shapes - Kate Faragher, Rob Grundel, Penny and massively, Enuma Okoro - your warmth and wisdom helped so much. Thanks, Fiona Sweny, for being the perfect presence at the event. I am so thankful for you (and it was lovely to see you).

I can't believe I actually got to speak. I was in such fine company. If there weren't photos, I might not even believe it. I feel very blessed. 

I am entirely spent, after not enough hours sleep, lots of adrenalin and so much stimulation. Lovely to see Dave Waller again after aeons, and to met Dan Attfield. 

So impressed with Rob Grundel, and very proud. He devoted so much time to this event, so much creativity and so much love. His mark was clearly on it. And what a team. Stephanie Busari, you rocked it like such a ninja. 

There's more to say, but I am soooooo done. 

Day 616: Hairy

I had to look up how to spell 'hirsute'. The definition made me smile. One word: hairy. Why is that funny? In any way at all? It pleased me, though. Actively.

Speaking of being actively pleased, thank you thank you for a stunning, enriching, mind-stretching week on retreat, full of the tastiest of people (one of whom is now staying with me for the weekend). 

I marvel, daily, at the people in my life. How did they get to be there? How did I get so lucky? How is it that the people around me inspire and delight me this much. My god, there are some good eggs on this planet - too many to stomach, almost. Almost. I'll do my best.