A gentle day today despite the high winds outside and the occasional downpour. The light was gloomy, suddenly deciding to brighten up for a moment as twilight fell. We have noticed how much longer it has remained lighter as each day comes. Tonight it was getting dark at 5.20pm. I always think of February as gloomy - but this year the sun has shined too - even a rainbow the other day. I must go on a snowdrop hunt.
I have slept and spent time in the Wilderness place. No Art Therapy today, I think the therapist may still be off and I was knackered anyway. I am surprised how restful being in an empty, open landscape is. Imagination is a wonderful device; a beautiful plaything.
Over the years my preferred 'safe places' in my head began with a Cindy doll house as a tiny child made by me from cardboard boxes and tissues. It graduated when I learnt to read to a book filled room with a fire and a cosy sofa or chair. That image lasted for years until it stopped feeling quite so safe when words became of professional interest and I had a bookful of rooms and a room full of books.
I went to sea shores - but now I live by one - so that is not safe in the relaxing, imaginative, mindful sense - like all places we make our inner home in, this has become my lived reality - not a special, inner space.
I then did a visualisation about a space in the centre of a large tree - and it didn't work for me for long - I was really quite ill when the therapist facilitated this - and I was convinced I was hurting a living thing by my presence - so left. (Apparently not a terribly conventional response!)
I've imagined little wooden huts in trees and now, for the first time an entirely open space.
I have lay in the sun today in my visualisation for a short time (as I look like a lobster after about 10 minutes no matter what factor I put on). I had my multi-coloured sunhat on, my favourite trousers and shirt and some thick sunglasses. I can see nothing in bright light. I was surprised how safe I felt not seeing, in the open and with the sun beating down - not too hot - warming and soothing like a bath. I made sand angels with my arms and legs. (I am supposed to exercise my shoulder which has seized up since my accident in June.) It was a sand angel with a wonky wing to one side - but we all have to start somewhere.
In my visualisation Jesus is about and the silence is companionable. He enjoys making patterns in the sand and arranging pebbles - very zen and very beautiful - but nothing stays - it's persistently, but gently adapted and changed before my eyes, developed and brushed out with a leafy branch from a nearby bush. We drink together at a small pool. I wait in his shadow until he has finished and moved a little away. He leads me from the shadow back into the full light. We sit and shut our eyes and think for a while. I wander off and sleep off the heat of the day in the coolness of a cave. It is all so simple. He has even admired my sand angel. Just a smile when I suspect he thought I was sleeping - but I knew - it only took his smile.
Thought:
This day many share in the pain of not knowing or even understanding themselves,
Provide the cave to cool the anguished soul,
Water to cleanse the rawness of a broken spirit,
A Playful moment to enrich all that is perceived as bleak or unmanageable.
In the name of one who came to teach and bring life,
Amen.
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