Ho hum, our first project, an essay reviewing our lives up to this point... Quite a long story, please feel free to use your imagination and make it as exciting/ dull as you wish.
My Life in review
So here begins the story of I, so far..
Grandad and Ohli
1979 - the birth of me.
Born into a pretty regular suburban family, with two brothers, Charlie a wee bit older, and Bob a few years younger. We grew up in a suburban estate on the outskirts of Sheffield. My parents separated when I was around 4, and I was raised by my mother. My mum is a completely devoted mother and a real softie. My dad was always the dominant force, but now it's lovely to see how he is softening in his old age.
In the early days, the street we lived on was surrounded by fields, streams and long long grasses. Over the next few years I spent a lot of my time in these wild places, hiding in the bogs, making perfume for my mum from the colourful wild flowers.. It wasn’t long before the fields gave way to more houses, then more, and more.. The friendly outdoor market became a large unfriendly indoor shopping centre, and it was closely followed by tramlines, restaurants and a huge retail park. The streams became toxic and orange, and my days in the fields were lost to the endless grey of suburbia.
If there is one thing I learned from my childhood growing up in Sheffield, it’s that I shall never raise a child in a suburban street.
The blessings during this time: my family, riding horses, remaining true to myself and my inner expression, and my older brother and his beautiful skateboarding friends.
Born into a pretty regular suburban family, with two brothers, Charlie a wee bit older, and Bob a few years younger. We grew up in a suburban estate on the outskirts of Sheffield. My parents separated when I was around 4, and I was raised by my mother. My mum is a completely devoted mother and a real softie. My dad was always the dominant force, but now it's lovely to see how he is softening in his old age.
In the early days, the street we lived on was surrounded by fields, streams and long long grasses. Over the next few years I spent a lot of my time in these wild places, hiding in the bogs, making perfume for my mum from the colourful wild flowers.. It wasn’t long before the fields gave way to more houses, then more, and more.. The friendly outdoor market became a large unfriendly indoor shopping centre, and it was closely followed by tramlines, restaurants and a huge retail park. The streams became toxic and orange, and my days in the fields were lost to the endless grey of suburbia.
If there is one thing I learned from my childhood growing up in Sheffield, it’s that I shall never raise a child in a suburban street.
The blessings during this time: my family, riding horses, remaining true to myself and my inner expression, and my older brother and his beautiful skateboarding friends.
After leaving school I went on to art college. I had the freedom to be more outspoken and revelled in multicoloured hair and outrageous clothes. Having the space to explore my creativity felt amazing.
After college I decided to get away from Sheffield life and I found myself a job in a 60’s bar in the lake district. Five months, with only an Elvis greatest hits CD for company, some real scally co-workers and a very sweet but slightly psychotic chef who would carve flowers from various vegetables and have them sent to my room, I decided to move on, and for a beautiful while lived down in Cornwall. I met Luca Meneini, an Italian surfer who may still be the most beautiful man I have ever come across, and worked as a henna tatooist in a wee surf shop. Made some beautiful friends, and spent some blissfully memorable times.
After this summer I dragged myself from life by the beach to continue my studies, and on to Derby university and a fashion design course, as I really liked being creative with fabric and making clothes. My first assignment was to design twenty styles of t-shirt that could be sold in Topshop. Why anyone needs twenty styles of t-shirt is completely beyond me, and its definitely not something I could see myself getting excited about. I didn't continue with the course.
After college I decided to get away from Sheffield life and I found myself a job in a 60’s bar in the lake district. Five months, with only an Elvis greatest hits CD for company, some real scally co-workers and a very sweet but slightly psychotic chef who would carve flowers from various vegetables and have them sent to my room, I decided to move on, and for a beautiful while lived down in Cornwall. I met Luca Meneini, an Italian surfer who may still be the most beautiful man I have ever come across, and worked as a henna tatooist in a wee surf shop. Made some beautiful friends, and spent some blissfully memorable times.
After this summer I dragged myself from life by the beach to continue my studies, and on to Derby university and a fashion design course, as I really liked being creative with fabric and making clothes. My first assignment was to design twenty styles of t-shirt that could be sold in Topshop. Why anyone needs twenty styles of t-shirt is completely beyond me, and its definitely not something I could see myself getting excited about. I didn't continue with the course.
