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Published: December 11th 2008
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Me
Watching the sunset A new country, a new continent, a new part of the planet.
After having spent so long in a city like London building up constant barriers to protect myself it's a strange process letting myself unfold...peeling away layers, letting my surroundings under my skin. I suppose we humans are in constant interraction with our environment...we breathe in oxygen, we ingest nutrients and liquids, even our skin is semi-permeable, allowing certain substances from the external to the internal. But I've spent so long in denial of this, trying to block everything else out, the constant noise, distorted energies, other peoples emotion, other people's baggage. I am so sensitive I soak it all up like a sponge. Cursed and blessed. Depending on how you see it or where I am. Cursed, living somewhere like London. So being somewhere peaceful and remote and being able to consciously open myself is an intense and overwhelming experience for me. Over the past 2 weeks I could sit on a rock overlooking the valleys, no humans visible to the eye and consciously soak in my surroundings, watch the sunrise and allow light and colours beneath my skin, let stars imprint themselves behind my eyes, become so
View from my bedroom in India
Watching the sunrise every morning in tune with my natural sensitivity that by the end of the week I could literally connect with the moon's energy. Wow. And then I headed into the nearest town to run some errands and fainted I couldn't deal with all the energy flying about, I was so open and exposed, I just soaked it all up and it was system overload and then shut down.
It was a good preparation for Delhi though, my final destination on my way out of India. I arrived at 6 am and after a nap in my hotel had a marvelous day enjoying my own company, getting lost in narrow alley ways and bazzars and markets. I watched a man whose job it was to pluck eye balls from skinned sheep heads. I took the Delhi metro and ridiculously became almost tearful it was such a crazy experience...can you imagine, a tube in Delhi so much more superior in every way than London - airconditioned, modern, clean...but with a sadhu sitting in the train with his staff and orange robes? I sampled deep fried stuffed paranthas from giant cast iron woks, ate sticky gulab jamens wandering down alley ways along side goats
Me
Writing in journal and the most regal and divine looking cows. Delhi cows are something else. Each Indian city has it's own kind of cow and when you see Delhi cows you can understand why they are considered divine. I got my head shaved again and got a head massage with alma oil. Or head wacking and pounding, whatever way you see it. I took myself to a Bollywood movie but walked out half way through it was so unbearable. I can't hack seeing women being objectified in such a two faced, hypocritical society. Rah. I bought a camel skin vest. Then wondered about how this sits with my newly acquired state of vegetarianism. It's very pretty though.
And then I flew to New Zealand and was met by gorgeous Rowena at the airport, driven to her little cottage between Auckland and Hamilton and here I sit now surrounded by green fields with grazing cows, connifers, the sounds of birds chirping, the turkey gobbling, on a break from working at her mothers herb garden and tea rooms.
Since I arrived I am overwhelmed by a huge wave of sadness that clings to every moment. This is the week I would have given birth, had I not had my miscarriage. I thought I'd be fine. I thought I'd put it past me, but I think these things go beyond the mind and rational thought. My body, my tissue, womb, the space between my cells remember. And it cloaks everything I see and feel and do. I think he has no idea what this time means. He is busy planning on moving in with his 21 year old newest edition. Fuck, I thought being on the other side of the planet would mean I'd forget about all of this and forget about him but the pain is still so present. And so intensified by his obliviousness to it all.
Sometimes it feels good to be sad, to give yourself the space to feel each crevice and nuance of it. For a while at least. And what a beautiful place to feel sad.
Each morning I wake up and do yoga on the porch outside with Rowena, saluting the New Zealand sun. After breakfast we head over next door to the tea rooms where I help wherever I am needed... collecting edible flowers from the herb garden like violets and nasturtiums and angelica and borage and then using them to decorate the scones we make...lavendar scones, date and rosemary scones, all lovingly made with herbs from the garden, then adorned with dollops of whipped cream and little flowers and placed on Victorian tea trays decorated with roses from the garden. I help make chutnies like kiwi & mint and apple & garlic. Rose petal jam. Drying lemon verbena leaves for tea. I am so in my element here, so in love with this world it's almost painful. It intensifies my sadness. I think I belong to the sub species of human, so sensitive to everything that we reguarly teeter on the brink of madness...the world can be so astoundingly beautiful and yet so brutal it's painful. I can't decide whether being alive in this physical body in this physical realm is the best thing my spirit has ever encountered or whether actually I'd rather just not be here. I seem to oscillate between the two.
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