Songs from the seagulls.

18 Jul 2016
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I've been incredibly low. Inexplicably. Well, ok, I think I know why. I thoroughly burnt myself out over the last couple of months and I'm now left with shards of me. This time has felt harder than others and I don't understand why. After all I have been here before. And before that. And again, before that.

I have refused to give in. I ache to give in. I don't have the opportunity to give in and that is my saviour. Today, at the beach with my children, it was empty, drizzly, but with a warm wind. The rain subsided and on the walk back I watched my youngest daughter. She is on the brink of changing into an adult but really still a child. Often swamped with inadequacy of appearance, and the pressure of conformity amongst her peers and today carefree in wellies with wild spirit hair.

It was just enough to be a reminder to me to stick to simple things. Not to over complicate. Not to be more than me. The lesson was that the best part is when life is allowed to bleed out like watercolour paint on paper. Not to harness and control and measure but to become pliable.

We leave our 3 day beach break tomorrow and I hope to take this with me.

Love from

The room above the garage.

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