Wasted...
I met a nice stoner boyfriend, invested my student loan in a great deal of sparkly green herb and vodka orange breakfasts, and I smoked and danced my way through the next couple of years, showing up just to sign in on my course for as long as I could get away with.
Two years passed and it was sometime around then I found myself sitting in a factory with Chris, (the same stoner boyfriend) employed to make sure that all the wee bits of metal in the box were facing the right direction. I could see my life slip away from me one spliff and ridiculous wrestling video after another. So I left the factory, left Chris, and got three simultaneous waitressing jobs to pay off the debt I had gathered from an indulgently unhealthy lifestyle. I decided to make a change, and spent 6 months raising the money to go and explore the world.
Looking back, for me the word ‘wasted’ really sums up this time in my life. About two years went by and I feel that more than any other time in my life I made very little forward or upward progression. I did however experience connecting with some very different types of people, and had some truly mind blowing out of body drug enhanced experiences.
Two years passed and it was sometime around then I found myself sitting in a factory with Chris, (the same stoner boyfriend) employed to make sure that all the wee bits of metal in the box were facing the right direction. I could see my life slip away from me one spliff and ridiculous wrestling video after another. So I left the factory, left Chris, and got three simultaneous waitressing jobs to pay off the debt I had gathered from an indulgently unhealthy lifestyle. I decided to make a change, and spent 6 months raising the money to go and explore the world.
Looking back, for me the word ‘wasted’ really sums up this time in my life. About two years went by and I feel that more than any other time in my life I made very little forward or upward progression. I did however experience connecting with some very different types of people, and had some truly mind blowing out of body drug enhanced experiences.
The paradise of Asia
2001 - the escape
I travelled to Thailand and immediately headed south, as I had never seen a tropical beach before. That moment when I stepped out into the most beautiful paradise I could ever imagine, all the working, saving and waiting just fell away, and I felt completely free and immensely happy. Beautiful.
I explored southern Thailand, down through some incredible islands in Malaysia, one especially called Tioman Island, where we shared the sunsets with thousands of vampire bats, rainbow coloured thunderstorms, and gigantic monitor lizards the size of crocodiles. I went on to Singapore, before working my way back up again. Back in Thailand I fell in love and moved into a wee house built around the trees in the sand dunes on the beach on one of the islands with my partner. We slept up on a platform overlooking the sunsets with the stars above our heads, and in the morning we’d come down to make coffee, the morning tide would wash around our feet and crabs would nip our toes. We made jewellery from the shells washed up on the beach and mixed them with precious amber and turquoise, and spent evenings riding barefoot on our broken, brakeless, lampless scooter visiting different beaches and exchanging our jewels for dinner and beer. I stayed there with him for about 8 months, when the rainy season hit the rivers flooded and turned dark brown with mud washed from the mountains. As this was the water we washed, cooked and drank from I began to get sick. My money had run out long ago and I decided to go work as a teacher for a while to earn some cash, then to return and perhaps buy some land together or invest in the bar and extend it to build a workshop for me to make clothing and work on my craft. What a blissful time this had been. Such a different world from all I had known.
I travelled to Thailand and immediately headed south, as I had never seen a tropical beach before. That moment when I stepped out into the most beautiful paradise I could ever imagine, all the working, saving and waiting just fell away, and I felt completely free and immensely happy. Beautiful.
I explored southern Thailand, down through some incredible islands in Malaysia, one especially called Tioman Island, where we shared the sunsets with thousands of vampire bats, rainbow coloured thunderstorms, and gigantic monitor lizards the size of crocodiles. I went on to Singapore, before working my way back up again. Back in Thailand I fell in love and moved into a wee house built around the trees in the sand dunes on the beach on one of the islands with my partner. We slept up on a platform overlooking the sunsets with the stars above our heads, and in the morning we’d come down to make coffee, the morning tide would wash around our feet and crabs would nip our toes. We made jewellery from the shells washed up on the beach and mixed them with precious amber and turquoise, and spent evenings riding barefoot on our broken, brakeless, lampless scooter visiting different beaches and exchanging our jewels for dinner and beer. I stayed there with him for about 8 months, when the rainy season hit the rivers flooded and turned dark brown with mud washed from the mountains. As this was the water we washed, cooked and drank from I began to get sick. My money had run out long ago and I decided to go work as a teacher for a while to earn some cash, then to return and perhaps buy some land together or invest in the bar and extend it to build a workshop for me to make clothing and work on my craft. What a blissful time this had been. Such a different world from all I had known.
