Today I sat in my garden and nobody could see me. There is a spot where I can sit, hidden by shrubs, beech hedge and a really big and odd Tropical Thing, and not one of my many neighbours can see me. This is such a simple thing, but it feels secretive, subversive, deliciously under the radar.
I sat invisible and quiet, watching house martins swoop and dive across the rooftops, cradling a lovely clay vessel cup of raspberry leaf tea to my frankly grumpy womb (menopausal periods. A complete trip, but only if you can give them the time and space they/you need) and…. did nothing! What. A. Treat.
It was a result of pausing, and listening. I had been mooning about, running through the list of things I could do on my day off, most of which were pleasant, but not really doing any of them. And so I didn’t, which led me to sitting. And that was what I wanted and needed to do.
I had another listening this morning too. I went for a run, which was also good. As I ran along Rodborough Lane, *something* arrested my attention. Does this ever happen to you? It does to me. I feel a particular compulsion to be at a particular spot or do a particular thing, and if I don’t it …. nags. Uncomfortably. I don’t always listen and I always regret it. This particular something was a gate leading to a footpath. I dithered for a minute, and then decided to leave my planned route and go down it. Having decided – I stepped forth decisively – a bird of prey called loudly 3 times from a tree above me. Once over the stile, I found a beautiful watery fossil right at my foot. When it was in my hand, I felt a satisfied ‘rightness’.
Back in my garden, once I had sat, I was restored. I cooked chicken stock, I cleaned the kitchen, I picked up the kids from school, I did a sneaky forage in the park, and have now made wild garlic flower vinegar, wild garlic butter (thanks Steve England for the idea) and a nettle infusion set brewing for tomorrow. Nom nom!