as if to remind me that it’s time to take a tablet, the big cat starts drinking the glass of water beside me…
I can still see the terraces across the road through the blind but the grey night sky is coming down.
and the little one is off to a party
I’m always sending myself emails, writing little notes, ‘snippets’. I wrote those words above less than six months ago. Everything changes, everything remains the same. I’m still in the same house, one floor up from that room and in the middle of the night the darkness has well and truly fallen. If I stay awake another half hour I’ll see the clock go back an hour…another precious hour of life 😉
the little one moved out as offspring do
and my darling big cat has gone…into the bardo
(swift and auspicious rebirth big cat, free from pain and fear, close to the dharma xxx)
When I was young, summer was the jasmine as you turned in and drove up the long driveway. It was evenings by the pool, skin warmed by just enough sun, trying to appear cool/interesting to the cute sons of the eye doctor in the semi darkness – while the older kids laughed and teased each other, flirting.
It was family bbqs – father’s happy time. And it was watermelon…
Nowadays I’d love it to be jasmine but it’s more likely frangipani if anything – and that’s not bad. I’d love to get that physical feeling back too but it’s more likely iced diet coke with my aches, by the airconditioner…dreaming of the eye doctor’s youngest son, and a couple of other guys – the ones that got away 😉
Or doing a sudoku. Or flicking through instagram. To the sounds of my own thoughts.
And it’s mangoes…
The thing is, if you’re a surfer, how do you come in to the shore? The next wave might be amazing, might be the best ever. One more, one more, one more. The sea has a hold on you.
Waimea Bay dreams…
I’m just going to whisper this so that it doesn’t all evaporate upwards, in a spiral of dust.
It seems I’m going to get what I want!
The little one used her word skills this morning – you’ve put the intention out there for a long time, you like the bush and water, a small or semi-rural community…
The kids and I have bought a beach shack a few hours up the coast!
I know that I am blessed beyond…in a few days I’ll be there. Looking forward to finding my writing spot, exploring the little town, and reclaiming calm. Hoping it travelled ahead and is waiting for me there.
A childhood friend let me know, early this week, that her father had just died. It wasn’t unexpected and yet, for her, the surge of accompanying grief was.
She’s 58. I remember when my darling daddy left this earth a neighbour attempting to comfort me with ‘there is no good age to lose a parent’. I was 22. True that wasn’t a good age, but I feel sure 58 isn’t either.
My friend planned a couple of quiet days to herself before tackling the long drive home at the end of the week. It’s at least 7 hours. I could imagine myself taking off as soon as I heard the news. I always try to outrun anxiety.
Driving in panic, heartbeat as fast as the car can go. Not helping anyone.
You know the fight or flight when you basically run round in circles doing the headless chook?
Stop. breathe. respond don’t react.
don’t you love that moment when, after countless figure of eights, the cat settles down next to you and – leans in