Merry Christmas!

Last day at work today which means less time on the computer and more time frantically knitting, sewing and cooking for Christmas!

All prayers appreciated at the moment. The Sumo had a terrible experiance a couple of nights ago and is, quite frankly, broken-hearted. Very tough for her.

Looking so forward to Christmas with my beloved parents and sisters and brother-in-laws and nieces and nephews and friends. Looking forward to going to Golden Bay and relaxing and taking millions of photograpsh and HOPEFULLY writing some new poetry.

Have a marvelous Christmas and New Years and remember, the Face of the Beloved is Everywhere.

P.S. New temporary header photo - Pohutukawa in Sumner. Love Christmas in the Summer.

Weddings and New Work

I went to the most marvelous wedding ever on Friday. I have written about it here.

Shaun and Danielle, your love and happiness on that day filled me right up. I am so lucky to be a part of your story. I am so proud of your courage. I am so proud of the way that you stuck close to what you believed, that you made your own path and you weren't swayed by the opinions of others. You took your time and built a home for yourselves that will outlast all the storms.

You help me believe in love.

You made me write this very soppy post, shame on you! Your wedding did not make me feel alone or 'single', it made me believe in the power of following our own paths. You follow yours so truthfully, it helps me follow mine.

Love love love.

Just so you know

I'm doing okay. Really.

Photo's to prove it:

Joy and Despair

Joy because, against all expectations, I really AM going to make all my Christmas Presents this year AND I'm sure that everyone will really like them. Pretty sure.

Despair because it seems the Black Dog is back, just when I'm started to be 'happy and secure' in the knowledge things were actually better.

The thing with Humans is, there's room for both.

New work

I've been working with my poetry a bit lately, on a secret squirrel plan to do with Christmas. Anyway, I found this poem that I think is one of my favorites. It's here.

You're probably tired of my photos...

But I love 'em!

The Walk Through Heaven Post

Cloudy ughy day today so no photo essay as yet. However, I want to make reference to my earlier blog post - a finger on lips - re: emotional pain.

When I walk around the river for my evening constitutional, I have been finding that despite the magnificence of the world through which I wander, still there is a dark shadow internally.

This scares me.

However, I feel that everytime I walk there, it heals a little, and maybe if I take this summer easy, I will find the healing I need as I walk.

New poem

Here. Wrote it on my walk. I'm back on my diet wagon again, successfully this time! It's going well, so well, I'm stoked.

Anyway, every evening almost I go for a walk around the most magic piece of river, where every bit of the world is perfect.

The poem is about that.

I'm going to do a photo essay soon, and I'll blog it.

But in the meantime, words suffice.

Time, time, time, time, time time.

Hi hi, not to worry, all is well. First things first. My sister has a giveaway here. Go on over and win yourself something free!

Second things second. I have some nice pics to update you with. This, a photograph from a recent trip out to Coalgate, where me and the Sumo strayed from the path and stumbled on this scene. From Heaven.

Spent a wonderful day the other week alone, on a riverbank, among the flowers and the birds, reading a book. It restored my soul!

Found this amazing flower in my mum's garden, when exploring with Rubes.

Finally, two of my favorite pictures from Coalgate.

Fantastic win

Great day today, major scary challenge at work today, but I rocked it!

Feeling happy, content and, most importantly to me, competent!

And, just look at my new lovely lady, who arrived from Napier this week:

LOVE.  WIN.

Like a finger on lips.

I have been thinking, lately, about old pain and what to do about it. A while back, quite a considerable while now, I had a big balony with a certian someone. A big balony. I was deeply traumatised. I'm a bit of a sensitive soul (though I seem thick skinned) and truly, this event was horrific for me. I relive it often, just as if it were happening again. The pain has not diminished.

Subsequent to this event, there have been a couple of other incidents with this same person, not all involving me personally.

I struggle with my feelings for them. I am confused. I am angry. I am furious. I am sad and disappointed. I am hurt and I am damaged.

I want to heal, but I do not know how.

So I get to thinking about physical injury. Does time heal physical wounds? Well, yes and no. Yes, our bodies are set up with the intent to heal. That is what the body wants to do. If you give it time, our bodies heal our physical injuries.

But, only if certian conditions are met, as follows:

1. The wound is cleaned and not exposed to contaminants.
2. The wound is covered and protected from further injury.
3. The wound is exposed to the air, so it doesn't get overly moist.
4. The wound is not exposed to other wounds, so as to avoid cross contamination.
5. Sometimes, it needs to be treated with an antiseptic, or stitched, or otherwise treated.

