Starting a New Year.

In a strange way, coming back to my blog always feels like coming home. Despite the absences becoming longer and longer it never feels like I’ve lost touch completely. Blogging is always on my mind.

I have been wanting to come here and write something for a while; knowing what to write has been difficult. All I did know is that I wanted to write something that could offer some comfort to a world that is increasingly strange and disorienting. But with each day that comes the direction of what I think to write changes. Pinpointing a kaleidoscope of motions to one colour is impossible. What needs to be expressed evolves so rapidly.

At first I struggled with the mood swings. I started to feel as though my body had escaped my mind, and was running wild while my mind reluctantly took a step back and wondered what it could do. Irritable would have been an adequate word to describe me. Nightmare too. I wasn’t enjoying my own company and therefore assume nobody around me enjoyed it much either. It makes it difficult to say how I’m feeling; neither a part of me that I like very much or a thing I wish to be. Yet here I am, having to admit that it is a part of me and scooping my body up into my minds arms and loving it relentlessly despite not feeling very much in love. Forgiveness.

There’s only one thing I’ve found to bring me peace recently and it’s simply doing nothing. Taking a couple of hours here and there to lay down and listen to music and thoughts.

Yesterday I made bread for the first time in a while, a process I enjoy because it reminds me of my dad. It makes me smile when I remember him in our family kitchen, and how much joy he gains from trying the new tricks he’s learned from the TV cooking programmes he watches. Especially when it goes very well. When he shares what he’s made we never tell him that it’s really good. We don’t admit that actually it is the best we’ve ever had until his back is safely turned, because otherwise he’d feel far too proud and gloat about it! A trait in my dad that I have always found amusing rather than abrasive.

Afterwards, with the help of a phone call to a friend, I came to a slight revelation: My self-confidence took a knock last year during the first lockdown and I still haven’t fully recovered from that. The current climate of the world has strained emotions, relationships, time, to all kinds of different proportions. Sometimes unbearable. Though I am still unable to vocalise exactly where my head has been through most of these days, I can’t pretend it hasn’t happened. I’ve felt disconnected more than ever, although I know there are a lot of people out there who will understand what I’m saying, without me having to say too much.

But anyway, the conclusion from much musing is to work on my self-confidence, and rebloom this Spring as the side of me I respect.

I am happy I have been able to write something here at last. Words often feel like the only thing I have to give, but regardless of that, I want to give as many as possible. With them I can send you a bouquet of fringed tulips, breezy pink and wavering like a sunset. Think of them and know I am thinking of them too; we are dreaming together under the same sky. Know you are never alone.

Hannah Maggie x

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