Taexalia

wild.life

Wee Blossoms

Forget Me Not

I am absolutely determined to get to 28th July and have a blog post for every day. I know there is a theory about quality over quantity but this is my challenge to myself to actually write something here every day. I am trying to build the habit of daily writing and learn a bit of self discipline where creativity is concerned.

That sounds a bit odd ~ "self discipline where creativity is concerned" but I think that creativity blossoms when I am disciplined about Practise.

The reason I won't be blogging after 28th July is because I will be flying to New Hampshire to spend a week with my annual women's retreat. It's good soul time and I can't wait to see everyone again. It's my time to kick back and reconnect with my soul, reclaim my sealskin and whoop it up with some truly inspiring wild women.

Perhaps the grinding feeling I have trying to think of something to write today is just a reflection of the fact that this is the end of my year and that I'm almost climbing into a time machine to get to my destination and rejuvenate.

Or perhaps it is that nothing of note happened today and I didn't go and seek something. I spent several hours twiddling with my websites but who wants to hear about that?

The only other thing I did was continue unlocking the filing cabinet of youth after re-discovering a poem that I had learned as a child. I know that I know it all and I know it's all in there somewhere. I have been reconstructing the memory, the way I voiced it thirty odd years ago and it's almost all there save a few lines in the middle.

It is another piece of the jigsaw of reclaiming my dramatic childhood storyteller. I'm not sure where she went or why she got lost. I'm not sure why none of my schoolteachers nurtured her. It doesn't really matter because she is still there, just a little dusty and scattered - but she's coming.