I think that non-physical wounds are like this too, as follows:

1. The wound is not exposed to contaminants such as anger, bitterness, the wounds of others, hatred.
2. The wound is protected from further injury, perhaps through distance and careful decision making.
3. The wound is not hidden away to fester, but exposed (carefully) through sharing and acknowlegement.
4. The wound is not exposed to similar wounds, by combining/conflating all similar experiances as one and going over it with other people who have similar wounds.
5. Sometimes, a bit of outside help is needed in the healing process.

These are my thoughts. I need to figure out how to apply this theory to my practical reality. Right now it hurts, like when I had a wobbly tooth and I didn't to show anyone in case they pulled it out (who would do that???? who???). Even though so much time has passed, it is not healed. Maybe I have not been treating my wound properly. Maybe my body needs some help.

My Friend.

P.S. I'm now empty.

Puking? Check. Diarrhea? Check.

UUUURRRGGGHH.

Not good.

New Hair

LOVE it.

Hope it still looks good in the morning.

Dancing with Siberian Huskies

It made you look didn't it!  Didn't it!

When I was out the other day on my First Walk of the Spring, I saw this fantastic woman walking her two Siberian Huskies.  Oh, I use the term walk loosely.

She was walking, skipping, dancing, clapping.  She was so happy.  She waved her arms.  The dogs trotted along solemn and slightly fierce.

I loved her!  I tried to keep up, but hey, she was skipping.

Knocked it of, yes I did

Knocked off the Hill of Death, oh yes I did.

Did something good for my own self, yes I did.

Climbed a big hill, climbed past the pain.

Yes, it's not much, but I did it.

Whanganui

Dear Mr Laws,

You are an idiot.

Regards,

Sharyn Brown.

Word for the Day OR Insert Whinge Here.

Word for today would be defeated.  After such a cool day yesterday, today was such a downer.  Found work very difficult, felt fat and ugly (thanks PMT), then total fail at yoga.

Also, today marks the official end of Faux, a church thing I've been running for about a year.  To be fair, I've not been organising my way out of a box for a couple of months, but today was the nail in the coffin.

Felt okay about it this morning, but feel defeated tonight.

Sometimes it's too hard to keep ALL the balls in the air.

Feeling let down by life today.  Best go to bed and give it another go tomorrow.

So, it was my birthday

And it was a good one, thanks to good food, good friends, good family, good times. 

 

Today, I was happy, and perhaps a little silly.

29.

The Dog Days are Over!

Yes, the Big Black Dog has done gone and run away. Listening to new music from Florence and the Machine. She has this joyful, fabulous song called the Dog Days are Over, and it brings a smile to my face because I think, I hope, I now believe, that they actually are over, for now at least.

I have 'invented', accidentally of course, a new form of pray that is oh so working for me right now. I was at Paul and Annes for dinner on the weekend and gave grace - I just said "Dear Lord, Thanks for the Chinese food, Amen". The Sumo cracked up, because she thought I said "This is Chinese food". Well, it's kind of caught on, as a joke (i.e. "Dear Lord, This is Butterscotch Pudding, Amen").

But do you know? It kind of works for me. The Sumo and I were talking last night about how it is kind of like a prayer full of grace and faith - it just says, this is my issue, I bring it to you. Like:

"Dear Lord, This is my scary meeting, Amen".
"Dear Lord, These are my shinsplints, Amen".

No grovelling or begging, just some honesty and trust - He knows my needs.

I'm loving it!

Oh please Annie Rose

Please, I beg of you, fit this hat for me.

**Edit: She Fits It!  (Just)**

Winter, I love thee.

The Sumo!

She is back!  She is here!

My friend.

Aesthetically speaking...

I would have made a perfect renaissance woman.  I have fabulous curves.  No truly, I do.  I recently have looked at stick figure women and actually thanked God for my body, for my soft skin and my warm thighs.  Not to put too finer point on it, I think that potentially someone would really enjoy my body.

Simultaneously, I am fat.  I wobble.  I bulge.  I sag.  I oppose the conventional western ideal of beauty in every conceivable way.  This has a tendency to make me sad.

Because of these two different forces tugging on my self esteem, I veer between self love and self loathe.  

This is exacerbated by being surrounded by beautiful larger women.  I look at them and think 'fabulous'!  I think, 'Yes!  Big women are beautiful!'  Then, I hear them and they don't love their bodies. 

One of my new favorite bloggers is C Jane who lives here, among other places.  This blog of hers kind of inspired this one.  She is fantastically beautiful, I love looking at pictures of her.  She is flat out fantastic.  Why can't she love herself?

