Shorestruck

Failte, Reader. Welcome back if you're a regular.

How's your week been? If you've been following Olivia's story for the past month, I'm going to do a JK Rowling this week and tell you the next 'book' will be out soon. The energies are telling me to wait before writing the next part. That usually means there's something I need to learn or experience that will be needed in the story. Fret not if you've been enjoying it. I have foreseen the entire tale, but every week, new aspects emerge that must be considered and woven in. Olivia will return. You will hear the prophecy.

The Harvest is In

October seems to have come quickly this year. For me, that's a nice change. Months were stretching long for a while there over the past year. Do you ever feel that? When life is, let's say, tricky, days and months seem to stretch longer. When it happens for me, I know I need to change things up, rediscover my joy, maybe do some healing work, laugh a lot, and generally pull my wellie out of the muck. Well, this summer, I've not only pulled the wellie out of the muck, I've cleaned it all up, so you'd be hard pushed to guess it had been in the muck at all. 

"Why are you talking about wellies in muck, Christine?" I imagine you might be thinking.

It's a metaphor for life, for getting stuck in life. When I feel stuck in life, I change my life. What I have, some might say 'finally', come to realise is that it's a pretty courageous, and somewhat untypical thing to do. I've always done it though. It's a normal thing for me. What I'm slowly beginning to learn is that the things I think are typical may not actually be so. 

Recently, I've begun wondering if I'm wired a bit differently to what we might call 'the majority.' There are things I do, like completely change city, country or even career, when life doesn't feel like it's going right. Notice, I'm not saying 'the way I want it to,' because life doesn't always go the way we want it to. I'm saying 'right.' I know things can't necessarily always go 'right,' there are hard times as well as good. However, up to a few years ago, I had always followed my joy centres, aka my gut, my instincts. Then I started ignoring them for a while, until this summer. 

I went home to Ireland and stepped fully back into flow. It's not been the easiest of things to do, don't get me wrong. I'm very blessed to have had incredible support from my family and friends, my mother particularly, which allowed me to fully recalibrate and find flow again. In the most amazing ways, I bookended my summer. It began, sadly, with the loss of a close family member's mum. Quickly afterwards came a fully flowing trip to Tipperary and Limerick, chasing stories through the beautiful Irish countryside (read a bit about that here if you're interested), and bumping into old friends in unexpected places. 

Last week, for me, summer in Ireland came to a close, sadly with the loss of another mother whose smile and energy lit me up many a time during my teens. Quickly afterwards came a very last minute trip to Tipperary - the final bookend - this time to catch up with a new friend, hear an incredible storyteller share his passion for the natural soundscapes of Ireland, and unexpectedly teach the keeper of a sacred well about a bullaun stone he had never been able to name. I'll share that well experience in the future. The full story of its bubbly geometry has yet to be revealed to me. 

Nature Speaks

If you've been following along here or on Instagram, you'll know that in between, I finished writing my book and began sharing stories and poetry on this blog. A couple of weeks ago, the podcast started again too. I feel like it's come back brand spanking new, though I'm getting a bit of flack for my cursing. (If you listen to it, would you ever message me and tell me your opinion on hearing women curse? I'm a bit sick and tired of being told I shouldn't because it doesn't conform to the ladylike image society would like me to have. I curse in real life, a lot. I don't want to have to stop to keep other people happy, but I do also want to have a podcast people enjoy listening to. 'Tis a confundrum for me at the moment. You can share your thoughts with me on Instagram).

Nature started speaking to me again this summer. No, that's not true; she never stopped speaking. I stopped listening. I have begun paying attention again. This week, I landed back in Spain. I spend winters here. I'm fulfilling a 20-year dream I'd had, one that I'd never fulfilled, but that also never left me. In a way, I'm living my own experience of Paulo Coelho's Santiago in The Alchemist. I came to Andalucía 20 years ago to move here, before going off in search of my 'treasure' elsewhere. Now, I realise it was right here all along, well part of it at least, just as Santiago's was. (If you've not read The Alchemist, that reference won't land. I urge you to read it.) 

From Me To You

I share what I have above, writing from the "I" because I do not enjoy reading about the experiences of others which result in them telling me how I should live my life. I write from the "I" so that you may read an experience and make of it what you will for you. Should something resonate and help you along your way, I will be fulfilled. (I'll be more fulfilled if you share that with me - hop into my DMs here.)

While walking the beach this week, I was reminded of one of my favourite sounds in the whole world. I stood, shorestruck, listening to it. Today, it played again, and the sea spoke a poem to me. Below, I share it with you. As you read it, consider clicking on the video on a different page and letting it loop. Do you hear what I hear? 

***** Shorestruck *****

A curling lap of thunder

shakes the shells.

Pebbles clatter like crates 

on a milkman's moving float.

Water becomes wind. 

Twirling forwards in a rush

receding slowly. 

Crash. 

Whoosh. 

Shiver.

Over and over

she ebbs and flows 

turning the shells and stones below, 

cleansing bodies as they dip, 

calming the minds of those whose toes

slip in and out of the shoreside foam

while up and down the beach they roam. 

Crash. 

Whoosh. 

Shiver. 

Water becomes wind. 

Shell to stone clinking

creates peace within.