|I would like to look like that in the|
shower. I don't, I am an awkward
looking gonk with too much hair.
Before: I was tired from the night before, I got up fairly late, having had a dream that was as complex as it would be boring to detail here. I can only remember some vague emotions from it now anyway, mainly stress and concern. Before the shower then I was running through what I had to do in the day and growing despondent at the size of the list and the lack of time I would have to complete them.
During: It was hard to focus on the shower. I kept skipping off on other things. I half-heartedly attempted to bring myself back to the shower a few times but it felt alien and strange. Besides, I have grown used to working through my day in the shower. It helps less than it used to. I could feel myself growing stressed and being mindful seemed an indulgence I could ill-afford. I called myself a bitch. Feminine put-downs are new to me.
After: I was stressed and feeling down. This is pretty standard following a shower so unconnected to my inability to carry out the mindfulness task. I tried to stay positive by making breakfast for my daughter, but I'd already skipped mine, a sure sign that I'm feeling down - so it didn't help any either.
|This is just a beautiful picture. I love it. I love the gown|
and the setting, and the emotion of the woman. She
seems free and liberated, unencumbered despite her
clothing. Out for adventure, on her terms.
Before: That's me now. I'm about to go and visit, this seems to me to be something I can do whilst typing. So, right now, I'm feeling very tired, there's an element of satisfaction that I crossed one thing off my 'to-do' list. But then there's the knowledge that there are three things that aren't on that list that I know I need to add and another three or so that I should add and I won't get them all done this weekend. So, stressed again?
During: I'm playing Divenire by Ludovico Einaudi. It's summer and I'm walking down the path lined with bluebells to the oak ring. A soft wind is blowing from the south and the air is warm against my skin. I have my rucksack with me but I haven't bothered with my coat. There is birdsong on the air, a rustling in the undergrowth as thrushes and blackbirds search for their food. I close my eyes in the sun and just let it warm me for a moment. the air is thick, musty, heavy with the pollen from the trees and flowers. A bank of foxgloves grows taller than me and I can hear the buzzing of honey bees, the zip of other insects as they go about their business. It is a lazy day and the sky overhead is a deep blue, splashed with watercolour white clouds scudding softly across, barely moving.
I feel free, liberated, and I can feel the anticipation of being en femme rising in me, I want to run to the bridge and gather the clothes. But also, I want to simply enjoy the surroundings, drink it all in and go for a long long walk. I can breathe more slowly, for here my job is far away. I'm not hiding from it, I'm taking a break, it's like I'm on holiday and I've taken some time to be with myself in comforting surroundings. There is no one else here, I'm fairly sure that's because this place is post-apocalyptic in some way, there are no other people here any more, they've long gone. I am relaxed here, I'm me, and I'm free. The path is soft beneath my feet, not muddy but not fully dry either, there is dust on the air, somewhere is dry, but here is fine. It's green with the grasses, still low and yet to grow wild.
I walked, feeling the lung gong po of my breathing as I did, all the way to the dragon's lair. I thought only of the walk, wondering how far I could go, whether I would reach the hills in the distance that I couldn't even see, through the fairy forest, but I saw none of them today. I felt the earth move beneath my feet, both from my walking over it and from it turning beneath that hot sun. I felt the sweat trickling from my armpits and the slick feeling in my shoes as my feet did their thing. When I reached the hills would I see any view or would they too be colonised by woodland and reclaimed by the human-free biosphere? I wasn't there long enough today to find out, maybe next time.
After: It's a bit soon to gather my emotions properly. I may be more relaxed. I want to go back there, to imagine it further. I want to find the story. I want to link it to my novel ideas. I want to go walking, now, outside the city, over hills, in a place where I might not meet people all day. I miss the fells, I miss Scouts, I miss the outdoors.
What does that mean?