The Gift of Being Unwell

blog

In this state of unwellness, I am now surrendering fully to its wisdom. My body is far more advanced than my cognition, I’ve found. She brings me to a halt when there is guidance lurking in whispered dark corners of my consciousness, when I’ve been skipping around in the light fluffy parts. My ego has some pretty entrenched habits of clinging to tasks, neglecting my body’s needs and creating noise over the calm, gentle and tender expressions of spirit. I create a sense of ‘lostness’ when all this purpose-driven need…

Being seen

Having a body is hard. Having a mind is impossibly hard. All I can do is embrace this present moment for whatever it brings, regardless of what my mind is craving or pushing away. There are so many lessons I am learning through being unwell, and I hold the belief that once the lessons have been learnt, the wellness will return…

Liminal Space

eco-arts therapy

I awoke today with the usual pain in my body from this time of my cycle. But I also awoke with a feeling of magic. I imagined feeling pregnant, and embracing the surrender of this unconscious collaboration between universe and body. I notice in me this morning a palpable gestalt of pregnancy forming within, a preparation perhaps? I can taste the wonder of it all, and it feels very accessible to me. Perhaps the world is also alive with this feeling of procreation, collaboration, magic, wonder. This is a time alive in a transition. We are letting go of previous comforts, systems, safety protocols. I see this in how my phone, banking and insurance systems all had major blips yesterday. I am letting go of them, and them of me. Now is a time for reimagining. Birthing something…else.

Writing About Writing

Ah old friend. Here you are again. That voice that begins as a whisper and builds to a shout saying “write…WRITE”. It is still feeling like writing is only half finished when all I create just sits in my laptop folders, with neatly, methodically labelled titles, never read by anyone, not even myself. Is the writing solely a necessary vent for me to express what spins around and around my brainmeat, or is there something that needs to be written for someone else to connect to? Is this only for me?