I'm so glad you got your plumbing problem fixed. Working on plumbing is the worst, especially in older homes, and all plumbers must be masochists. It did make for a nice metaphor though. I've found myself getting very ritualistic in my daily habits in order to make it through the season. Your spontaneous walk with a new friend sounds like a wonderful way to break out of the late winter blahs.
I can really feel the reawakening, the heartbreak, and the wisdom in this post. Thanks for sharing a little of your fire in this story. January has felt hard for everyone I’ve spoken to, and I’ve been allowing lethargy and hopelessness to get the better of me, too. Something shifted around Imbolc, as it always does, and as I always seem to need reminding.
I’ve become a semi-official custodian for a small patch of land behind the churchyard, which a little community group I'm part of has planned to develop into a woodland prayer garden / forest school area, leaving plenty of good habitat for the many birds who live there and the roe deer who occasionally shelter there in winter. Although I can see it from my window, I haven't ventured out there much over the past few months, put off by the cold and mud and driving rain.
This weekend, I spent a good few hours there clearing litter, filling nearly two bags with cans for recycling and empty wrappers for safe disposal. An acquaintance reminded me of Peter & Alkistis’ Crow Work (https://scarletimprint.com/journal/crow-work) but my work here is different - I’m calling it ‘goldcrest work’ because I see them almost every day I visit this place, little kings calling me into a kind of sovereign responsibility. I want this place to feel loved and to feel loving, to restore the connection between the land and the people who live here. So I’ve committed to spending a little time there each day when I am home, greeting the trees and the little stream that springs up on the edge of the land, doing the things I know I need to do, to the best of my ability.
I agree that January has been hard in many ways, and for me I resonate with Rhyd finding the whole past four months difficult. Since coming to terms with what was happening in the world after the shock and astonishment I felt in the first half of 2020 I'd been on an even keel and it's so frustrating to have been on a rollercoaster again. I've come to see it as a necessary clearing out of all the emotional messes I need to let go of, and it has helped knowing that so many are going through something similar. Yet it takes an awful lot of patience with myself! I am sure that that connecting with the land is one of the most effective ways of healing all this and take inspiration from your beautiful example :).
Thanks for what you did with the salt. We do what we can, when we can. We have a house with crazy pipes, so we cursed the drain gods until we found this gadget called Drain King. You attach this rubber gizmo to a garden hose and push it down the drain until it meets the clog, then you turn on the water and it expands in the pipe, clearing the clog.
Thank you!
Simply beautiful. And so sad. Please keep up the magic. The forest needs you.
“We borrow fire from each other when we do not have enough of our own, and light fires for others for when they need them.”
♥️
I'm so glad you got your plumbing problem fixed. Working on plumbing is the worst, especially in older homes, and all plumbers must be masochists. It did make for a nice metaphor though. I've found myself getting very ritualistic in my daily habits in order to make it through the season. Your spontaneous walk with a new friend sounds like a wonderful way to break out of the late winter blahs.
I can really feel the reawakening, the heartbreak, and the wisdom in this post. Thanks for sharing a little of your fire in this story. January has felt hard for everyone I’ve spoken to, and I’ve been allowing lethargy and hopelessness to get the better of me, too. Something shifted around Imbolc, as it always does, and as I always seem to need reminding.
I’ve become a semi-official custodian for a small patch of land behind the churchyard, which a little community group I'm part of has planned to develop into a woodland prayer garden / forest school area, leaving plenty of good habitat for the many birds who live there and the roe deer who occasionally shelter there in winter. Although I can see it from my window, I haven't ventured out there much over the past few months, put off by the cold and mud and driving rain.
This weekend, I spent a good few hours there clearing litter, filling nearly two bags with cans for recycling and empty wrappers for safe disposal. An acquaintance reminded me of Peter & Alkistis’ Crow Work (https://scarletimprint.com/journal/crow-work) but my work here is different - I’m calling it ‘goldcrest work’ because I see them almost every day I visit this place, little kings calling me into a kind of sovereign responsibility. I want this place to feel loved and to feel loving, to restore the connection between the land and the people who live here. So I’ve committed to spending a little time there each day when I am home, greeting the trees and the little stream that springs up on the edge of the land, doing the things I know I need to do, to the best of my ability.
I agree that January has been hard in many ways, and for me I resonate with Rhyd finding the whole past four months difficult. Since coming to terms with what was happening in the world after the shock and astonishment I felt in the first half of 2020 I'd been on an even keel and it's so frustrating to have been on a rollercoaster again. I've come to see it as a necessary clearing out of all the emotional messes I need to let go of, and it has helped knowing that so many are going through something similar. Yet it takes an awful lot of patience with myself! I am sure that that connecting with the land is one of the most effective ways of healing all this and take inspiration from your beautiful example :).
Thank you. My heart lifted reading this
Thanks for what you did with the salt. We do what we can, when we can. We have a house with crazy pipes, so we cursed the drain gods until we found this gadget called Drain King. You attach this rubber gizmo to a garden hose and push it down the drain until it meets the clog, then you turn on the water and it expands in the pipe, clearing the clog.
I'm happy to see you writing more. You're perspective has been missed. I'm sorry about your special spot.
Not to undermine your grief of this place, but I can't help but relate it to Brigid throwing another log on the fire and laughing...
Lovely 🧡
Very lovely and moving post, thanks Rhyd
Wow, this writing moved me so.