I had no teaching experience except for a 2 day course I had taken before I left the UK, so I felt very much thrown in at the deep end when suddenly faced with a classroom full of 3 year olds. But, as it turns out, the best thing you can do with 3 year olds is sing songs about rhinos and tigers and then chase them round the room roaring, so it didn’t take me long to feel comfortable there. I also began volunteering at a local rural village school, where I had three back to back classes of 100 students. We had to teach outdoors as there was no classroom big enough, and often parents would come along to learn with their children. It was impossible to actually teach or learn anything, so we would sing together and create small, silly plays.
It was such an honour to be able to teach in these schools, coming from a background of being a waitress and a drop out art student within my own culture, I felt very undeserving of the huge amount of respect I was given here, and very fortunate and blessed to be given the opportunities I was.
It was such an honour to be able to teach in these schools, coming from a background of being a waitress and a drop out art student within my own culture, I felt very undeserving of the huge amount of respect I was given here, and very fortunate and blessed to be given the opportunities I was.
Every month at first, and then every three months later on, I had to leave Thailand to cross the border to renew my visa. Jumping on my trusty old scooter, I would head off to one of a variety of border crossings, winding through jungle and mountain tracks, until I reached either Cambodia, Burma, Laos or Malaysia, and spend a day or two or sometimes more meeting folk on the other side and exploring. People would always be so welcoming, and everything about life there was so different from how it was back home, another world entirely. Faced with the reality of oppression and poverty so many people live with every day, I began to feel infinitely fortunate and also terribly shameful of my background. Shameful because I never had appreciated the freedom and luxury I had grown up in, and had taken it so much for granted.
I met so many wonderful local people who would take me into their homes, sharing food and sweet ginger tea with wonderful old men on street corners, feeling free, hugely independent and realising I could go anywhere and anything was possible. The world just stretched out before my eyes.
The beauty of ancient Angkor Watt
The temples of Angkor Watt in Cambodia
In Cambodia I visited Angkor Wat, an ancient temple where gigantic tree roots wound their way through temples so huge and so magnificent, the roots and braches looked like snakes, you could literally see eons of time unfolding, and I fell in wonder and blissful awe at the power of nature. One wonderful time I got lost whilst exploring back roads home through northern Thailand and spent days and nights riding up and down river beds in deep jungle and in torrential rain, appearing home days later than expected drenched and orange with mud from head to foot, blissfully happy and well fed, after chancing across some hill tribes along the way who wouldn’t let me pass without first feeding me warming rice soup.
Around this time I paid a surprise visit to my Thai partner, but things did not work out as I had hoped they would and I found myself being the surprised one. Several perfectly ripe and unsuspecting papayas lost their lives being smashed to a pulp by my bare hands and a rather large rock in an attempt to release my hurt and anger, much to the concern of a nearby garden full of scarlet robed monks. The discovery of my love and ‘Miriam’ should have been the end of our tale together, but sadly for me I didn’t show myself the self respect that I realise now I deserved, and our relationship continued on and off for the next two years, trying to hold onto the amazing connection we once shared. Things went up and down, as they often do, but ended in a very large down and a violent evening where I very nearly met my end. This time had a profound effect on me and on my ability to trust people enough to allow them to become close to me.
Realisations about this time in my life? That I tend to show myself a lack of respect and perhaps have a low sense of self worth, that I like to think the best of people and believe them when they say they can change, that it is very possible to spend a lot of time living in possibilities and not in reality. And that I generally have a pretty questionable choice of partners.
Travellers house and the Star Bellied Sneetch
Building our bar at the Star Bellied Sneetch
I was off on a journey around the country on my wee scooter when I happened to meet an old Thai man and we spent an evening in typical Thai style, sharing a few bottles of rice whiskey and singing karaoki.
