You’re Invited

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Gort Community Market January 2018

I don’t have a lot of pictures that aren’t of birds these days, so I thought I’d use one from our latest Gort Community Market day. It was soooo beautiful! Lovely people and great craic as usual. Since it’s winter now, we’ve also added open fires and a little market extension in the cosy back room of Hennelley’s Bar, where people gather around the fireplace and chat. The whole thing is the perfect environment for a cuddly hag.

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I’m now going to write about woman stuff, so if you’re squeamish or don’t want to know about these things, simply skip this and the next two paragraphs. Start reading again below the picture and you’ll find the invitation mentioned in the title. But for now, it’s pussy zone and if you’re still reading, I’m going to assume you’re fine with that.

You see, I haven’t had a period in five weeks and two days. Now, my cycle’s never been all that regular to begin with, but it tends to be below four weeks – something like 26 days – rather than longer. And now I’m fantasising about finally starting menopause and can’t contain my excitement. The time of its onset seems to run in families and my mum as well as my sisters all started perimenopause around this age. All I can think is, please pleeeeeeaaaaase let this be what it is! Yes yes, I know, hot flashes and depression. But they’ll pass, eventually.

The point is, I can’t wait to get rid of this bloody (literally) nuisance every month, and please don’t tell me about my divine femininity now! I’m on board with all that, I honour and welcome it, but I’ve also had a really painful time of my period for the past 20 years or so and I’m so done. I’m looking forward to being just like a guy – being able to run around, go camping, swing swords, and be fully functional instead of curled around a hot water bottle in excrutiating pain every few weeks. So, fingers crossed this is indeed the start of the whole thing getting less and less frequent until it finally stays away. Yay!

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Happy hag in the car

Here’s where you continue reading if you skipped the previous paragraphs. You’ve probably been wondering what invitation I’ve been going on about? The things is, I’ve a hag birthday coming up on the 13th of February, and since next month’s Gort Market is on the 11th, I’ve decided to have a little – or a big – celebration on Saturday the 10th. I’m not sure about the details yet, but it’ll involve good music and dancing and will likely happen either in Gort or Ennis. Soooo, if you’re close enough to visit, and you read this and I’ve forgotten to invite you on Facebook, do get in touch because you’re most certainly invited.

What I’d actually love to do is the 80s disco I’ve been sitting on for years and years. I’ve never DJ-ed before in my life, but I’ve been putting together a playlist. Without repeating a single artist, I’m now at 153 songs and counting. It’s going to be epic – if it happens. Actually, it’s more like when it happens, because I’ll do it one day for sure, it’s just not certain yet whether it’ll happen on my birthday. If it doesn’t, we’ll just go dancing somewhere else. I hope the Gort Market folks will all come, then we can all be tired and hungover the next morning at the market together!

If you’re too far away to make it: Don’t worry. We’ll take lots of incriminating pictures.

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New Year’s Hag

Every year when I wake up on the 1st of January, the first thing I do is to play U2’s “New Year’s Day” at top volume and dance to it. It’s easy to see why I live alone.

But seriously, the song’s got such energy and promise. It’s exactly the way I want to start a year, in motion and breathless and happy, music in every cell of my body! I did it again this year, although I’ve a bit of a fuzzy head and haven’t slept a lot over the past week or so because of my persistent cough.

If you read this and you have any idea why someone who’s normally healthy as a horse and gets the flu about once every decade, can be sick on and off with light flu-light symptoms for 2-3 months, do let me know please. I’d say I’m allergic to something in my house, if the exact same thing hadn’t happened in the last two places I lived in. This is the third year that I’m more or less sick from October to December – in this case, January, because it’s been worse this year and there’s still no end in sight.

It’s getting on my nerves. Like I said, I don’t have much experience of being ill, and I don’t deal well with it. I want to be fit and move and exercise and jump around and be happy. Instead, I’m stuck at home most of the time, feeling tired. It sucks! I try and make the most of it: For example, I decided not to go out on New Year’s Eve but stay at home and raise a mug of hot mulled wine to my loved ones at midnight, which I did, outside my beautiful little cabin, hugged by a beautiful mild wind and with the nearly-full moon above my head.

The moon just after midnight last night

Staying at home has the additional advantage of saving money. I’ve made a pact to pay back the rest of my student loan early (if you’re wondering why I’m still dealing with this in my 40s, it’s because I was exempt for much of my 20s and 30s – long story). It’s a huge commitment and means I’ll be very, very skint until the summer, but then it’ll be done! Right now I need to get people to visit me, rather than the other way around. The occasional trip to Mayo, and East Clare maybe once or twice a month is all I can afford these days.

