Sunday morning, and we woke to light snow that quite quickly has become great big, fat snowflakes making everything look beautiful. There is the outdoor Christmas Carol service next door at the manor later; it will be cold but perfect. I’m not a church person but I do love a carol. Specifically, ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’, ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ (irony), and ‘Little Town of Bethlehem’ (or whatever it’s called).
I turned 60 last week. My hair is white. I have a bad shoulder. I’m a shitty dresser and a lousy housekeeper. I don’t have any close friends— but somehow I’m happy! The big day was pretty uneventful. There was no party. No gifts. No phone calls from friends or family. My kids has exams. I could have been sad but I wasn’t. I was relieved to be on my own. I sat in the garden and watched the birds and drank a cup of tea and blew out a candle on a slice of tiramisu, made a wish then savored every bite. I bought myself books and art. I made myself happy. I didn’t wait for someone else to do it for me. That was the best gift.
The 1 year anniversary of my husband’s death was also this week. I've been dreading this anniversary. I’ve needed desperately to move forward but couldn't see past that date. It’s like I’ve been holding my breath for a year--but now I’ve let it out. Some of the ghosts are moving on. The house is starting to feel like mine. My life is starting to feel like mine and, much to my surprise, there is no guilt. I am not feeling sad or angry or scared because I am 60 and on my own. I’ve honored memories and fulfilled commitments as a wife. I’ve grieved the loss of my husband and father — but now I’m allowing myself to celebrate —to feel excited about my new life on my own. I am an independent, strong, free, art making woman with two beautiful, strong, art making college age daughters and I live in a wonky old cottage in overgrown woods that’s all mine to do with as I wish. I have a pack of weird and wonderful dogs and I have my work as an artist— my marvelous, fills my heart and soul work. Life is good. It wasn’t for a while but I’ve reached a clearing and I’m —relieved and content--finally. There are no men in my life now and I could write pages on how that is affecting my transformation but I’ll just say that it is proving to be liberating and magical in ways I had not anticipated. I am looking forward to seeing what the 60's bring.
I love reading someone else’s lists, it’s like peeking into a handbag so thank you for sharing this way.
I’ve convinced myself to do 20 min yoga classes two times this week, and I’ve also tested myself two times for Covid, seriously wondering how I’ve managed to escape, still, while I put masks into my bag and car as I’ve decided to stop playing roulette.
Like you, I’m thinking about circles and I am fascinated by their concentric rings. Much like the London tube system, what zone do I/we fall into and who is in the center, and why...
Just finished a workout and my arms are shaking, in a good way. Grateful to be back in a place physically where I can get a workout in without it wiping me out completely. Squats and lunges still hurt like hell and on the bad days I wonder if they'll never not hurt. Yet, the physical challenges of the last two years have taught me a lot about life, myself, and where I'd like to belong to. On the good days it has felt so spacious and right. On the bad ones I wonder what even is the point of it all. This push and pull to follow these delights and put it out for the world to enjoy or just hide in my own cave and never share a single piece of anything. Oh Mars, please hurry up and leave my 10th House already.
I love you for your courage, I hope you find that place in the sun if it has your name on it, I just want it on record that I would miss you more than words can say. Coffee? x
Circles (and spirals - the ebb and flow of spending time with others according to our energy and seasons) rather than hierarchies is such crucial nourishment for my own nature.
Your 12th House Moon: I have a number of friends with this exact placement - Air Moons too. But that Moon of yours that's so social & nurtured by communication, ideas, & expression (Gemini) in the 12th speaks so loudly to all you describe - so exactly.
I've found 12th House Moon people to be some of the kindest, most supportive, self-aware, & intuitive people. The compensation for not receiving seems to be a developed capacity for giving (and seeing others) in the ways they too deserve to receive and be held. The bete noir demands much in its solitary confinement, & in return the gifts of imagination and compassion (for others - not as much toward the self) are often profound. Fortunately, astrology can improve with age what arthritis can fuck over. Love your words always. x
Sitting in the laundrette after the pipe burst and we have to wait for the kitchen to dry out a bit before using electricity again. I am still, or maybe even because of it, overcome with a deep sense of gratitude. In a non-bullshit way. It’s all a fucking privilege. Having a car to go to the laundrette which is a mile away, being insured and them delivering an industrial dehumidifier which has already made a huge difference, the fact that the heating wasn’t affected, the rest of the house being unaffected...
