Thoughts of a Soo

Singing as the darkness lifts 30/10/2023 This morning the air smells of leaves again, and I am wondering what the moon would smell of. The moon wears a thin circular blanket of cloud before revealing its subtle waning in a blue sky. There has been much tea drinking, feasting, conversation and laughter in the past couple of weeks. Time taken to step into the world and connect with friends. There has been magic in the moments with the tea pot with the googly eyes, the cups with no saucers and the afternoon tea enjoyed while we listened to a trio play. I loved that afternoon tea because it was a gift to Kath from a very good friend of hers and they included me in the magic too; it was like being transported into another world where we were wrapped in music. When I recounted to my brother the things I have done since starting this blog and my new relationship with Mondays, we decided that my stating I had done things it would have taken me a decade to do was an exaggeration, but th

Singing as the darkness lifts 23/10/2023 The morning smells of cold stone, and opening the sash window of a hotel room to discover this, set off the alarm call of two different blackbirds. Many steps have been slow and steady this week after it began with a funeral to say goodbye to a lovely person. I found such a gentle poignancy in the way she wrote the service herself in order to help her family and in the vicar saying, “Once a teacher always a teacher”. In the morning before going to the church there was a wonderful echo in my head of the sparkle of her laughter which made me smile. Here’s to finding comfort in the way people teach us to be better versions of ourselves by being themselves with us. I am learning to seize the moment when something feels particularly stretchy for me and this week’s thing was the thought of writing a five thousand word essay. I had in fact written a very rough splurge of ideas that amounted to half of this amount when I knew an

Singing as the darkness lifts 16/10/2023   This morning I cannot determine what the outside world smells of. The air is cold and the stars that are still in the sky are blurred by clouds. When I step back inside the house it seems to smell of toast even though there has been no toast this morning.   So much has happened since the last time I blogged. I completed the second part of my coaching course with ‘In Good Company’ which took me to the halfway mark for the taught element. This felt like a real milestone to me and there was a wonderful feeling of pride when I could see how far I had come and how much I was learning.   I have learned a lot about myself since starting this blog in September and I have much to thank the course for when it comes to this. One of my key thinkings is that if I am going to be a great coach, then I should be able to coach myself when I am stuck. By working through the thoughts and feelings and the gap between my goal and my present state I ha

Singing as the darkness lifts 09/10/2023 Last night I predicted that the morning’s air would smell like mint and when I opened the front door it did! A sunny weekend had spurred me on to catch up in the garden. First, I cut back the herbs in my next-door neighbour’s garden and then I tackled the mint border in ours. We had put the mint in to slow down the ground elder which it had done to a reasonable degree, but I guess I now need to keep on top of the mint. There was a lot of it and knowing that the garden waste bins were pretty full to the brim I sensed they would scent the air. A single crow called from a distance away and my eyes began to see the world a little more clearly. I must have had strange dreams last night as I was unsettled at first this morning and I took a while to unbleary myself. I am grateful to that crow for that familiar call to wake up.   On Thursday it was my first National Poetry Day not in a school. The day coincided with my second ‘Meet the Maker’ se

Singing as the darkness lifts 02/10/2023 The sky held gentle cloud around a waning moon this morning. The light of a planet or star shone underneath and the air had an element of oak riding on it. There were small birds singing from the full 360 degrees before the jackdaw sounded. The week included necessary appointments for flu jab and eye test – new reading glasses soon. There was soup made and shared with a friend and that gentle conversation that comes with being known. At the third myth poetry workshop with Anna Saunders the group shared a poem each and I was able to air ‘There’s a Doll Thumping in My Chest’. I am thinking that this will be my opener for my forthcoming reading at Gloucester and this poem will always have a special place in my heart because of its very origin. Matthew and Rhona and my diction and laughter ignited that spark. I don’t think I will give it out to people on National Poetry Day on Thursday though, that might call for a less dark poem. My p