My point is this.  It is hard for me to love my body, when the women that I look like do not love their bodies.  I'd imagine then, that it is hard for other women to love their bodies, when I do not love mine.

If only, if only, I could break the cycle.  If only I could have enough courage to learn to love my body. Please God, give me the courage. 

From my desktop - to yours

See:

A new poem. And a new title for my poetry blog. Fun!

Winter on Old Harry...

The trees have lain aside their precious summer coats, they let us see their fine, rough skin.

Straight lines stand out, against Her curves

damp and cool, but still a hint of glamour

Dark pathways curve away through the bush...

When an eight year old names a ship...

Like this one:

A big ship, a ship carrying hundreds of cars on it.

When an eight year old names the ship, that giant ship is called "Dream Angel".

Actually...

Perhaps I would have chosen this poem:

Oterei rivermouth

I get to think that God 

is somewhere there between the rivermouth and sea

glistening

helplessly

with only a broad sky a bored dog and me

listening.

SAM HUNT (my very newest favorite, from his new book, Doubtless)

Tears on my face, in my heart

Because of this song (see vid in last post):

Indiscriminate Act Of Kindness :
She came from the cold wet
Dropped her luggage bags
Looked the concierge in the eye
Said, "I need a room for the night,
But I don't got no money.
Would you take payment of any kind?"

He said, "It's alright
I got a room here, you can share mine.
Make the bed in the morning and that'll do fine.
You can change in the bathroom,
Hang your clothes on the line."
A tear came to her eye
She thought how could he be so kind
How could he be so kind (x2)

She sat down on the bed with a needle
He said, "I'd hate to see you bleed,
Just fetch a warm towel,
I'll sit with you til you're dry."
She started to cry
Said, "Why? why? why? why? why? why?"

Consider it an indiscriminate act of kindness.
(x3)

She was cold turkey
He was holding her hand
She said, "I was ruined by man,
This was never in my plans.
I dreamed of men who loved me,
Together we'd see the world.
Somehow I lost myself among the insults they hurled."

"I'm sure your a wonderful woman,
And someday there will surely be someone.
So just relax now, it's important that you're calm."

She said, "How is it you can see past me as I am?"

Consider it an indiscriminate act of kindness.
(x3)

"When you took your chances,
It was like you placed a bet.
And sometimes this is the reward you can get.
I was always taught
If you see someone defiled,
You should look them in the eyes and smile,
And take their heart, no better yet
Take them home, home, home."

She awoke early in the morning
Made the bed, gathered up her clothes to leave
Saw the concierge curled on the settee
Said, "What you did for me was hard for me to believe."

"I was just doing what was right.
No one that knows love could leave you out there on such a night.
If you can help someone, 
Bare this in mind 
And consider it an indiscriminate act of kindness."

Consider it an indiscriminate act of kindness.

Poetry Day!

Unthinkably good music right here:

Friday was Montana Poetry Day here in NZ, and in its honour, let me wax a little lyrical about poetry itself.  I never really caught the poetry bug until after I left school, when I started haunting book stores and flicking through their poetry sections.  I found a poetry book by Jewel (the singer) and her voice really captured my attention.  Here was poetry that didn't need translation, it spoke my language.  My own writing started to take off to, when I left behind the irritations of structure and rhyme and instead focussed on writing straight from my experiance, trying to write the truth.  

My poetry tastes have matured since then, and the last few years I have become totally enamored with New Zealand poetry, particularly poetry about the New Zealand landscape.

I don't for sure know why I love poetry so much, what it is about poetry that so captures my attention, but I find it so perfect and so truthful.  I am a very sensory person, and I think poetry is a artform that brings together sensory information.  I love to hear people's voices, and poetry has a capacity to allow a person's voice to speak in a way that is at once personal and public.

On Friday I went along to hear some poets read their own work and a favourite of someone elses.  If I had been asked, here is the poem I would have read of my own:

Listen:  here

An Ode to the Botanic Gardens

That time of the year again, the ever-greens are ever green as ever

but those insufferable deciduous models,

are pulling on their showy coats, all reds and yellows,

All, "look at me!  I'm on fire! I glow like incadence! I light up the world with my impossibly beautiful leaves, each impossibly unique!