I turned 60 last week. My hair is white. I have a bad shoulder. I’m a shitty dresser and a lousy housekeeper. I don’t have any close friends— but somehow I’m happy! The big day was pretty uneventful. There was no party. No gifts. No phone calls from friends or family. My kids has exams. I could have been sad but I wasn’t. I was relieved to be on my own. I sat in the garden and watched the birds and drank a cup of tea and blew out a candle on a slice of tiramisu, made a wish then savored every bite. I bought myself books and art. I made myself happy. I didn’t wait for someone else to do it for me. That was the best gift.
The 1 year anniversary of my husband’s death was also this week. I've been dreading this anniversary. I’ve needed desperately to move forward but couldn't see past that date. It’s like I’ve been holding my breath for a year--but now I’ve let it out. Some of the ghosts are moving on. The house is starting to feel like mine. My life is starting to feel like mine and, much to my surprise, there is no guilt. I am not feeling sad or angry or scared because I am 60 and on my own. I’ve honored memories and fulfilled commitments as a wife. I’ve grieved the loss of my husband and father — but now I’m allowing myself to celebrate —to feel excited about my new life on my own. I am an independent, strong, free, art making woman with two beautiful, strong, art making college age daughters and I live in a wonky old cottage in overgrown woods that’s all mine to do with as I wish. I have a pack of weird and wonderful dogs and I have my work as an artist— my marvelous, fills my heart and soul work. Life is good. It wasn’t for a while but I’ve reached a clearing and I’m —relieved and content--finally. There are no men in my life now and I could write pages on how that is affecting my transformation but I’ll just say that it is proving to be liberating and magical in ways I had not anticipated. I am looking forward to seeing what the 60's bring.
I love reading someone else’s lists, it’s like peeking into a handbag so thank you for sharing this way.
I’ve convinced myself to do 20 min yoga classes two times this week, and I’ve also tested myself two times for Covid, seriously wondering how I’ve managed to escape, still, while I put masks into my bag and car as I’ve decided to stop playing roulette.
Like you, I’m thinking about circles and I am fascinated by their concentric rings. Much like the London tube system, what zone do I/we fall into and who is in the center, and why...
Just finished a workout and my arms are shaking, in a good way. Grateful to be back in a place physically where I can get a workout in without it wiping me out completely. Squats and lunges still hurt like hell and on the bad days I wonder if they'll never not hurt. Yet, the physical challenges of the last two years have taught me a lot about life, myself, and where I'd like to belong to. On the good days it has felt so spacious and right. On the bad ones I wonder what even is the point of it all. This push and pull to follow these delights and put it out for the world to enjoy or just hide in my own cave and never share a single piece of anything. Oh Mars, please hurry up and leave my 10th House already.
I love you for your courage, I hope you find that place in the sun if it has your name on it, I just want it on record that I would miss you more than words can say. Coffee? x
You're a tonic.
Circles (and spirals - the ebb and flow of spending time with others according to our energy and seasons) rather than hierarchies is such crucial nourishment for my own nature.
Your 12th House Moon: I have a number of friends with this exact placement - Air Moons too. But that Moon of yours that's so social & nurtured by communication, ideas, & expression (Gemini) in the 12th speaks so loudly to all you describe - so exactly.
I've found 12th House Moon people to be some of the kindest, most supportive, self-aware, & intuitive people. The compensation for not receiving seems to be a developed capacity for giving (and seeing others) in the ways they too deserve to receive and be held. The bete noir demands much in its solitary confinement, & in return the gifts of imagination and compassion (for others - not as much toward the self) are often profound. Fortunately, astrology can improve with age what arthritis can fuck over. Love your words always. x
Sitting in the laundrette after the pipe burst and we have to wait for the kitchen to dry out a bit before using electricity again. I am still, or maybe even because of it, overcome with a deep sense of gratitude. In a non-bullshit way. It’s all a fucking privilege. Having a car to go to the laundrette which is a mile away, being insured and them delivering an industrial dehumidifier which has already made a huge difference, the fact that the heating wasn’t affected, the rest of the house being unaffected...