A Monday morning beach walk and lessons to learn from this season.

2nd May 2027

Are there really beavers living close to where I live?

My shoulders ache; my body is tired. The smallest of tasks feel mammoth. My body craves rest but my mind has different ideas. It wants me to think, work out what to do, problem-solve and worry. I fight to quieten it but the truth is I haven't enough energy. I haven't even enough energy to put on a load of washing in the machine but my kids need clean school shirts. I haven't enough energy to make packed lunches but my kids need to eat. I check what homework they have got, lay the table for dinner, load the dishwasher, make sure the guinea-pigs are fed. My husband, thankfully, makes dinner otherwise I don't know how we would eat. The entire day is like walking through treacle. I cry in sheer exhaustion. The bare minimum is too much. Then I repeat this day after day, year after year. This is surviving, getting through each moment, each day, each year until many have passed and I can no longer remember how living truly feels. How it felt to have cancer-related fatigue and cancer-related PTSD. Thankfully, I don't have many days like this any more, though I can have a run of them during times of stress, when menstruating and after socialising (I'm still not used to it and find it very tiring). The cancer-related fatigue has gone but my energy levels are still a lot lower than they were before my cancer diagnosis and I'm impacted by PTSD on an, almost, daily basis. This has lessened and is becoming more manageable but is triggered by stress and tiredness. You can see the cycle I can get trapped in here. I'm sharing this during Breast Cancer Awareness Month to raise awareness of the long-term impacts of being someone who has had cancer. Also, please check your breasts /chest. It's tough living with the impacts, mostly mental and emotional now, of cancer but I'm, of course, very grateful to be here. Early detection of cancer means outcomes are likely to be better. I found my breast cancer by chance whilst washing . Don't leave it to chance, check today and make it a monthly routine.

In a world of car-dominating towns and cities, what happens if people, plants and animals are put first?

Walking in it's strange to be in a primary school, a once familiar setting now so alien. I turn right, enter the hall and it's a primary school no more. A beautiful alter creates a a focal point in the centre of the room, the space is ready for the start of a sister circle for Beltane (also now known as May Day). I'm greeted by Anna, who I met at the Imbolc circle she facilitated, and asked if I want to be smudged to which I answer yes. I have somewhere along this journey towards an authentic life become able to embrace what I would have found uncomfortable before. 

I unpack my bag. Firstly, taking out and unrolling my yoga mat (my daughter's yoga mat as yoga is not something I do), place my journal and pen next to me and sit crossed-legged on my mat with my blanket covering my feet. Anna goes around the circle, with the invitation for people to pick a card, I guess it's a set of oracle cards. By mistake I take three instead of one! Embracing Change, The Power of Support and Grace. So apt.

I'm eating it, crunching it between my teeth. It's on my coffee cup, it's in my hair and my eyes. My phone has a sprinkle of it's grittiness and so has my coat! It's covering the road and is continuing to swirl across from the beach, Coating my camper van, no doubt! The beach has been flattened. It looks smooth and new. Footprints covered as soon as they are made. A few brave walkers head into the wind, hoods up and heads bowed, Walking with determination. Nature is powerful and strong in all her wildness.

I'm going to share a little about my garden, in case you are interested and so you might be able to support me in rewilding it and making it more nature friendly. The back garden is mostly lawn. We need to keep it that way as half of it is used for the guinea-pig run, rotating it every few days. This half has currently got lots of lesser celandine, which are good for pollinators. The plant mostly dies off by the time its warm enough for the guinea-pigs to be outside. I have to pull up any remaining plants and anything else that is toxic for them to eat. The other half is wilder and left uncut. A greater variety of plants grow including daisies and ragwort. We keep it as lawn so a tent can be put up for the kids. I also like to put a blanket down and sit on it (once it's drier). Around the edges of the lawn is left fairly wild but we also grow strawberries. The strawberry patch was used by hedgehogs last year to forage for invertebrates, I should think because it was unweeded it provided a lot more for them. Though, I may have to weed it a bit this year to allow the strawberry plants to grow. The front garden was block paved by previous owners. I've got pots growing food and some with flowers. I'd like to increase the amount of food I grow in this area. I use the front garden for this as it has lots of sunshine. I'd also like to increase the plants for pollinators and have bees and butterflies constantly flying from flower to flower. That's me, how about you? What's your garden like? Extract from the Changemaker membership which I run from my Patreon page (there's also a private FB group). We are starting our new focus: Rewilding our gardens and incorporating rest as we move into the, often, busier seasons of spring and summer. It's a form of gentle activism within a supportive community and you're invited! Join for 7 days (it's free!), a month, all spring or more. Any questions? Just ask.

This was a pilgrimage I took last year at Imbolc. I found using the energy of the rising spring was the right time to think about the new year and to let go of some of the things that were no longer serving me. 