Look at me!  Slowly, letting it fall, slowly showing you my 

shapely,

dark,

strong 

body,

my arms slow dancing, my discarded garments scrambling for cover on

an Autumn wind"

The favourite poem I would have chosen to share, much harder to choose, but I think I'd go with this one, a recent favourite, combining my love of NZ poetry with my love for the Peninsula:

Listen (to me read it, she's dead!): here

The Long Harbour

There are three valleys where the warm sun lingers, 
gathered to a green hill girt-about anchorage, 
and gently, gently, at the cobbled margin 
of fire-formed, time-smoothed, ocean-moulded curvature, 
a spent tide fingers the graven boulders, 
the black, sea-bevelled stones.

The fugitive hours, in those sun-loved valleys, 
Implacable hours, their golden-wheeled chariots’ 
inaudible passage check, and slacken 
their restless teams’ perpetual galloping; 
and browsing, peaceable sheep and cattle 
gaze as they pause by the way.

Grass springs sweet where once thick forest 
gripped vales by fire and axe freed to pasturage; 
but flame and blade have spared the folding gullies, 
and there, still, the shade-flitting, honey-sipping lutanists 
copy the dropping of tree-cool waters 
dripping from stone to stone.

White hawthorn hedge from old, remembered England, 
and orchard white, and whiter bridal clematis 
the bush-bequeathed, conspire to strew the valleys 
in tender spring, and blackbird, happy colonist, 
and blacker, sweeter-fluted tui echo 
either the other’s song.

From far, palm-feathery, ocean-spattered islands 
there rowed hither dark and daring voyagers; 
and Norseman, Gaul, the Briton and the German 
sailed hither singing; all these hardy venturers 
they desired a home, and have taken their rest there, 
and their songs are lost on the wind.

I have walked here with my love in the early spring-time, 
and under the summer-dark walnut-avenues, 
and played with the children, and waited with the aged 
by the quayside, and listened alone where manukas 
sighing, windswept, and sea-answering pine-groves 
garrison the burial-ground.

It should be very easy to lie down and sleep there 
in that sequestered hillside ossuary, 
underneath a billowy, sun-caressed grass-knoll, 
beside those dauntless, tempest-braving ancestresses 
who pillowed there so gladly, gnarled hands folded, 
their tired, afore-translated bones.

It would not be a hard thing to wake up one morning 
to the sound of bird-song in scarce-stirring willow-trees, 
waves lapping, oars plashing, chains running slowly, 
and faint voices calling across the harbour; 
to embark at dawn, following the old forefathers, 
to put forth at daybreak for some lovelier, 
still undiscovered shore.

Why do I love this poem so?  It's fabulous....

PS: forgive me, I can't pronounce "ossuary"

Wool Heaven

I am in wool heaven, bought the fabulous wool for my sisters hat - I'm banking on her not checking my blog while she's down in the deep south being shaken to bits by rampant earthwakes.  Oooh what a hard-core island we live on!

                                

Anyway, she LOVES red so I am making her a red hat and I've got some cool blue wool in my stash so I'm going to knit/crochet an embellisment to go on the hat.  Fun!  Should have it done by the end of the weekend, all going to plan.

I always buy my wool in the Warehouse, but I went to proper knitting shops today while The Sumo had her medical procedure.  HEAVEN.  But expensive.  

Freckles

                            

I have them.  I am a sucker for freckles, heck, even my own!

I have only three projects in the offing currently.  A neck warmer for me mum, nearish completion.  A vest/cardigan for myself, nearish to beginning (i.e. I have a pattern) and a new hat for me sister.  I'm going to make the same one as I made myself because I'm totally loving the pattern. Here it is in the day-light:

     

I think it will be blue but I have today off because the Sumo has some sort of medical procedure and needs a 'caregiver', i.e. taxi driver and putter-to-bed-to-sleep-off-the-drugs-er, SO I shall visit the glorious knitting shop to find some wool worthy of my precious sister.

Mum's neck warmer is going well I believe, I'm very happy with how it looks and it's been fun knitting using my aunty's old old needles.   It's fun knitting for people I love!

I had a friend over the other night and The Sumo pulled out all the headbands and hats I'd knitted just to show them off.  I felt so loved and valued!  Nice feeling.

Last three months have been absolutely terrible for me, very dark with despair.  But, I think that things are getting better and I'm am allowing a little very precious hope to seep back in.  Not to be all dramatic or anything, but I barely survived and so it's really good to be 'unfreezing my heart' again.  Hope to be writing poetry again momentarily, so will post some over here when I do.

Latest Hat

My latest hat, I made it for myself!

Learning to love:

Op-Shopping

Went op-shopping today, wearing the proceeds:

Blue top = $15, cute brooch = $5.  Score!

