Bubbles and what not…

When I am tired I feel like possibly the smallest person on this planet ever… (I am quite tired now…)


It leads to all sorts of things in trying to deal with it:


  • Sadness. Always sadness. In the small places there seems to be loneliness in me and I think this makes me feel sad. And lonely.
  • Defensiveness. Because I am so small I must be a tiger. Tired tiger…. Rah!
  • Confusion. Why? Why? Why me? Why now? What’s going on? Oh… tired.
  • Grumpgrumpalump. Everything is wrong. EVERYTHING I tell you!
  • General NAFI – I am not arsed or f*cking interested…. Also known as “Meh”
  • General indecision, ineffectiveness and unhealthy footling causing further tiredness. Often caused by avoidance of the sad and lonely feelings and accompanied by madly trying to get in touch with someone to stave off the woe. Woe, oh woe.
  • Great quantities of back ache. Ow.


What I would love when I am tired:


  • Cuddles and cwtching.
  • Stretching maybe to help my poor back after it has put up with my posture all day. Easing out the kinks. If this is too much that is fine too. The bath will go some distance to helping that out too.
  • Tea. Preferably brought to me.
  • Creativity. Of some sort, although cooking is generally too physical in times of extreme tiredness. It brings me back to myself.
  • Always this. Creating brings me back to myself.
  • A bath –a lovely, hot, essential oil scented bath of gorgeousness. Possibly with bubbles. Rosemary and Rose Geranium… Clary Sage and Lavender… Bergamot and some more bergamot…. Ahhhhhh.
  • A gentle, loving, care filled reminder that I am tired –rest is allowed as much as it is necessary. Being Superwoman can continue tomorrow.
  • Stillness and quiet. Breath.
  • Reiki? Yes, I like that idea of some Reiki in the quiet moments. Perhaps after a bath when I’m pink and relaxed.
  • Permission. I think this might be quite important.


Many monsters raise their heads when I am tired. My defences are down and their voices clamour for attention and most of the time this leads to me trying to shut their voices out. Except tonight I just stopped for a millisecond and thought, “Oh I am just tired.”


I think it has taken me just under thirty years to recognise this and I am rather pleased that it now gives me a chance to sit back and take care of myself!


Now I am off for a bath.



Holding the light

I am so late with this that you could have run around the world and lapped me twice. Or whatever. It goes something like that.


This year – it’s about carrying my light. I know – how cheesy. But it doesn’t stop it being what it is about.


Last year was a tidal wash out of overwhelm that started in April 2009. In its wake I have been left bobbing about wondering what the hell happened and who the hell I am.


Writing about it has slowly led to me realising that the essence of who I am is something that I see as a light and that often, when overwhelmed I let it get smothered and forget who I am.


So holding my light or carrying my light is about learning to hold those things apart from me. It’s a glorified form of my shit or their shit.


More will follow.