This month I've been recording a new series of Tiny Adventure podcasts in which I've been visiting a hundred and fifty year old oak tree.
You can listen to the series so far in the podcast section of Go Gently (beginning here) or over on my Patreon page (where you'll also find some extra videos and podcasts that I make exclusively for my patrons).
As I start week two of Pyjama Fortnight (Month/Year!) I'm feeling rather like a dormouse.
This piece of good sense is from The Almanac - A Seasonal Guide to 2020 by Lia Leendertz. A recommended good read all year round. My copy lives in the smallest room in the house where it is sure to be dipped into regularly (this photo wasn't taken in said room however 😉).
Maybe this is good week for you to imitate a dormouse too.
Pyjama Week continues... :)
I am having a very slow and restful time, the prelude to what I'm increasingly thinking is going to be a fallow year for me. A year when I'll do my best to live quietly in the moment, make little in the ways of plans and as much of possible make use of what I already have around me.
This John O'Donohue quote has become a companion and comfort to me every since a friend shared it with me. It feels like it could have been written especially for the current situation.
This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.
Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.
If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.
Another friend found that is is actually part of a longer blessing called, For the Break Up Of a Relationship. In many ways, we are all mourning the loss of our relationship with the wider world at the moment and looking for ways to build a new relationship with a new partner, the world as it now is.
That is bound to take time and we need to treat ourselves gently whilst we do it.
With the cooler weather this week, it feels like the perfect time to declare a Pyjama Week.
I’ve got out a blanket and a favourite pair of crocheted socks and am spending this week in my pyjamas.
It‘s another day for wearing pyjamas and crocheted socks and sitting by the fire.
I’ve been listening to the wonderfully comforting Michael Horden narrating The Wind in the Willows and the following quote feels like a perfect description of a winter hibernation. If necessary, just replace “scribbled poetry” with whatever gently creative project is right for you.
In the winter time the Rat slept a great deal, retiring early and rising late. During his short day he sometimes scribbled poetry or did other small domestic jobs about the house.
—Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
I’m spending most of my days in bed at the moment, but I do try and get a little fresh air every day.
Today, Ounce followed me out and we picked a few blackberries in the field behind my studio.
It’s a very good year for hedgerow fruit here. Slowly, a small bowlful at a time, I’m gathering quite a harvest.
A very different view from the one we've been used to greeted me and Ounce this morning as we recorded today’s podcast at my gate.
The dark clouds all but shouted, “hunker down!” and that’s exactly what I’m going to be doing for a couple of days.
Yesterday, I emerged from an impromptu 48 hours offline. I go offline quite a lot, but those 48 hours were more of a struggle than usual.
Since my away from home adventures I’ve been reaching for my phone a lot, usually when I notice I’m feeling physically rather rubbish. It’s understandable that I don’t want to notice that I’m not feel good, but I’ve realised how much I’m using my phone (and my iPad and laptop) as a way of avoiding the feelings in my body and that’s not been doing me any favours.
The first thing that happened when I turned my phone off was that I fell asleep! When I woke up, the second thing that happened was that I noticed I felt terribly!
48 hours later, I’d slept a lot, read quite a bit and still felt not great—but maybe, just maybe, a little better.
I heading offline for 48 hours more. I’ll let you know how I get on...
Today I’m greeting the day by my gate. I love the view from here. This morning it’s especially beautiful and I might have waxed rather overly lyrically about it in today’s podcast!
It has been lovely to spend a few days by the sea and the early mornings on the seafront have been stunning. Yesterday, as I had my last cup of tea watching the waves gently lapping around the seagulls on the shoreline, I felt as though I could stay sitting where I was for a month.
Now I’m home and back to the early morning view that I’ve been getting to know for eighteen years, I feel I could stand for the rest of my life.
It’s been good to go away. It’s very good to be home.
I’m having a last cup of tea on the seafront whilst I’m waiting to be picked up and taken home.
It’s been a peaceful stay in Aberystwyth, helped by the equinoxal (is that a word?!) weather. So still and calm. A perfect Indian Summer, or Haf Bach Mihangel as this extra treat of gentle sun is called in Welsh.
Haf Bach Mihangel translates as Michael’s Little Summer, and that’s exactly how these last few days have felt. I’ve been feeling very blessed.
I’m still very tired and feeling rather unwell at times, but these last few days have helped me get into a very restful rhythm, which I’m taking home with me.
The Big Rest continues :)
One of the lovely things about being at home after my adventures at Gladstone’s Library is that I can cook my own meals again (and at whatever time of the day I like!).
It was a good thing to have meals made for me whilst I was away and needed to focus my energy on Gladfest. But this morning I woke up with the urge to do some experimental cooking and was so pleased to be able to.
So, at 6.00 am this morning I was wide awake and trying out an idea I’ve had in my head for a few days for black bean burgers. I’m talking about them and sharing the recipe in today’s today’s One Thing Today podcast which is available now over on Patreon and will be released here and all the usual channels on Saturday (21st Sept).
In the letter I share a little about my ongoing journey exploring ways to live and create gently. I hope the letter will encourage and inspire you to find ways ways to live and create at the pace that's right for you.
