I am revelling in the glory of all my lovely women friends and how lucky I am to be loved by the richness of female loveliess in my life.
Today, working in Zurich, I had the pleasure of my dark and shiny angel sister Mirjam Lencarelli, met on a yoga course just over two years ago. We met again last year when I was here on the same job. This year, after coffee and sharing of our funniest and most intimate stories, we went to the Sauna on the Lake - a bouncing jetty backed up by a row of saunas. You can swim naked and tiny in Lake Zurich and then hot yourself up in one of three saunas, two relaxation rooms or the cafe. You can also hang out outside, which we did when the sun was out.
I can't believe how lucky I am to get to spend time with a person I cherish, doing something I'd have been doing for years, had I only known it was there. We dipped and swam and heated and sweated. We laughed a lot and I went speckeldy of the legs like a red and pale pink snake. We were there for three hours. Walking back, I was smiling so big, people were turning to stare. It's like being in love, just with the simple happiness and nourishment of a good friend and an excellent does of hot and cold and water. There was a little bit of hot chocolate action too.
Mirjam gave me her scarf, a truly beautiful object and soft to the touch of my even softer than usual sauna skin. I gave her my heart - highly imperfect, made of rose quartz. It's been sitting next to my heart for months and she now has it sitting by hers.
And the rest. In the last few days, I've been dazzled by the love and loveliness of Tiu, Ruths B and E, Val, Natalya, Amy and Barbara, but stretch that to just a tiny bit longer and the list gets fatter and fatter: so thank you, Lilley, Tulsi, Tanya, Laura, Emily, J, Kate, Kati (who I'm about to see - wheeeee!), Frea, Beec, Clubba, Pudding, SarahLonton, Lina, Nicola, Maca, Kim, Bridget, Dilly, Rach(a)els of all spellings, a few Fionas, a spattering of Juliets, Kath, Kathy, Klaudia, Caroline, Lisa, Little Jean, Jane, Pauline Pond and all those other brilliant coldwater women and god, so, so, so many more. And of course, my own actual blood-related sisters, Sarah and Anna, who I don't see enough of, but for whom I'm bigly grateful.
I adore the men in my life too - what a lot of fabulous people they are - and that's for another time. Today's about celebrating those siren sisters, and the stubborn ones, and the ones that tell it like-the-fuck-it-is (Pudding, I love you) and the funny ones and the ones full of full of full of love and the ones I see rarely but hold dearly (Clubba, Mirjam, Caroline, Gaelle, Lilleylovely, Tanya) and the ones I only just know or who are flung particularly far, but are deeply loved (Murry Judd, you fucking rock, you do, Amanda Garcia, Beata Radiccio Bean). I've missed loads, I know I have, and I'll get that weirdy neck creep when I notice I've missed someone I love with such flavour that I'll feel terrible they aren't mentioned here, but that's as it is and as it will be.
Thank you, all my sisters, and the men and women who love you. I am blessed (and really very clean and soft indeed).
This one's been a long time coming. Every day, I savour the words I'll write when I'm bowled over by beauty or tickled by prettiness. Every day, as I watch the willow's fringes drip heavier with leaves and reach towards the water, or watch the opening of folded leaves to the wet air, or revel in the little celebrations of colour smiling their way onto twig tips and joying up the air, I want to write, and then off I go being all busy and the words sit in my mind and in my mouth and never here.
The pond is a marvellous place to marvel this time of year. Everything's bursting to blossom forth - the growth compactly packed into every branch and bud is almost tangible - some just can't wait and grace us with hazes of green and pink and sun-faced yellow and others bide their time. I'm going away for nearly two weeks. My children will have grown and flown the nest by the time I'm back. I'll have to partake of the Danish forest's awakening, and the lapping of the cold Nordic waters.