Tugboats and Diggers

I work in a magical place called Lyttelton. It's a port town just over the hill from where I live. My window overlooks the port and, specifically, the quay where the ships come to be loaded up with logs. It's magic! I love watching the ships come in, with the tugs nudging them safely into place. I love watching the cranes loading the logs (ever so slowly) onto the ship. I love watching the little yellow trucks perched on the logs, on the ship, organising the logs neatly into place.

It's the best view a girl could ask for.

Today was exciting because usually the log ships are already in when I arrive, they must come in first thing, but today one came in at 10:00! So I got to watch it!

Now I am looking out my window at the loading going on, it's a good distraction on what is otherwise a rubbish day work wise.

Fountain Fountain

Feelin' better today thank goodness, although work was super stressful.  Went to yoga last night and it was just so HARD.  I am really flexible, by far the most flexible in the class.  But I am just terrible at balancing, honestly, ridiculously bad.  And I'm not very strong either.  It's so annoying because no-one notices that I can do the flex stuff but man, they can see when I wobble around and fall spectacularly over.  SHAME!  But it's gooooood for me, good to learn to do something for the joy of it, not to be the best.  Not that yoga was that joyful last night, painful yes!  

I did just make the best cookies - peanut butter and chocolate chip.  Aren't they lovely?

And to all a good night

Feelin' sad today.  

Lost!

Oh yes, lost.

Well, I'm busy knitting an entrelac hat, and it's coming along nicely!  Should finish it this weekend, so there'll be pics soon.

I had a totally insane week work wise, and I'm totally shattered.  I'm in that precarious place between hope and despair at the moment - hope is so fragile and scary, and I am not very brave.  But there's not much point without it, so I do what I can to be brave.

I have, for the first time in my 28 years, a double bed.  It's crazy, the room in that thing!  And my room finally looks like a grown-ups, rather than an over-grown child.

It's an interesting time for me at the moment, two good friends got engaged, lots of babies in my life.  It's very exciting and joyful, but be lying if I didn't admit that it raises some questions for me.

I'm not old, obviously, despite the horrified look I got from an 11 year old recently when I told her I was turning 30 next year.  There's plenty of time for marriage and babies.  However, when your peers start that process and it's no-where in sight for you, there is a grief.  I know that it might not ever happen for me, for whatever reason.  Maybe those moments wont be for me.  I am certain that whatever life I lead, it will be good and fulfilling and joy-full, but it might not have those joys.  It scares me, and it hurts me.  Part of me feels like I'm getting left behind.

I'm not moaning, honest, I know that I have lots of benefits that come with singleness (like spontaneous trips to Sydney, lots of shopping, no real need to be sensible with money) and I know I'll totally get over it.  And I'm absolutely definitely happy for my friends.

But honestly, it's scary when life turns out different to how you thought it would.

Can't let that be my last post

Weight, urgh, who cares.  I have bigger things to worry about (pun).

SO, my latest knitting conquest: entrelac knitting:

Isn't it fantastic?  Looks like it's woven but it's actually very simple once you get going.  FUN!  I'm loving knitting right now, but I do want to try some other crafts!  Like embroidery or sewing or something.

Things I love right now: Clinique 3 step skin care, Poetry books, Twitter, Etsy, scarves and coming home to a warm house.

Starting again, again.

I had yoga tonight and we were focussing on the principle of being in the present.  The teacher asked us just to accept things as they were in this particular moment.

It really struck me actually.  I'm starting out again, again, on my weightloss journey and so it seemed particularly relevant to me.  I am in the midst of a difficult emotional journey and so it seemed particularly relevant to me.  I'm at the start of training for my first half marathon (run), I'm in the midst of a new spiritual journey, I just finished my first year at work.

I lay on my mat, trying (unsuccessfully) not to fall asleep during the meditation, and I held in myself the moment I find myself in.  

I've failed at weightloss about a million times.

I'm sad and grieving.

I'm very tired physically and emotionally.

I'm proud of my progress at work.

I'm fitter than I've been in ages.

I'm writing the best poetry I've ever written and it might get published.

I'm growing and exited about God in new ways.

I'm bigger than I ever wanted to be.

I've got a lot of weight to loose.

I'm on new medication that might help me loose weight like normal.

I'm figuring out how to make life work every day.

There are great things and hard things and I lay there on my mat and for the first time in ages, I didn't judge myself.  I just accepted where I was.

Felt good.

Flume

Whenever I go somewhere stone-esque, I like to build a cairn.  People used to build them to show people the way, or to mark a pathway, or to leave a sign that they were there.

I like that, so I build them.  Plus, I love the process of building them.

Here is my latest one, at Greymouth Beach: