Dear Confidence, Where did you go?

Old words, strangers to me now, an afternoon tinkering, sheer joy of word play, how they sound together, Dear confidence... you need Bodyfulness

This off the cuff post, this old free verse/prose-poem-strange-tangled-thing below, is seeing the light of day inspired by a coffee I had with a new friend. We sat there, a day off, in the young March sun, glorious fresh rays bringing the first of the year’s warmth, we sat there, heat on our winter skin, eager to connect, between ocean and green fields, the caramel herd to our right, the ever-so quiet sea to our left, all that water before us, free and somehow contained by dots of rocky outcrops, seemingly floating at mid-tide, black peaks in the sea, the sea, all of it, just sitting there, barely making a sound. Ridiculous turquoise water that shocks the eyes every time. Always a pheasant near by, laughing at itself for how stupid it looks when it flies. Robins, wrens and blackbirds, all on the beach, flicking through the debris. Further out, the fat gulls and the sleek black of the cormorant, long neck diving, fishing, always fishing, alone and focused, so bloody focused, smelling god only knows what? Smells I’ll never find. We enjoyed hot coffee and peace and good conversation. Minds alike, refreshed and happy to have found each other.

We talked of many things, how we came, all the way from Uni, around the world, through boyfriends and into marriages and motherhood to this remote life in the ocean. It was good to listen and good to be heard. I told her I feel a terrible shame and guilt for not having published a Substack for two and a half months. I am embarrassed because I have six people who have parted with their money to support me and I can’t get my head straight to come up with the goods. She reassured me that people would not mind at all and just want to support you. She was concerned that Substack gets some of the money. No they do not. Anyway, I have four newsletters I’ve written, growing bored in the queue in my mind; I’ve over-thought and tied myself in knots. So, because I am training two new gardeners and I have talked myself dry and into a pit of exhaustion, instead of recent stuff, here is something three years old I have spent the afternoon tinkering with. I cannot remember writing it. I think James had not been gone long, a year at most. (I know what’s wrong - another anniversary looming, four years on the 25th March. The pressure builds, another year gone, another year ahead. But we get through. Because life takes us on and on.)

I don’t know what to make of this and who knows what you will make of it. But then again, what does it matter? What does anything really matter? And if you can’t be bothered to read it and you see me in the pub, just lie and say, I read it, Jess, it was great. Honestly, what does it matter. I do it because I don’t know how else to feel alive. Life doesn’t make sense, and of course, I fear one day I’ll sit back and ask, why the hell did I waste all that time trying to make sense of something that is completely unfathomable. Maybe there is two types of life. A thinking one and a living one. Time to move out of the head and just go for it.

I Want Bodyfulness

What is this mindfulness thing?

They say I need it

But my mind makes nothing full

only tears me to pieces

No. I don’t think I want it

I’m telling you, I am full - up - here in my head,

all over the place

I AM FULL.

I’ve seen and said and heard too much

I’ve loved too much, and too little

I’ve been loved too much, and too little

it’s all been so hard, and I am tired now

So, you see

I don’t think I want mind-fullness

It’s my body that needs filling up. Because

you see – I am in pieces

fractured bones are hollow

limbs are weak, slow

the neck is not a barrier

A divide or a line drawn

It is an open gate

A burst dam, a waterfall, an inlet, an outlet

I need to move back in - it’s no good

I am moving back in, coming down from up here where it pours and pours

from fizzing wires and ends of nerves where shock goes bang

all night long

and it lands, of course - back of throat

Mouth like a deep pool, catching contents of clouds

And my jaw is sore and, OH SHUT UP, for crying out loud, we’re leaving this place, going south… we are not missing out on anything

Beyond the neck, where all rivers run to my heart, I’m blindfolded now and I just know that joy is there, hiding in the pits and caves

I want to live in my fingers, feel them reaching out for you

Softly making their way

Curious…

Are you there? Can you stand to be there for me?

