Brave New Year

It’s ten days since I wrote anything here, and I started this blog with the intention of writing a little something every day. The reason for my absence is my shame at moaning all the time. And if the writing is going well and I’m saying how wonderful everything is, that strikes me as equally tedious. What I need to do, I think, is write from the heart like Trish ‘cooking’ Currie and not from my head. I need to go deeper and I need to be more spontaneous.

    Which is exactly what Roselle gets you to do and exactly why her workshops are so terrifying and exactly why I’ve taken my courage in both hands and booked into her Thresholds Day on 1 February (Imbolc/Candlemas).

    And why I’ve arranged to go and stay with my sister in London (people/family and London being some of the things that terrify me most).

    And why I’m at last practising using the hearing aids I got two years ago even though they make the world of sound come alive in the most terrifying ways – my own breathing sounds like a pervert down the phone and I had to stop Frog shaking out his washing last weekend as it sounded like claps of thunder.
    Two days ago I had my first hearing walk. The motorway roared like an overhead jet but at the same time I could hear so many birds I thought it was May and I was listening to the dawn chorus.