clearbluecup

we made it back from our trip to england today, landing in cork at the ungodly hour of 8:10am. When you paid 1p for your ticket it's not quite right to complain too loudly. ((but we still had to catch the bus out of London city centre at 4:07am to make it to the airport on time.))

Baby Asher was delightful, and his parents are in fine form too. I got a great kick out of shopping for baby presents - such tiny little trousers! And grandad Duncan was a fabulous host, as always. He took us to see Durdle Door at Lulworth Cove in Dorset, which was unfortunately obscured by the mist on an otherwise perfectly sunny day. Louis survived his stay in the cat hotel. The girl at the cattery said that he was quite the charmer, and everyone there thought he was an absolute dote. I ventured out for an afternoon of shopping in London on my own. I could have gotten lost forever in the oxford st Topshop. It was absolutely dazzling, dizzying racks of jewelery and handbags, walls covered in patterned tights and sunglasses. i'm sure i'm part raccoon. it's embarassing but true.

not as embarassing as those eyebrows, though. Click here to see the rest of the photos.

when i am tired and aching, sinuses congested, head clogged, and i've just had that same old fight AGAIN, all i want to do is curl up beneath the pure white cotton duvet for now and metamorphose later.

then i get up, get on my bike and go to yoga.

no more complicated conversations, no more stressful expectations or head colds or dirty bathrooms. no more job worries, plans, fretful memories, guilty consciences, half-finished projects or difficult decisions to make. no more then, only now.

and so i lay still and breathe. and then i stretch, lift, hold my body. i create space instead of tension, and i flow effortlessly. in. out. in. out.

life gets complicated when i forget to breathe.

i am a saggitarius, with gemini rising. this is my gemini horoscope for this week:

It's time to declare amnesty for the part of you that you don't love very well. Forgive that poor sucker. Hold its hand and take it out to dinner and a movie. Tactfully offer it a chance to make amends for the dumb things it has done. And then do a dramatic reading of this proclamation by the playwright Theodore Rubin: "I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool."

oh yes. very, very true. I am finding it quite difficult, however. every now and then i feel a glimpse of compassion for that part of myself, like a sunbeam through a cloud on a stormy day. but it seems just out of reach, like an elusive butterfly. sometimes i feel it would be close enough to touch if my arms weren't bound, if I wasn't trapped inside this glass jar with holes punched in the lid.

so, after all my fretting about louis staying in the cattery when we got home from england and picked him up he seemed fine - glad to be home but healthy and happy. about a week later i walked in the door when i got home from work and when i saw him an alarm bell went off inside my head - louis is sick! he had a weepy eye, he'd been sleeping a lot the past few days, and i'd heard him cough the day before. and he was doing this bizarre thing with his jaw, like he was chewing on something or trembling involuntarily. i got freaked out, and we took him to the vet that afternoon.

when the vet saw him he looked at louis' eyes, took his temperature and said, "oh he's definitely got a cold". the vet gave him a shot of antibiotics, an envelope of tablets and sent us on our way. when I asked about the jaw thing the vet thought it was due to the fact that he had some swollen glands in his neck, and he was probably trying to clear his sore throat. i was satisfied with that, and off we went home.

six days later he's still doing this strange jaw thing, seems to have trouble eating, is drooling a lot, and is less energetic than the spunky kitten he was before we went away. i'm really worried about him, i don't know what the problem is and i'm thinking through all the possible risks - did he catch a nasty virus at the cattery? did he eat a slug pellet? am i making a bigger deal of all this than i should? ack, the guilt. i feel terrible. i think we'll have to take him back to the vet today.

UPDATE:: Louis seems to be on the mend. he's still a bit under the weather, but he is outside chasing bugs and eating grass and generally doing his cat thang. also, he's not having as much trouble with the shaky jaw and drooling/snotty nose as before. i think he's getting over whatever it was that was making him sick, which i suspect was probably a virus from the cattery. i seriously couldn't take the worry and stress of it though. i think i need more deep breathing and relaxation exercises or something...

10. nettle tea with manuka honey

9. H&M handbags and blond highlights

8. our jasmine is blooming for the first time

7. monday night sewing at home with a friend

6. wednesday morning yoga

5. regular sessions with a psychologist

4. talking to management about my ideas for their company. if at first they don't listen, go one level higher.

3. shifting down into second and proceeding through a roundabout without coming to a full stop

2. putting down roots in our garden and planting things in the ground rather than in pots and planters

1. kneading spelt and honey bread by hand

when i first arrived in ireland nearly three years ago, i felt like i had lost my self. everything i had that defined me was gone. i kept reference by reminding myself of key moments, memories that were embellished and coated in crystallised sugar, and i always felt that the self that participated in those moments was my real self. my self that was trying to find my feet on irish soil was the fake, the hollow shell, the empty chrysalis.

seeing pictures of places and people with whom i used to feel such a deep sense of belonging makes me realise that the self i left behind in canada still has a fine, ethereal connection with my current self, an infinitely long strand of spider silk that transcends space and time. that strand is the unrealised potential, the unchosen choices, the void beneath all being. to make any choice means to leave behind every other potential choice, and the infinite number of other choices that may have become available following any one choice. for every one of those choices there is a potential self that may have been realised. McKenna asked, "how is it, out of the class of the possible, which is vast, certain things are selected for what Whitehead calls the 'formality of actually occurring'?"

There is a part of me, a shadowy doppleganger living in an alternate reality, that never left. it just never underwent the formal process of actually occurring.

however, time flows ever on, and this self i am now keeps growing and changing and moving further and further away from it's shadowy double. and everyone that i left behind is moving and changing too. what i am only beginning to understand is how letting go and no longer grasping for that shadow gives it the freedom to exist fully on it's own terms. because i don't wake up each morning wishing to be that self i was three years ago, that self has a more genuine and valid existence now. i have an inkling that the same principle works for future possible realities as well, although i haven't quite mastered the art of release yet. i am still a greedy raccoon, grasping desperately at the shiny memories, hopes and dreams that keep me trapped in shadowy half-selves that exist in the past and future. my intellect knows that all i have to do is let go of the coin and i'll be free of the trap, but instinct, fear and desire keeps my hand bunched up in a tight fist.

i had a visually beautiful dream last night, full of the architecture of the future. Buildings embellished with huge, sensuous curves. London-esque decoration on a far grander scale, buildings the size of amphitheatres and stadiums with twelve-foot tall curves like rose petals shaped in terracotta coloured stone. the archaic revival. men and women carried clay jars of water on their heads through the labrynthine building.

on thursday and friday this week i was at a conference with all the people throughout my company who had been in a similar role through the past year or so. it was a chance for management to find out what we had learned from the experience and to find out what suggestions we had for the next four months. It was good to feel like i had a chance to have my say, but it was really just an excuse to go out with lots of people who had all worked together but don't have a chance to see each other anymore.

Despite having a great time i'm looking forward to having some time away from work soon. Next week is my last week before a three week break. I can't wait. there's that raccoon again..