Feels good to be taking control, though. Last night, I’ve also reviewed my goals for 2017 and set new ones, and with a slight shock I realised that I haven’t really achieved much of what I’d set out to do last year. This is a first, by the way, I usually manage most of the list, sometimes all of it. Thinking back, it’s been a good year anyway, full of people and adventure, so I’m not taking it to heart. It’s been a year of great intentions and not much follow-through but much in terms of experiences and love. In 2018, I’ll try and combine the two.

Whenever I think of what I need to do to get to my goals, I keep coming back to the same thing I coach people about: Prioritise my passions. As long as I let joy guide my decisions and my daily work, I’m going places. It’s not as easy and obvious as it sounds, because it also means that I won’t put undue focus on things like my job. It’s just not a priority, I needed a reminder of that. Something to work on with my own Coach!

Whilst we’re speaking of Coaching: I’m offering a chance to win a free 1-on-1 session worth 149 EUR this week, and it’s exclusive to subscribers of my Monday Sparkles newsletter. If you’re not subscribed yet, goeth forth and do it! If you subscribe by tomorrow (Tuesday), I’ll manually send you today’s newsletter so you can still participate. As with all communications from me, your email address is completely safe.

What else is new? Oh, I had some interesting conversations following the previous article on our ageist attitude. One insight from those is that it’s ageist even when someone tells me: “You don’t look 47 at all!” I know it’s meant as a compliment and I appreciate the good intentions, but it’s basically saying “Gods, you’re old. But hey, you don’t look it, at least.” I maintain that 47, or 57, or 67 aren’t “old”, they’re right in the middle of life when things can still improve.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to descend into another rant. Today, I just wanted to wish you a very Happy New Year and much joy and love in 2018!

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You’re Ageist

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Tits are so tiny, they usually sit *in* the bowl rather than on its edge, much like Dagobert Duck bathing in his gold.

This year, I find myself quite unexpectedly in a festive mood. I think I’ve managed to truly detach myself from the materialistic aspects of “the season” and now I can appreciate all the magic and the true meaning of Advent, the expectation of the returning light. And oh how I crave light. Winter’s darkness can be cosy, yes, but to me it’s mostly oppressive. Solstice morning, the sunrise which proves that light is coming back and the days are starting to get longer, is one of my favourite mornings of the year.

I’ll write more about the year past when it’s time; today, I have something else to talk about. But before I do, I want you to take a moment to admire the fluffy featheriness of the birds at my feeder! I get robins, blue tits, sparrows and the occasional crow. By now, I know the regulars and their habits and favourites, and they’re beginning to lose their fear of me.

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A jackdaw sifting through the snow, after inhaling the cashews I’d put on the steps earlier this morning.

Before I find my stride and keep talking about birds for the rest of this article, I’ll try and arrive at the subject I actually meant to discuss. If you’ve known me for more than five minutes, you will have heard me talk about it before; I’ve written articles about getting older and the wild woman over 40. To paraphrase, I don’t buy the bullshit our society puts out about being “old” when you’re 30, 40, or even 70. It used to be true, but these days we live so much longer and it’s insane to spent 3/4 of our lifetimes feeling old.

The problem is that we’re ageist. I know the title of this article is a little provocative, but the thing is, I’m ageist too. It’s so ingrained in us, we just can’t manage to escape. Although the more progressive and conscious of us have managed to become sensitive of racism, sexism, and all manner of -isms, we’re still raving ageists, and nobody seems to even notice.

Don’t believe it? When’s the last time you’ve said: “Haha, well I’m getting old!” as a joke? I know I have, and quite frequently. We happily divide living people into “generations” as if that were a thing, as if someone born one year is somehow completely different from a person born the next. It’s a lazy way of not engaging with individuals, and realising how amazing they are, and how much we all have in common, from 8 to 108 years old.

Don’t get me wrong, please: This is not about denying that age and differences exist. They do. What we need to do is re-interpret the differences and the changes as we age, as positive, something to be desired rather than be ashamed or afraid of.

