There is something about writing. Something that I love about it, being lost in the words and paper, or rather, right now, my keyboard. I'm not overly worried about grammar or structure or anything other that words flowing from my mind through my hands and out into the world.
I've had a block, that has lasted.........well, a very long time. I wouldn't call it writers block, i would categorise it as a life block. To busy to write, to hectic to think, to overwhelmed to get the word out of my head. I have an iPhone full of voice memo's of ideas and thoughts and posts that never quite make it out into the world.
Late last night, computer in my lap and in the final hours of the moon, a moon that has been particularity hard, stressful, intense and tearful, I finally wrote. I wrote a letter that started out as a communication between parents and teachers and ended up being a love letter to my daughter. My fierce, fiery, highly sensitive daughter, who frequently takes much of my available energy.
What she says is true. No one is the boss of her. She is her own boss and that is the most important thing I can teach her, or rather what she teaches me: that there is nothing wrong with her. That she is a gift to all of us and what she is bringing is an opportunity for more love, more tenderness, more understanding.
As I wrote my letter I realised that it wasn't just about my daughter. My words spiralled out in a long line behind me as I realised that what I was writing was also a love letter to my 8 year old self. The little girls, frequently misunderstood and often feeling like there was something wrong with her. As as I advocate for my daughter, I am also advocating for my past self. Sending the healing down the read thread, to that little girl inside. Time is not linear, always moving away from us, but in a spiral, bringing us back to moments where we can heal those parts of ourselves that have remained unseen, unloved. And such a balm, is the magick of awareness, of consciousness, of seeing the shamanic dimensions of behaviour issues!
I closed my computer, lay down and had the first night of sleeping though the night in months. The moon shifting into its new cycle as I slept. The morning bringing in new intentions for this cycle.
And so I write.
back in a place I love. fingers at the keyboard. Mind going faster than I can type. voice memo's reminding me of all the things I thought to say. Piles of paper with scribbles nearby. Cup of tea going cold.
And so I write.