He had just built himself a 16 room guesthouse in Sukhothai, a town in central Thailand. He wanted to attract backpackers and travellers to his place but had no idea how to go about it, so asked me if I would take the guesthouse on as my own, he would be a silent partner, and to increase our status in the town and get around official problems we would pretend that I was the business owner. I called in my friend from my previous teaching job to work together, and we were given an unlimited budget and 3 weeks to open the place. We called on friends we had made whilst travelling and together we made the place beautiful; I revisited my love of painting with murals on the walls, we had beautiful wooden furniture made and went shopping in the markets for everything else we could find. We created a bar downstairs and began to run tours of the area, hired a housekeeper and a cook, and were soon one of the busiest places in town. Mr Tui - the real owner - and his closest friend the mayor of the town would take us out almost every evening to the most beautiful restaurants for miles around, we were bought a very fancy motorcycle and even a wee shitzu puppy. We called the guesthouse Travellers house and the Star Bellied Sneetch, after my friend’s favourite Dr Seuss childrens book. And our wee dog became Suki Yaki McMonkey McBean, from the same book. We gave up trying to translate that one into Thai.
I continued teaching and began to work in an international primary school. I had a class of 33 six year olds this time. The quality of education, or inequality perhaps, really struck me, generally very little emphasis was put onto the children as individuals with individual needs, there was a great deal of structure and discipline that seemed so unnatural to such small, creative and alive little people. Anyhow, I did the best I could with what I knew, and grew very close to my class of wee folk. I spent a year there before moving on for a change.
For about 5 months we ran our guesthouse. At creating parties we did really well, but at keeping the books and working our prices, not so well. We somehow didn’t manage to make any money even though the place was nearly always full, we priced things according to how nice the person was and how much they could afford, and unfortunately a lot of nice people came through. By the 4th month of making a loss Mr Tui began to think we were stealing from him, and things began to go downhill from there. One of his friends, a very suspicious German man who had a permanent room there, was the one we suspected of stealing from us, but we had no proof.
Another problem was that it turned out that Mr Tui and his friend also began to hold intentions of not so platonic intent towards my friend and I; it was only when I started dating a very lovely young local waiter that this became apparent, and I was almost forbidden to see him. We decided to take this as a sign to move on, the suspicious German man took over, and within a week my murals had been painted over and our bar reopened to serve sausages, fries, and jugs of expensive beer, and the sounds of football over widescreen TV’s could be heard echoing down the Thai streets.
My friend and I decided that the time had come to move on from Thailand, so we moved to Bangkok to save some money. Due to our connections in Sukhothai we managed to get a job in a very prestigious international kindergarten, where we were the main teachers and responsible for most of the running of the school.
Things started to work really well, until the school started pushing for me to get a work permit to stay there permanently. The problem here was that since working at my first teaching job in Thailand the previous year, the laws had changed, and stated that all teachers now needed to have a degree in order to work. So, to keep my job, I had travelled to Bangkok and for 3000 baht, (around £50 pounds) I had bought myself a degree. Upon starting work at this new school I had handed them in my references and certificates, never expecting them to then post them off to the Thai government asking to give me an official work permit. Luckily for me, the lady in the school office doing this had a relative in the government office, and he managed to send back my papers before they were seen by the wrong people. She couldn’t understand what was going on, so tried three times before I found out what happening, made my excuses and left the job. I think I had a bit of a lucky escape, as the Thai government aren’t well known for being very forgiving to law breakers.
Vipassana
A beautiful beack
One of the most beautiful experiences I had whilst in Thailand was just before my return where I spent 10 days in silent meditation on a vipassana retreat. I had practiced yoga for a long time, and felt that I really wanted a deeper immersion into meditative practices and some guidance. The things that came up within me during this retreat were immense. To this day I still see it as one of the most powerful things I have ever done. I left there knowing that I had opened a door within myself where there was vast knowledge and clarity, and it created a major shift within my being. I had beautiful visions of the interconnectedness of all things, and knew I would delve deeper when I felt I was ready. This was the first of several retreats I have taken myself into, but by far the most powerful and mind blowing.
