I spent a weekend down South, close to the ocean. Glorious. I was up super early this particular morning. I felt compelled to go outside and take a walk on the beach. I grabbed my bag for the essentials; notebook and pen, coins for coffee and mobile phone. I walked out of the Hotel and was greeted by tall pine trees with a shade of pink in the horizon.
Stepping out onto the sand I felt it’s coolness; unlike the warmth of the day before. I’m reminded of Thich Naht Hahn’s quote
Walk as if you are kissing the Earth
I walked gently on the sand – I relaxed. I then looked up. I could see the pink of the sky. I could see the Sun’s rise. I felt wonder and a certain shock at my own reaction; it was as if I was witnessing the Sun’s rise for the first time! It was silent save for the soothing lapping of waves. I was silent.
I took a few photos. When the light show finished and the Sun settled in its position of golden white light, I looked around somehow expecting thunderous applause from everyone. There was only silence because of course this happens everyday.
As I turned my back to walk towards the cafe nestled on the sand’s edge, I could feel the Sun peering over me and saying I do this everyday. This is what I do. Everyday. I thought about it. Yes Sun you do this everyday and you don’t wait for anything; you don’t expect anything.
At the cafe I ordered my coffee and settled to write my Morning Pages. I wanted to take another photo of my position here … so I flicked from my blank pages to one of my handwritten pages. Another moment of synchronicity – Ready to take a photo, I looked at the words I had written months earlier – The Sun – “The Sun is the navel chakra of this Universe. It radiates the divine masculine principles onto us.” It’s a Diana Cooper quote.
The cloak of wonder fitted around me more closely and I felt just humbled and grateful for this morning. I could feel my aura fill with brilliant golden light of the Sun.
Have you watched the glorious Sun play it’s light show lately?
I recently caught a bus to the Eastern Suburbs of Sydney. An area I don’t frequent often. Sure there are occasional visits. However sitting high on the bus seat and turning into Oxford Street, I started to feel it’s pull. The city’s pull. And that’s when I realised you don’t have to be a tourist. Maybe it was the way I felt; carefree. No rushed appointments and travelling alone to a writer’s festival in Woollahra. An indulgent thing to do on a Saturday – a slight chill, sunny and Winter in Sydney. I felt like a tourist
I felt the pull to the creative and recalled a time I was working on magazines. Carefree. Fun. Creative.
There were trees that said hello again. Twists to streets that said you took your time. Iconic signs that still flaunted their products. Restaurants, bars and cafes that did not want to be dragged into the new millienum. I could feel the energy of the 80s. A time of the “corporate lunch”, shoulder pads, Wendy Heather knits and Robert Clergerie heels. Red wine. And yes the Aussie’s American’s Cup win. More red wine.
Sitting high on the bus, I pass the many restaurants and cafes I would visit, cappuccinos still waiting for a stir. And there was the street where we would celebrate lunch that would take us across the road for an evening meal and then the cab for breakfast. Red wine and cappuccinos.And the trees stretch out their bare limbs across the path. The same trees.
I am at the council chambers where the Festival is to take place. I’m early so I walk through the gardens and look out below onto the bay. I am joined by a lady that stops and remarks that there are two bathers down below. I take a closer look and see two swimming in rhythm and their laps seem to be my Morning Pages – today their strokes and laps are my three pages. I pull out my camera to take a photo of the scene below and in that instant somehow I break the spell – the lady next to me walks off. I look out and see her strolling away and wonder about her quick departure.
It’s time for the Festival to start. I turn my back to the landscape, walk inside and take a seat. The first presenter is Marlere Day, the lady who joined me early on. Crime writer. She starts to talk about her writing practice and I fall back into the spell. I was sitting on the bus again and listening to her landscape; the landscape of a story. Go with the story she said “The psychology of the city“.
At the Woollahra Writers Festival 2013
She talked about the energy of a city and how she would not take photos of scenes but instead write a paragraph of her impressions. I settled back in my seat and was ready for a day of magic. Synchronicity. And that was just the start.
“Procrastination is another form fear.” Robin Sharma
It’s Tuesday, and I recall I proclaimed here that I would blog every Tuesday. Something about making myself accountable … Well if you are reading this, it has worked; for this week anyway. However, of course there was much procrastination. An inner enquiry led to the above heading and with a bit of Google I found this -
I have transcribed the Sanskrit quote Robin Sharma refers to -
“Spring has past
Summer has gone
Winter is here.
The Song that I am meant to sing
for I have spent my days stringing
and unstringing my instrument.”
There’s a lot to dwell on here.
In answer to my question above regarding procrastination; it seems that by “putting it out there” and making myself ”accountable” I act, take steps. That’s ok. However, something here tells me that being accountable to oneself should be enough to act, to take steps, move forward and so not procrastinate. More to dwell on here and I guess I am being accountable for being accountable.
I also know I do a lot of stringing and unstringing however it’s also with a lot of instruments!
I knew the answer before she raised her eyebrows. “Where are you not nurturing yourself?” It was one of those healing sessions. I immediately thought of my creative writing. I could see my stats. I have not published a blog since March. So, I have not wandered down to my local cafe, to sit, sip a mocha and just type away on my blog and press Publish … since March.
Today, I am sitting in an outdoor cafe with the Sun on my back. I left my phone/camera at home so do not have the luxury of just taking a photo to share with you. I am looking out towards a garden that has pink camelias in bloom, deciduous trees that filter in the Autumn sun and a lady sitting nearby reading from a hardcover book. There are leaves rustling their golden sounds and flipping through the air for their last hurrah. I can hear crows in the distance reciting their mantras.
“But I do take care of myself.” Came the feeble reply. And then I thought of my blog. I have spent a lot of time writing, but not my creative writing; not blogging. It’s with my blogging I experience synchronicity; something I have not had great bursts of recently. So I hereby make myself accountable to blog regularly and I’m plucking Tuesdays out of the air. I will write daily and blog regularly on Tuesdays.
I think we are all getting better at taking care of ourselves and trying not to be so negative. However, Where are you not loving your Self?
Posted in Blogging, Books, Creativity, Healing, Nature, Synchronicity, Uncategorized, Writing
Tagged blogging, Cafes, Creativity, Synchronicity