The sound of letting go
It's a big yawn. A soft exhale. A carefree squawk of laughter. This year has been utterly different from what I hoped and planned for at the start of the year. It's brought many challenges and many unexpected gifts - more often than not out of those challenges. The end of the eternal winter and the start of the spring found me very low and I reached out for help. Antidepressants and counselling. Life rafts that have helped me float on through a year where the physical constraints of my knee injury had taken away two of my greatest balancers: regular yoga classes and long, wonder full rambles. They continue to help me now as I wait for an operation on my knee. Wait and unravel. Slowly slowly. No matter how slowly I think I am going there is a level beneath that my soul craves. Not a standstill but ponderous, languid, incremental. I write this from my room of my own. Feeling a pull back to this virtual space as I seek to kindle sparks of inspiration. The eternal building