Awareness into activism
Trying to have my voice heard through environmental activism
Coming back from Asia was a real eye opener towards my own culture, a bit of a slap in the face. At first, I didn’t want to be here at all. The indulgence, the mindless waste, the disconnection people choose to have from one another, and the lack of importance people generally put onto family connections, into taking care of each other. After three years away, I didn’t feel like this was my home anymore, I certainly didn’t want it to be. But as the shock faded away, I began to settle back in. The positive things began to become apparent again, I began to get re-involved with my community, and I enjoyed being back amongst my own culture again. I met a new group of people who were actively involved in a variety of environmental and political activism just at a time when my eyes were opening to many things that they had been closed to when I had lived here previously. I began joining protests and actions and becoming much more vocal about the unjust state of the world. I felt very passionately about environmental problems and completely outraged at the general publics disinterest in the subject. My feelings of anger, frustration and a desire to do something about it all culminated in several non-violent awareness raising actions, and then a rather long court case after closing down a coal power station for the day by chaining myself to some of the machinery. Looking back now, I see that this was not a lasting solution to the problem, or probably the best personal choice I could make for myself. I think I knew that at the time also. My reason for being there was to raise as much awareness and noise as possible, to shout ‘look! This is all madness! Talk about it in the papers! Bring us into the news! let our voices be heard!’
And they were, for a short time. Firstly by the press, then the helicopters, then by lots of police. The combination of the repurcussions of this action, alongside witnessing some significantly violent and distressing scenes at several climate camps and gatherings left me feeling emotionally exhausted and dissatisfied with this form of expression of my beliefs. So much anger and focusing on the negativity in the world was very depressing. So I took a step back.
Edinburgh street theatre
Stilt walking in Edinburgh
In August of 2005 I moved to Edinburgh for the summer with a friend of mine, we joined in the festival street performing and stilt walking. Then one day whilst riding my bike, I happened upon the university having an open day. I went in for an explore and heard a talk about their ecology department, and I was hooked. I was sure that this was the way I could be of most use to the world, learn about her and then I’ll know what needs to be done and where. I imagined a future travelling to wild places and being of benefit there, travelling and being useful, making a positive difference. So I returned to college, studied an intense foundation in science and maths, and began in Edinburgh university the following year.
Travels to Eastern Europe
On my travels in Istanbul
In the summer of 2006 I spent my time woofing in southern Britain and southern France. It was wonderful to see proof of people living harmoniously with nature all around. I also went travelling on a road trip all the way to Istanbul and back with a tiny little car and a wonderful partner. Travelling through western Europe was crowded, materialistic and unwelcoming. But the further east we went, the more space, fresh air and friendly faces we saw, the more I felt at ease. People were more ready to invite us into their homes and share what little they had. It seemed to be where people lived closer to the land, they managed to stay connected to what was important in the world.
Activism into peaceful progression
Facing the riot police with CIRCA - the Clandestine Insurgent Rebel Clown Army
Back in Edinburgh I continued with my course, and fully appreciated the opportunity to learn about the workings of the earth and all her systems, from some wonderful teachers. Meanwhile I made friends with some motivated activists. As time had passed since my last experiences with climate related actions, my feelings had changed, I still felt a pressing need to do something about the many issues that are due more attention in the world, but felt more that I wanted to respond in a positive way than a negative. My last experience with the power station action in Nottingham had brought negativity into my life, and I felt that too much of my energy had gone into that instead of going into places where it could be more wisely used for good lasting change. So I put my energies instead into co-organising a large climate gathering, with speakers and workshops set out to inspire action and change in a positive way. I began attending actions with the intention of lightening the energy and increasing positive dialogue, and I began learning about using theatre to inspire social change and joined the rebel clown army. I feel this was a positive step for me to make a contribution in a way that felt more sustainable for me, and had a more lasting, more positive affect.
