Homebody

Last weekend I went on a retreat called ‘Homebody’.

It was a snap decision back in December to book, after seeing and craving the beautiful Tree Relaxation Retreat online and connecting to the theme of coming home to yourself. When, in January, everything went bananas in my personal life, the retreats ‘no cancellation policy’ meant I couldnt do my usual ‘chuck out of self care and focus on what others need’ response!

Instead, I retreated, to the gorgeous north Yorkshire countryside, both wild and pretty, with lambs and purple heather alongside a chapel filled with incense. 13 tender women, movement and sound baths and a space carefully held by the joyful Heidi Gowthorpe, was delicious and an indulgence I raw-ly needed.

On the last day I was feeling a bit heady, which swiftly tumbled into a short sharp flu and I stumbled into bed as soon as I got home- again frustrated, I relaxed too hard! As I emerged on Tuesday, still feeling other worldly, the internal rest I received at the weekend started to come back to me.

I wrote 2 poems while away. I love writing poems, each chapter of my book begins with one. I love softening the hard edges of the justice work I do, with a humanising poem, where thought meets art. One poem was about purpose, the other about an experience I am still processing- maybe I’ll share that one another time.

I went to the retreat with a question, How can I express myself now, where are my thoughts and words needed, what is my next purpose? This is the poem that answered.

My Beam

My Beam. Bent and fractured light, Bouncing between mirrors

Or, Diffuse light. Blanketing, kissing each surface

Or, Absorbed. Sucked into depth, the light version of a bass OMmm.

Or, Flickering. Lighting in bursts and splutters, not enough to light true.

Or, Weakened. Thin light cooling, washed out, not enough to see by.

Not enough. Not enough?

Or maybe just blocked, misdirected, dimmed. Maybe we are full of light untapped.

My beam. Internal. Filling my lungs, my hips, my belly.

Hands aching for clay, eyes delighting in colour, heart shaping perspectives.

All that shining, pouring out of light. Searching energy, looking for direction. We are all looking out, craving, needing to flow in one direction or another, wavering. But the glow is gathering inside, waiting to be expressed.

Seeking out. Seeking leads me directly, to my feet. My roots, through grass and soil and rock. Down, down, below, underneath. Here molten stone boils with truth. Hot reds flame gold, pooling, flowing jammy water.

My water. My ocean, emotion, intuition. My loneliness, imagination, when it reaches the depths, it all freezes. Threatened by the heat, protection in ice.

My breath, breathe. Airy space. Breathe deeply. There is safety in regulation and the warmth seeps inside me, fortifying, melting, quenching.

My beam, my light intones.

Root deeply, feel fully, let the fire rise.

Find out more about my book, Healing-Centred Transformation: Mend, Tend and Change the Future, here.