As much as I possibly can
It's all about propulsion, and forward motion, and not letting too much detritus build up around the edges. That's all, really, this odd new life I'm living. As long as I keep moving the energy seems to flow and everything feels fine. Downtime feels like an impossibility but that's a ridiculous thought because my last weekend consisted of:
- The beach (twice- two gorgeous afternoons at the Women's Baths),
- A very fine party
- A concert (Coco Rosie who made amazingly beautiful music, and inspired this huge sense of love for a world where those sounds can exist together in space let alone be created out of two mouths side by side on stage),
- Markets, on a beautiful sunny hung-over Sunday,
- The pub up the road from the markets that very same Sunday, and even
So not so much downtime but it's not like I'm labouring grimly away at anything. It's all good, and astoundingly more relaxing than it's been in a long time, despite the huge amounts of energy I feel like I need to pour into my new house and new space to keep the concepts viable. Despite this sickness that is still rattling around disconcertingly in my lungs (I tried to resist coughing during meditation at yoga this morning and that was the most ridiculously, explosively pointless exercise ever).
I've been to the Women's Baths at low tide twice recently and fallen in love all over again with the inter-tidal zones, the sometimes-exposed rock platforms full of bright rock-star-fish and punk sea urchins and herds of calmly grazing crabs (have you ever heard the clicking of crab mouth parts when dozens and dozens of them are feeding at once, pincer-to-mouth, across the seaweedy rocks?). We are having a brief summer-like interlude to make up for the joke of a season just gone and I'm trying to grab it in both hands, as much as I possibly can.