A Meditation on Sleep

Sleep is a precious commodity these days, especially since Sam went into a bed and is no longer content to lie in his cot until I lift him out. A little voice pipes up outside my bedroom door, "Mummy I want to go downstairs" at approximately 5.45 every morning.

I don't mind, I love being woken up by this amazing little person but sometimes I am so tired and grumpy that it is quite a struggle to deal with such a ball of energy so early in the day.

Part of the deal of being single parent means I get to do this every day without respite. Very very occasionally my Dad will get up with Sam and let me lie in but this amounts to a few times every year. I do get to stay at other people's houses or even once in a while in a B&B or hotel, so I really can't complain. I am very lucky.

There are times when it is hard to catch up and sleep deprivation kicks in and recently I have been going out of my mind with tiredness. Any parent will tell you what this is like- and there is nothing like it.

My tutor suggested getting an alarm clock and gradually setting it later and later to train Sam into getting up at 7am, and I am going to give this a try. I tend to think that this is a phase that will change as the seasons do but there is no harm in helping him along a little bit. After all he's going to be waking up to an alarm clock soon enough, more's the pity. Makes me think of the t-shirt I saw with the slogun: "Alarm clocks kill dreams". I am very much a 'slow and steady wins the race' sort of person about this kind of stuff.

Last Friday, after a night at the cinema seeing Inception (I could have drifted off half way through the overly-complex plot but stopped myself), I stood outside the car park which was closed at midnight and swore at the top of my lungs out of pure tiredness and frustration...I blame the overly-long Hollywood blockbuster!

So, by arrangement with my Dad, this morning I got to lie in and he took Sam to nursery. I got to sleep in my own bed until mid morning, only disturbed by the next door neighbour choosing this morning, of all mornings, to mow his lawn.

A good night's sleep these days feels thirst-quenching. I feel rehydrated. I can see better, concentrate and be more focused and productive. I am more patient and happier. Not quite such a cantankerous old bag as usual.

Of course, this wonderful state of affairs is about to slide away but all in a good cause. Preparations for my 40th birthday are being made and I am very excited.

Strangely, and unusally, I have been having some sleepless nights because of nightmares as well as Sam's early starts. No doubt these have compounded the sleep depriavtion symptoms. I think it might be adrenalin. There is so much to look forward to in the next couple of weeks that the anticipation is keeping me awake!

Love is a Verb

I spent one day at the Goddess Conference in Glastonbury. This year the theme was the Goddess as Lover. I returned, as ever, from that place with plenty of food for thought.

The two quotes below are from the article Love, Self and Sacrifice by Stephen Howard MD:

"To care for one’s self is to care for one’s capacity to encounter, to connect, and to love. The impoverished self can love only poorly, while genuine love flows from the nurtured self. When I am tending to myself and not being sacrificial, I can choose to give. Then my giving is an act of generosity and love, springing from a full heart."

"Love is customarily thought of as a feeling. But feelings are in the area of emotion, and if we relate to someone only emotionally then we relate as partial persons. Loving is an act, an act of the whole person, of the self, encountering and connecting and committing.
When we speak of encounter, of love and spirit, many of us speak of God. It can only be the self, the fully experiencing person, which connects with such a God. If God’s primary manifestation in the world is love, then for the self which is full and nurtured love indeed is boundless. The limits of nurturing and of our own spiritual capacities can be exhausted; love itself is inexhaustible."

Lammas

I've just come back from a couple of days in Glastonbury, my centre of the universe. It always shakes everything up and makes me look unflinchingly at myself and what's going on in my world.

This time was, as ever, the same but different. It was even more different than usual. Changes are coming and this is the time I begin to consider which seeds to sow next. What is finished, what is beginning, what is ongoing... of course this comes from the turning year.

Lammas is the season for looking back and giving thanks for the harvest. Of acknowledging that which is ending and looking towards the seasons approaching and the possibilities for the future.

Next week will be four years since my Mum died. I mention this here but I do not intend to write any more about it. I have told the story of my Mum's death and Sam's birth many times and now it is time to lay that story to rest.

And give thanks for what is.

Love xxx

In one month...

I will be 40.

I like being my age, and the idea of being 40. I like pottering in the garden, writing poems, baking with Sam.

I like our new habit of football club, "Mini Dribblers", on saturday mornings, followed by a trip to the "Numbers" cafe, armed with magazine for Sam and newspaper for me.

I got my results from university yesterday and scored straight 'A's in all my creative writing modules. Not bad for an old-school drop out. And a full-time single parent.

I have started compiling poems for submission to competitions and publications. It would be great to get something published.


My life is possibly the most challenging and the most satisfying it's ever been.

Love, Love, Love
xxx

My 100th Post as LucyFurLeaps

I am thinking I should make this count but really I wanted to have a quick ramble. I am starting to get back to some writing again. Following a few weeks of manic listmaking and doing, a wonderful week's holiday in Devon with Sam and my best friend, and needing a break after the intense meltdown-producing end of last semester at university.

I have still got plenty to keep me busy- obviously full-time single motherhood is top of the list. Also the garden, see my Roar!Earth Blog for more on that, and the general re-organising and de-cluttering of the house.

I am trying to find time to get my bike serviced and go swimming but haven't quite managed it yet...

Poetry is still my main concern.

Politics is creeping in too, after the inevitable let-down of the ConDem coalition. I am choosing what I read and when I read it carefully because it is so depressing and worrying. But I am keeping informed and wondering where to start 'acting'.

I am going to join a political party. I am fairly sure which one it will be but it is conditional. More writing on this when I have done the deed.

The Ingredients of a sword

A spoon

Playdoh

Cricket bat

Bubble mixture

Tin foil

String

Wrapping paper

("We don’t need socks")

A paper plate

A paper bowl

As instructed by Sam

A Slight Blow of My Own Trumpet.

June has only gone and turned into July! I have written bits and bobs but nothing substantial for a while. In truth I haven't stopped in other ways. I have been catching up with the huge list of tasks around the house which have been waiting for me to finish university for this year. I've spent time with Sam and been on holiday to Devon for a week. I've been trying to keep track of my burgeoning vegetable patch (see the Roar! Earth blog for more). I've read a few books and entered a couple of competitions.

But, if you'll pardon the vulgarity, I'm going to have a slight parp on my own trumpet here, because on Monday I got my Independent Creative Writing assignment back from uni, marked by my tutor Rachel Cusk, and I got 80%. She has called me " a marvellous poet" amongst other very postive comments.

I am so relieved to have got a first for this latest collection of my poems, among them six sestinas. I worked very hard on them and they mean a lot to me. What it really means though, is that I have to keep going.

This is just the beginning.
Leaping! xxx