On taking it slowly...

This morning, I spotted a photo my friend Claire had shared. It's here.

That day we had a gorgeous swim in a lake, instigated by our friend Matthew. Matthew died a few years ago, but before he did I had the pleasure to know him, to have him coach me through my first open water swim in another lake, to swim with him in Morecombe Bay, to witness his pleasure in the simple things in life, and to be invited to share that. He taught me to swim better than I've swum before and I'm very grateful to him. I could swim before, and for ages, but now I'm like a graceful fish - ha. Maybe not quite.

Then we drove to school, passing (not unusually) several freshly dead creatures on the road. Being that we're driving country roads in the Yorkshire Dales, it's not uncommon to see a few specimens of road kill on our school run. The deer we saw today though, its life blood spilling over the road, and the birds having taken some prize picks, made me stop and think more. We'd already slowed for a pheasant, and watching these birds move off my path always makes me wonder about eating and killing creatures. They're not offering themselves up to die willingly and are always happy to be able to scuttle away.

But onwards, back past the deer on my return, and to our dog walking. What struck me there, worthy of a share here I felt (you'll probably be the better judge of that - do let me know), was the joy of getting to know somewhere well, deeply and through all seasons. Walking alongside the same stretch of river is something I feel very grateful for. Seeing the seasons, the changing times, the changing water, the vegetation grow, flourish and die feels like being an insider on something that governments and nations resist against all the time. There are cycles. Cycles of growth, of death, of destruction even. It's not all about the summer. Winter is needed, the calm, the dark, the quiet, to balance the exuberance, the growth. We can't just keep on growing, it's against the laws of nature. We  need to slow, to stop too.

So here we got to slow, to watch the heron fishing, flying and being. What a gift. To slow down, immerse ourselves (I say ourselves - the dog was busy following some great smells, but I guess she was totally present in that space). We got to see the goosanders (what an amazing name they have!) paddling on the river - sometimes on this stretch and sometimes further down river. We watched it flow, this ever changing, glorious, mysterious substance that we couldn't live without. And I slowed down a little more.

I think it's a whole lifestyle shift, to slow and centre more. I'm learning, but it takes me time. I'm lucky I've people in my life who are so different to me, teaching me, showing me, and whilst sometimes this can frustrate me, it's so wonderful to be shown a different way, one that might be uncomfortable to start with - but I'm determined to explore it further. 

I'm off to check out a retreat setting shortly, and then tomorrow I've the pleasure of Trevor Gunn teaching at my naturopathic nutrition course. Happy to have slowed down a while this morning, and I'm planning to carry some of that energy with me through the weekend and times ahead.

With love,

Em x