Friday, 26 September 2014
Clean, but not always shiny
Some weeks just seem to happen in Technicolor, do you know what I mean? Events in the world around me and in my personal life have sharpened my senses to a point where I can smell, feel, taste All The Things. Maybe it was the new moon. Maybe not. It hasn't been easy. Thankfully I am grounded in the world I wrote about here and have never felt more secure.
There's no mistaking the fact that I can be fiery - Venus and Jupiter conjunct in Aries, Mars sextile to them in Leo - and when I feel the need to defend myself or loved ones I tend to launch into warrior mode. #wolf.
I came across a quote from Maya Angelou: 'Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.' Oh how that fire has burned, but I do feel clean. Perhaps these powerful and painful cleanses are necessary as we grow through our lives and our true faces are revealed. Even to ourselves.
I do my best to be honest here. I started blogging again because I wanted to record some life changes I was making and share any successes I've had or inspiration that I tap into. I value beauty - tangible and notional - as it eases tangles on all levels, so I really love blogs and sites that present things that way. I try to share the things that sooth my senses and make my heart feel strong, here and on Instagram. I hope it's understood and seen that there is the mundane, messy, held-together-with-tape-and-good-intentions side to it all too.
There's barely a day goes by that I don't have an argument with either Charlie and/or Evie. Dooley, in his enthusiasm to snog me, broke one of my front teeth the other day (now we match). Zoey lives entirely by her own whims and has never in nearly three years 'done as she's told'. Both the dogs eat large amounts of sheep poo on a daily basis (cross reference: the Staffie enthusiasm for snogging). My mother drives me insane. My father and I speak maybe three times a year. I adore them both. Evie is by no means unaffected by her early history. Our cottage is rented and falling apart. During the winter this glorious patch of land is 90% mud and shit and large parts of it end up in my living room rug (which I got as a freebie after photographing it for the Argos Pinterest pages a couple of years ago).
If you've followed my blogs for long you'll know that I write about this stuff too. Because I credit anyone out there reading it with understanding that a good life need not be Photoshopped and edited. I'll post a picture of me looking like crap after a night in a tent because you know I scrub up okay when I want to and who cares anyway? I'll post a picture of my dirty washing-up on a cheap worktop because there's one of a beautiful sunrise right next to it and again, who cares anyway? And now that dirty washing-up is done.
This is real. Real as fuck. And I love it. And that's my happy ending to this story.