Creative expression
My friend and I
Around this time I began a relationship with a man who has temporal lobe epilepsy, (T.L.E) a form of brain damage caused by a car accident he was in many years ago. Although beautiful, social and lovely the majority of the time, he suffers from seizures of the mind, which can cause him to behave very unusually and can be very intense. (That may be an understatement..) His seizural episodes could last anything from a few minutes to days, and linger for weeks. One of the common things with T.L.E is that sufferers are usually hyper everything - hyper creative, hyper talented, hyper romantic, hyper emotional, hyper spiritual, hyper difficult, hyper critical, hyper demanding. So this time in my life was one of the most personally progressive and demanding I ever had. It was during this relationship that I also took a Reiki course, learning to channel the energy of the earth through myself to heal others. Something shifted inside me, it was as if divine light began to burst through, connecting me to my true self, or rather awakening me to the realisation that the self I thought I was, was not all of me, at all.. With the pressures of my relationship and the turning inside out of my being I had a bit of a meltdown, which left me upside down for several weeks. I emerged more conscious of my self, and of the world around me, and felt that my life had begun again. Every now and then I get another wee meltdown, but I now recognise, enjoy and honour the feeling, as I see it is a sign that I have become too complacent and have begun slipping back into my old habit of walking around with my eyes closed to my true nature again.
Around this time I also joined the drama group in a community run café and began a time of lovely creative expression. We put on crazy brilliant beautiful plays, I began writing poems, which felt incredibly healthy and healing, releasing blocked energies within me. I also met Nando, who was to be the father of our child. One of the first things we did together was write a song in the garden of the café and sing it together in the crowded cafe, both as nervous as the other. We wandered the highlands camping on beaches, singing silly songs, listening to owls. A short connection, but mostly very beautiful, as its time was ending and we were parting, I found I was carrying his child.
Community living
My friends in the farmhouse in Edinburgh
I had recently moved out of Edinburgh to the countryside, sharing a large farmhouse with a small community of others, 5 adults, 4 children, two cats and a dog. Having the support of other mothers and fathers and the nourishment of the countryside around me throughout my pregnancy was more than I could have hoped for, I was very blessed by my surroundings. My connection with Nando went from shaky to unstable, the pressures of our new situation encouraging us to stay connected whilst our lives were going in very different directions. Finally, in the middle of my pregnancy I gathered my courage and took back the energy I was pouring into my relationship and reclaimed it to surround myself and my growing belly. And a better decision I have never made. I left my Ecology degree halfway through, needing to devote myself entirely on the new life within me. I spent a lot of my time in meditation, focusing on positive affirmations and protective light towards my growing child. I met my son in several dreams, one of which he told me his name. I travelled down to the south of England once more, and stayed for a while in an ashram in Glastonbury, where I practiced karma yoga and spent time devoting myself to meditation.
Motherhood
Ohli
Ohli was born on the 27th December 2009. The birthing was the most intense, moving and beautiful experience I have ever had. I spent two days in labour in a yurt at the edge of the woods behind our house. The snow was around 4 feet deep all around, and no midwife would come as we were so remote they wouldn’t risk getting to us. I had three women in there with me, keeping the burner roaring, filling my birth pool with steaming water, singing together, feeding me herbal tinctures and snow, massaging my back.. It felt incredibly powerful to be within a circle of women ready to welcome my child into the world. Owls sang throughout the night, horses from the nearby stables broke free and wandered nearby in the snow.. Each contraction took me further and further into the stars..
At the end of the second day things changed pace and my labour stopped, exhausted and concerned we made it through the snow and into the hospital, where Ohli entered the world in an operating theatre, with funk playing in the hospital stereo. Such an alien place, so far from where I had imagined for his first view of the world. The lessons from this are still settling with the dust. I think I have learnt of the necessity of sense, of not getting carried away with ideals and dreams, of finding a middle ground, of listening to advice when it comes from an educated source. I’m still not sure yet. To try and not hold on too tight to a way you would like something to be. To try and let go, that sometimes things find their own way.
Ohli Jasper Roots Robins
Wham… here I am, with a baby, essentially doing it alone. I think I managed to find time to brush my teeth about three times in the first two weeks. Shock, awe, bliss, trauma, wonder, magic little being. It took several weeks before I fully felt his earthly presence, before that it felt as though he was still landing, grounding, like his spirit was still so connected with the whole universe there was no separation yet. I could see eons of time in Ohli’s eyes, wisdom far beyond anything I have ever known. Like nothing I have ever experienced.
In the depths of winter we had no heating due to the deep snow, but neighbours donated everything they had to keep us warm. A true coming together. We danced in the snow under the full moon at the turning of the year whilst our friends played music and sang.. It was a very cosy and blissful time.