There is a backlog of gratitude longer than my heart can stand, so I'll sit and bless the bliss of it silently, without even attempting to do it justice here. I do give thanks, though, for the deep, rich opening in my life, this year especially. Esther Lilley Mangala Many-names Palmer Harvey full of love, thank you for making me laugh on a course over ten years ago now, and for becoming such a pillar of love and conscious living in my life. Thanks for trusting me with your most precious and beloved little bear, for the role your fully grown bear has also played in this opening up, and for leading the way in loving, conscious, respectful parenting. I am drenched in awe and love, and I am honoured to be your family's Tante Hibou.
And sweet sister Ruth, thank you, thank you, thank you, for music and humility, for angel wings and wicked giggling, for inspired flamingoes with wings and springs, and for openness and love and aaaaaalllll the rest.
There is so much more to thank, so many more beautiful people to embrace. Be loved and though I thank you through the tips of my fingers and the dancing of my thoughts, know that it comes deep from the centre of my being.
If you look carefully, you'll find secret blossoms doing surreptitious flowering from behind things. There's a fistful of them at the pond, peeking out from behind winter reaching branches. You have to sneak up to see them, like you do with fairies, but there they are.
I've noticed rogue aromas too - there's a flowerying thing that does its smell at me when I cycle past it. It's one of those insignificant looking bushes that you think 'it can't be that', but it is. I imagine it smirking. I've seen flashes of yellow, and not just on daffodils. I've admired the fuzz of magnolia buds and their reachy faces lifted up to the sky. I've seen suggestions of pink and brazen displays of white on the bigger blossom trees. I won't say it's spring. My view over East London is still drily grey and industrial and the smoke and lights are the decoration, not the green of leaves. Still, there's life on the way. There's definite burgeoning. You can't knock that.
Today, I'm in awe of Frea O'Brien and her numerology reading. I'm often a bit skeptical of such things, but I'd heard how excellent Frea was, and she outdid herself. She was astute and intuitive as well as totally knowing her stuff. I was moved to tears a few times and I am still chewing over it all with astonishment in me. Thank you, Frea.
I'm also reeling with gratitude at the wonderful conversations I've had with some beautiful friends over the last few days. I'm
grateful beyond all measure that we get to operate the way we do, and to laugh, and to love each other in all these situations. I have learnt so much and have so much still to learn. Bring it on, with love.
First things first: a post. It's been too long. I've been away, and before that I've had another outlet for my gratitude, in that I've been taking part in a delightful Facebook project called Love Lent, organised by Frea O'Brien. In it, we commit 30 minutes a day for something wonderful. I promised to meditate, sing, dance, do mirror work, and pray. On top of that, write prayers and thoughts every day based on whatever was coming up.
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| Alex Grey |
I did really well and loved it, and then I went away for ten days or so. I'm just back and I find that it's time to pick back up again. It's time to pray to you right now, and to everything, just for this daily dose of gratitude to be more vibrantly alive in me each day.
Guess what's first... yes, of course, that water. I had to be up early early to make it before work, and I did (for which I am truly grateful). I slipped in to the prickly welcome of the water. I watched the sunlight move. I dunked. I looked for birds and found pigeons and one parakeet - screechy little bugger, he was. I saw another bird flit as I was leaving. I've decided that it was the kingfisher as my heart did a little bit of leaping. Why not indeed.
I stepped out stronger. My body solid, my back straight. I covered myself in the bliss of the hot water afterwards. It's so simple... the water, the cold and then the hot. The most basic of pleasures and the most rich of gifts. Simplicity is a kiss on the forehead, reminding me just to love and to be grateful.
And god, I have so much to give thanks for. Thank you, Ruth and Ruth. Ruth Edwards, for being my beloved friend and cousin, for inspiring me and for showing me grace and humour. Ruth Blake, you delight me too, with your hilarious self and excitement and wonder. And Eddie (oh, you two, you will still be mentioned in the same breath for many years to come), I love who you are very much, and I get to learn all sorts of things and to be of use as well.
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| Alex Grey and Rumi |
Thanks for lots of work these weeks, and for people who make me laugh. Thanks for new doors opening all the time. Thanks, Greg, for being kind and lovely and brave. Thank you, crows and trees and skies and thank you, Fiona, for your wise and intuitive support, and for helping me move more and more into a brilliant place.
