Pink Spotty Dressing Gown

Pink Spotty Dressing Gown

When my daughter was born I had a pink spotty dressing gown.

Many, many nights did I spend awake, nursing a crying, sick, fractious baby. Many many days too. Sitting alone in my lounge chair, baby at my breast. Watching the dishes and laundry pile up…watching my old self and way of life slip away.

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Menstruation My Way

Menstruation My Way

As I approached the void of my cycle at the end of September last year, I felt a deep urge to record my process as I moved through the five chambers of menstruation. I’m so glad I did, because staying so close to my journey has enabled me start a process of reconnecting with myself.

As of March last year I became a single Mum. The process of separating from a 16 year marriage is worthy of a whole other series of blogs (I’m warning you, they’re coming!) but it also left me completely adrift as to how I was ever going to be able to find the time and space to drop into the depths of menstruation in the way I feel I need each month, with a home and two young children to care for.

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Vulnerability

Vulnerability

Here I sit today writing on day 27 of my Menstrual cycle.

The call inward through my own inner landscape toward the Holy Temple of Menstruation is well under way. The boundaries and the layers I wear in the outer world have been slowly dropping away.

I sit here at the door of menstruation, waiting patiently to be granted entry.

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A Season With The Critic

A Season With The Critic

Day 24: On waking the realization hits me…I’ve got a full day of home educating my two children today. In that moment it actually feels like the last thing I would like to do on day 24 in the whole world (my Autumn loves a drama). I briefly fantasize about how I would spend the whole day if I were alone wandering in the woods, communing with trees and living true into the deep wildness I feel in my Autumnal soul. I fantasize about earth, soil and magic.

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