Thursday, 27 August 2015

Riding life

Old friends... it has been a good few weeks since I posted. Things have been busy, I have been up-rooting and making new roots in our new home, and working towards my final deadline for the PG Dip. The PF (Practice File) was finally submitted this morning; all 90 pages of it. This is probably about three times the length of my undergrad dissertation and although I enjoyed writing most of it, I do feel a little bad for the one unsuspecting tutor who has to sit and read every one of those hand-crafted words and produce a valid grade at the end. This is assuming they reach the end without giving up on reading it completely.. I submitted it quietly - without a word to any friends unless they asked (apart from Tasha of course who witness my sheer joy at about midnight last night when it was all printed and I was like a proud mother, slightly crazed. But infinitely proud). I think I have been silent about it because it is done. It is over and I feel like I am already moving forward and although it was a huge piece of work, I feel oddly OK with it. I have kept calm and still feel no different now it is out of my hands. I processed this ending. Perhaps I will process it even further and it it will surprise me. Goodness knows, if life is predictable in any way it is that it is gloriously unpredictable. So who knows... The universe will decide. Or I will (that depends on how much responsibility I am willing to take!)

OK, it is late and no more free-writing fun. As it has been so long since I posted I realise I have still not shared a few pictures of the last week in Barcelona when I was joined by my dearest sister (a month ago now - a few pictures below!) Both her and I have spent a lot of this summer so far travelling. Even as we speak she is hundreds of miles away. I miss her greatly. I also miss Barcelona one hell of a lot. Really I miss the views, the company, the feeling, the person I am when I am there... BUT on the other hand, life is looking exciting. New post-qualification and new-home horizons expanding and that is never a bad thing...

'If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is' 
-Charles Bukowski

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

500 miles, removal vans, and 3 minor injuries.

It has only been a week and a half since I returned back to the UK after an incredibly peaceful, adventurous, fulfilling, productive, and simply bloody marvellous time in my home from home, Barcelona. A week and a half since I returned, and in some ways it feels like I have been back on home-turf for not even one day. Yet of course in other ways it feels that I have been back for much longer. The ever-fascinating illusion of time. I have still not fully unpacked my case, but all for very good reasons. I have travelled 500 miles up and down the country, visited family and dear friends, trialled new yoga classes and found that there is nothing (I truly believe this...) that can make you feel so welcomed and at one than entering a yoga class full of stranger yogis and just beginning the class. Really, I met a therapist not so long ago who I hoped would welcome me with open arms yet after five minutes in her company I wanted to leave the office never to return. Yet in this yoga class, a space where not a word is really spoken, apart from the usual 'welcome/take a mat/what's your experience, do you have any injuries....' I found much more connection than I did with a person who connection, I'd have hoped, was her second nature. I am an independent and competent woman but we all need to feel our feet firmly rooted on the ground of a home. We need to feel welcomed and loved. This hour and a half class gave me that. Try it... a class of strangers. See how possible it is to feel welcomed by people who know not a single thing about you and do not even need to know.

Anyway, I have indeed travelled 500 miles, I have been welcomed by others (and not just the yoga class...) I have also moved house (finally!!!), acquired three minor injuries in the process, found a new appreciation for removal vans and those who offer their time to drive them. I have also not surprisingly discovered my inability to let go of Spanish olive and melon eating habits (although less red wine has been consumed), and likewise found that I am now clinging onto my trusty sandals and my blue stone necklace as if they are the only parts of Barcelona that will remain with me. These are of course the positive parts of this week and a half. The parts I choose to write, but I am surprised that I am still awake. Evidently the Spanish timing of my circadian rhythms has not yet changed. I still eat late and sleep late and that is perfectly fine.

I am no longer nomadic, I have landed in my home. It is half unpacked but I am with wonderful company and it is home. I miss Barcelona, but I suspect it is more than just the city that I miss.