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Show Time! (Episode 34)

Singing as the Darkness Lifts, Episode 34

Show Time!

PodBean Link for those who like to listen.


This morning the air smells of yellow-flowered Spring. The moon has been full this week and I went out to walk under it in the middle of the week, but somehow missed its rising. It felt good though to be remembering the joy of walking under a full moon and all those moons I stood under and wrote poems for in 2022.

 

Alt text says this week’s photo is “a red scarf in the air”. I say it is Petulia, a shawl designed by my wonderful wife that we took for a fly before travelling to Wonderwool Wales to exhibit it as one of her designs. I also say it looks as though it is dancing freely against a bright blue sky.

 

There’s something exciting about greeting each other with “Show Time!” at a yarn show as the gates open and the customers stream in. So much has to happen before then... pack the cars to the brim, travel, unload, set up, flop into bed, tweak the dispay the next day...and then we are ready for the show to begin.

 

There is real joy in talking to people for whole days at a time, that I don’t think I had ever really considered before becoming involved in yarn shows. So many different conversations can happen because there are so many different people, and I am there for them all. This time I only had two yarn related questions that stumped me so I must have learned quite a bit along the way. There were also lovely conversations with people about poetry and I met a lovely person called Ali who made my day with her interest in my writing. I also thoroughly enjoyed talking about ‘Gnarly Roots’, the new cowl pattern that Kath has designed, and my modelling of the forthcoming ‘Sugar Loaf’ cardigan. Show Time was Good Time.

 

There has been much joy in written words this week too: I received a wonderful compliment about my new book, a great testimonial for my coaching, and a super thank you for some writing I had done. These are all nicely balancing in the world.

 

There has also been the thinking out loud of supervision as part of my coaching work. There is much to reflect on when developing a new skill and I love the kind of deep learning that comes by being part of a supervision group.  It is good to do thinking from different angles, and I also revisited Brené Brown’s work this week and remembered the power of “the story I am telling myself is”. This can be really helpful to me when I start to feel myself overthinking.

 

So all in all, this whole week has felt new because I have done many things that I did not imagine that I would be doing a year ago. I knew I would be doing something different, but there was only a hazy view beyond the vivid need to pause what I had been doing for years. And perhaps foggy is a better word. It felt good to be pressing the stop button and changing direction, but definitely scary too. So here’s to formulating plans and trusting in the vision and taking those steady steps along different paths. The view is good and it feels rather like walking a coastline because there’s something different around each corner. Fond memories here of Guernsey walks where being on the edge is freeing and the view changes and delights along the way.

 

It seems apt to select a poem from my ’14 Lines’ project from my MA at this point. It’s called ‘Fermain Bay’, and my lovely friend Julie read this for me at the actual spot and sent me the video. The purpose of the project was for me to develop my confidence in sharing my poems and to compare my readings with those of wonderful people who supported me in this. It was a good project and when I read my new poems in real life to launch ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’ I will take a moment to remember just how far I have come with determination and excellent cheering on from lovely people.

 

Later today I will be at a different coast and will see the sea at Llandudno, but first here’s the poem:

 

Fermain Bay

 

Layered in the water among the blues,

mixed with dense pine green,

there is a deeper turquoise

than we even wished for.

Streaked with the purple of pansies

it tempts us from the cliff top path –

says, paint me.

But first we must go and float and swim there.

 

Our land-life is made real as, sun warmed,

we sit on the stone wall to dry.

Salt has painted our lips,

hairs are tightening on our arms,

and time is marked only

by the rhythm of waves.

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