Stay a while. We don’t need entertainment

But I lost you again, eyes down, scrolling, bright lights caught you

and I can’t help thinking

Are we getting it all wrong? This one precious life

I’ve made myself cry now, because, bloody hell, what a shame that would be

The dog looks at me, like I am out of my fucking mind. SIT DOWN, he begs

Searching, I ask, what does it feel like to have this skin, all over me?

What does it feel like to have fingers, thumbs?

What does air feel like?

On my lips

cool as it goes in

warm as it leaves me, (I’m giving back to the earth, giving my warmth)

I want the loudness of love to sing in my lungs

Deafening the silent scream

Do you know, This is BODYFULNESS?

I want to feel my heart beating in my scalp,

and in my little toe

Neglect has gone on too long. My little toe may as well have been cut off.

I yell and yell, I am back, little toe, I am back, I won’t leave again, I promise

I want to look in the mirror and feel a smile spreading across my chest

I want to operate from my gut, (operate? Clunky, mechanical? Medical? Don’t overthink it)

I’ll know what my core is needing, get out there and do some weeding

Feeling thoughts inside my belly, listen out, rest now

Find a blanket, lie on the grass in the sun

Back down flat, legs up and wide

in the air, shoulders on the ground

spine aligned, supine,

gravity in charge, holding me

muscles soft on bones

Mother Earth will welcome me home

Back to my body - This is Bodyfulness

I will have my nose in the air, sniffing you out,

leading the way

I’ll smell myself… I’ll know I’m ready

I’ll sense perfect timing, falling through me

I will know that blood flows through me

What does it feel like to have ears? If I make myself clear

Birds and bees trying to tell me

my lover will wake in the dark

he’ll sniff me out

Smelling my thighs saying, make love to me

I want Bodyfullness

I’ll make room for my meridians to sing, to swim laps of me

I’ll dive in, put my head in the deep end and let myself drown, sink, rise and float

to be quiet and empty of rants and chats

What about my opinion?

SHUSH

I want to hear my skin saying, I am thirsty

I want to run my hands around my eyes

and feel my hands feeling me

I am here, back in my body,

I want BODY FULLNESS

I want my lower back to push my bottom down

Avoiding town, stay here,

Hear it loud and clear, saying, you don’t have to say say anything

In my centre

where the low hum of blood nourishes

Where the heart of me softly drums a beat

Your pulse is loud and yet you can’t hear it

Back in MY BODY

My diaphragm can sense a whisper

This is the calm call of the breath

the touch of air as it passes by

If I am still –

I will feel that soft space

The warm hollow

where I’m holding on

the small smooth pit of my arms, where the heat of me is free,

tucked beside my ribcage, pulling me down

This is Body-fullness

Full of love for my-selfness

Content with this very very exact preciseness

A millionth of second – a moment I can balance on a strand of my hair

With eyes fixed on a single star, iridescent

in the off and away of not near, here is space so so far

Here, not now-ish but here__, between the needy e … and the comma

not in the nowness of now but in the n of the now

not a few deep breaths this half hour, or this minute

but this tiny sip of air you take –

fractions of milligrams of oxygen

Particles, ancient, well-travelled, time travelled, pulled in, in, in, free to a good home

find a resting place, they sit inside your cells

Feeding you

Take in a sip, taste the air

Take in ten sips

in one inhale

There –

Can you feel it?

Breathe it right in, into your breasts

Can you feel it in your nipples? In your over-giving self

Breathe into your SELF, into

the small creature waiting in your chest

Scratching to get out, to find more love no doubt

Breathe into the butterfly in your belly

Slow its wings, and notice

the pattern on its wings, colours, pure fragility

Seconds, 1, 2, 3, like downward dog and child’s pose, they can stretch out

And you become full

Not full-ish, not in an ish of a moment

But in this unblinking of an eye, NOW

the earth holds you

as your fingertips try to tell you something…

This is Bodyfulness.

And I want it.