How time has passed.
A yearning for nature
View across a Scottish lake
Whilst I was pregnant, as soon as I had begun to feel Ohli‘s presence within my belly, I began to feel a real yearning desire to be away from all things industrial, to escape the city, the noise, the commercialisation, to be free of it all, to live simply and purely, just as nature intended. The feeling gets stronger every time I go into town, and stronger as Ohli gets older and I see him taking in the fumes from the buses and watching people pushing past each other in the streets. Sometimes its unbearable, when I do come into town now I usually drink coffee to de-sensitize myself to it all, just so I can carry on. I’d like to stop doing this, I feel it is a good instinct here that I am repressing, one that came out through the spirit opening process of pregnancy and one that still lingers. A vision of a way we're supposed to be living.
By the summer of Ohli’s first year my thoughts began to turn to our future, and of making steps to work towards fulfilling my intentions of being of much use as possible to the world, with an even stronger motivation now that I had a family. I had wanted to learn more about permaculture for a long time, in so took my PDC with Richard in August of that year. That course summed up everything I had an interest in, it brought together all the things I wanted to learn about and saw as important, and put them all under one incredible umbrella.
After completing the course it was a couple of months later that I registered for the diploma. I felt very strongly that this was the best place to put my energies, that permaculture was the most positive and inspiring thing I could do. I was so excited about it. It was also something that was very practical, a learning that I could be a part of whilst having a child. I really wanted to continue with the things that I had a passion for before having Ohli, and felt really strongly that I wanted to be a very strong role model for my son. As children learn so much by example having him is a really big motivation to do amazing work.
At the same time I was making travel plans again. I decided to travel to NZ over the winter to wwoof, gain some experience, find some interesting projects to be a part of and also find some freedom, but I wasn’t able to raise enough money for the trip. So instead I bought a van with the money I had and spent the winter fitting a wood burner and doing it up, intending to head south towards Spain and Portugal instead. The process was frustratingly slow due to the very small amount of time I had spare to work on it with Ohli’s company. But sadly, even though I bought the van from a friendly neighbour, it was a total wreck, which I didn’t realise until it fell apart the week I was due to leave, after I had spent 6 months making it beautiful. I would like to believe that I learnt a lot from this experience, but I’m not sure I did. That shit happens, I guess. And to always look underneath a van before you buy it. Sounds obvious, now..
As my mind was very much into travel plans that kept getting delayed, and I had planned to find projects to be involved with whilst away, my diploma work was put onto the back burner.
Over the past year I have planned several trips that have never materialised. Realistically, I think I have needed exciting projects, plans and escapes to get my head involved with, where as in reality what I have needed was some time to myself, space to think, and personal outlets to my creativity to help ease my feelings of overwhelm. The eternal wishes of a single mum. I am also recognising that my craving for wilderness is partly coming from my internal desires to break free of old habits and trapping ways of being and find my wild nature within. Realising these things have made me look at different lasting ways to affect my every day, which is where I am at now.It was around this time that Richard, my PDC tutor, contacted me saying that he was becoming a diploma teacher and offering more support and motivation than the others. This couldn’t have come at a better time for me, so I jumped at the chance to be a part of his crew. I met with him and the other apprentices for an induction in August of this year, and felt completely inspired and so fortunate to be a part of something so wonderful. The energy of the group was so creative, I feel like together we really are all going to support each other to succeed and make great things happen. For this induction I took time away from Ohli for the very first time, and it felt great to be prioritising myself for a few short days, I was making actual physical steps towards making our future brighter. I tend to spend a lot of time thinking about doing things, lost in my head plans and ideas can tend to fail to materialise. I am trying really hard now to step out of this way of being, more doing, less thinking about doing.
Flying the nest
And now we are about to embark on a new adventure. For all the right reasons this time. The time has come for us to move on from Scotland and this cosy house, so I can blossom fully into my motherhood and raise Ohli in the way that I feel would be most nourishing for him, and for me. I’m still not sure where this will be, but the south is calling, for a complete change of scene, and better weather.
And that’s pretty much me, up until now. Sitting here with my cup of tea, Ohli asleep, dog at my feet. Thanks for making it to the end.