I can very gratefully say, that I am now almost three years post hospital treatment for cancer. I’m healthy and I’m okay. I appear from the outside, perhaps, to be totally fine moving through life as before. However, this could not be further from the truth. Barely a day goes by when I don’t think about my cancer experience, often getting consumed by it. The thing that I’ve recently come to realise is that an illness, like this, is actually often initiatory. I have and I am going through a huge transformation, an initiation back into life and it looks like nothing’s happening from the outside. I have also found that there is little acknowledgement, understanding or support for this process. That’s not to say I’ve had no support, what it is to say, though, is that there has been no long term holding of my experience from the wider society. I haven’t been able to communicate this very well thus far, for I only just realised it myself thanks to reading ‘Descent and Rising’ by Carly Mountain. In this book Carly cleverly uses the ancient myth of Inanna alongside modern day real-life stories to show the descent into the underworld often felt by people including those who have illnesses. Up until this point, I simply thought something was wrong with me, that I was failing to recover emotionally.

So, this daily onslaught of emotions manifests for me in many ways. Mostly, it takes a lot of headspace, meaning not a lot left for anything else. It also takes a lot of energy as I try to hold the tension (a phrase I’m so grateful for from ‘Wild Power’ by Alexandra Pope and Sjarnie Hugo Wurlitzer) as I try to hold the enormity of my feelings, feel them, not shy away from them, acknowledge them and behold myself alongside functioning as a human being and as a mother. Emotions of anger, grief, sadness and guilt flow through me on a regular basis. I try to think of them as boats passing me on a river (a technique I learnt by attending a course run by Force Cancer Charity); I know they will go past and I won’t feel like that forever. But the boats can turn round quite quickly and sail back up the river, demanding constant attention.

Thankfully, my cancer-related fatigue stopped around the end of 2021, this level of fatigue is another thing not widely understood in our society. It was debilitating making it almost impossible to look after my children. However, the fatigue was replaced with being tired almost all the time. There’s a difference in that the fatigue never got better with rest but the tiredness can sometimes be eased. Fast forward to June 2023 (when I wrote this blog post), quite a considerable time has passed but I’m tired a lot of the time. I can’t plan much, I wouldn’t feel safe driving for more than about 30 minutes, I have to base my days around the essential tasks and by that I simply mean ensuring we are fed and clothed. In between this I rest. 

A hard learnt thing is rest. It also takes up so much energy to deconstruct the capitalist norms I’ve internalised about my value being linked to productivity. Rest is not simply stopping, the mind needs to be stilled as well. This relearning to rest takes a lot of headspace and energy. I’ve recently read ‘Wise Power’, another excellent book by Alexandra Pope and Sjarnie Hugo Wurlitzer and learnt the term ‘snudging’ which is what I now base my days around, doing just enough to get by (whilst being aware I miss people’s birthdays, lose touch with friends, stay partly in the underworld as there isn’t enough energy to emerge and this in turn creates grief which takes so much energy). This is hard, extremely painful, overwhelming and lonely work for me, however, I now can see it as an initiatory process with gold at the end. I’ve stripped back so much of my life as I entered the underworld and I’m now slowly finding new, boundaried ways of emerging. 

I feel, to be honest, that I’ll rise just in time to hit another initiatory process, menopause. At aged 44 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, menopause seemed a long way off, not even remotely on the horizon, now aged 47 it’s within sight. Maybe, I’m already in it (I’m taking oestrogen suppressing medication so I could be), almost everything written in ‘Wise Power’ a book about menopause sings to my experience but this could be because the initiation I'm experiencing is archetypally like other initiatory processes. I would say, for sure, that trying to recover emotionally from cancer merges with perimenopause, a lack of energy having my oestrogen (medically) supressed along with parenting without a village. It’s a difficult mix. However, on the surface, in some respects, I carry on with everyday life: I wash the clothes, hang them to dry, do some work (though not what I was doing before), pick up the kids, make packed lunches, clear up after dinner etc. But this is just snudging, doing enough to get by whilst trying to trust that being in this unknown is okay, that I will fully emerge back into life, a new life, a much more authentic life with more ease and joy. I get glimpses but, of course, it’s not the linear process we have been taught to expect. 

This is hidden work going on, not just for me, but for others experiencing illness, the initiation into parenthood, menopause and other initiatory processes. But in the hiding, wider understanding is lost. But in the telling, the teller/the sharer, puts their vulnerability in the hands of others, unless they can simply behold themselves. So, that leaves me to enquire can I see myself clearly enough, can I say this is who I am and how I am for the greater good of the wider society gaining some understanding and for me being my authentic self? Or do I just leave this as a file on my laptop, gathering metaphorical dust as the risk of being vulnerable is too big right now?

 

Well, the dust gathered for six months, I recently received a PTSD diagnosis related to my cancer experience and I snudged my way to this point. I decided to share this now in case anyone else is in need of the strategy of snudging but also to say this is me, this is how it is. This is my truth.