People will point out to me so-called proof that ageing is, indeed, an issue. I say: Of course things change, I just refuse to interpret the changes as a. universally bad and b. an inevitable result of getting older. Here are a few examples:

  1. “Joints do get creaky and injuries happen faster.” Yes, they are, but I argue it’s because of use – wear and tear – rather than age. No, it’s not always the same thing. A ballet dancer might have completely ruined their ankles or knees by the time they hit 30. I dance by just jumping around to good music, so I lived to 47 before my knees started protesting earlier this year. The point is, wear and tear is independent of age and it can also be slowed down if we use our bodies wisely and look after them – which we, sadly, don’t do enough but can learn. I’m starting to, slowly.
  2. “Science tells us that cell regeneration slows down with age.” True, but there are many stories of people who made miracle recoveries from things they technically shouldn’t have been able to bounce back from. Medicine can’t explain it, not by a long road. In most cases, recoveries are attributed to attitude and mental strength, so here’s something you don’t even need your body to work on.
  3. “We get grey, wrinkly, and saggy.” So? I’m objectively a lot less attractive than I was at, say, 20, and yet I feel about 400% prettier and sexier than I did back then. Funny, isn’t it? I may be less firm than I used to be, but you know what, so are the guys I fancy these days. No big deal.

My point is, it’s all so bloody subjective, there’s no point trying to tie it down to a number. And if it’s subjective anyway, isn’t it about time we used this to our own advantage? Why don’t we go and define age as marvellous? I’m honestly so much happier than ever. I’ll be 50 in just over two years, and I can’t wait to be 60, 70 and 80. I’ve plans to build up my body and especially my muscles so they can support my joints better. I aim to be in the best shape of my life by the time I hit my 50s.

We’ve expanded our life expectancy, now we have to learn to make something out of it. Otherwise, in the words of a wise person, instead of living longer we simply die longer. And that was never the idea.

All right, I’m hopping off the soap box. Here’s another bird to make you smile:

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If the pictures look blurry, it’s because they were all taken through my – not entirely clean – glass doors.

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Pussified

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It’s my birthday! I woke up with my element this morning, the wind blowing all around the house, and because I have the day off, I stayed cuddled into my bed for a while and sang that lovely Cat Stevens song:

“I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul. …

I let my music take me where my heart wants to go.”

Tonight, I’ll have some very lovely people over for a small birthday gathering, and I’m all a-tingle looking forward to that.To pass the time, I thought I’d look back over the year since my 46th.

Last year, I’d just started feeling again and was sheer drowning in a tidal wave of the sludge that accumulates in a soul which isn’t cleansed and aired and celebrated for years. It was horrible, but necessary. In the 12 months since, I’ve experienced healing, joy, strengthening, and then injury and the associated lessons.

Mostly, the lesson has been that there’s a price to pay for the abuse I’ve put myself through, both in terms of my soul and my body. That I need to take things slowly and be very, very good to myself for a very, very long time in order to fully heal. That’s what I’m doing now. It’s also a lesson in patience, which I’m not exactly famous for possessing!

Today, I focus on how far I’ve come already. My life is so wonderful right now, with just the right kind of people coming into it and the right kind of experiences unfolding! Here are my plans for the coming year. I will:

  • continue the work of re-connecting with old friends and further connecting with the new ones. This will involve some travel, starting in April when I’ll got to Germany for a little longer than usual to see, not only my dad, but also two of my oldest and dearest friends.
  • further heal and strengthen my body. One of my goals is to attend at least two field archery shoots outside my own club’s. I have three years to go to my middle-term goal of being in top shape and looking my best at 50 (and from there, maintain that for at least 25 years, and then see if I can still improve on it!).
  • take my Coaching business to the next level, overcome my fear of visibility and actually do the work. I’m currently creating a program on “Wild Money” which will be launched soon, and if you want to give me a birthday present, it really really helps if you Like my Facebook page and spread the word.
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At the range in Massbrook woods last month

So what’s going on in my life right now? Huge discoveries, actually. I’m once again bowled over at the impact books can have, and how they often tie in with my life. The more open and connected I am, the more I draw books into my life which exactly match the outside world and are exactly what I need to learn at the time.

Number One is the incredible, absolutely revolutionary, making-sense-of-my-life with one, bright illuminating flash of light Pussy – a reclamation by the amazing Regena Thomashauer (Mama Gena). In fact, its impact is so massive that I think I may require every woman I talk to, to have read this book in future (it wouldn’t go amiss if men read it, too). Basically, it connects women’s power back to their actual pussy – yep – and to the principle of pleasure and enjoyment in every part of their lives. Funny, isn’t it, that I’ve just arrived at the conclusion that joy and our passions, that which lights us up, is not a luxury but central to life, and based my Coaching around that?

The other one I haven’t finished yet: The Big Leap by Gay Hendricks. Only just reading the first chapter made the penny drop. It’s without exaggeration the key to all unhappiness and lack of success in the world, on a personal and more global level. Absolutely mind-blowing and yet sooooo simple! After my birthday, I’ll dive in and finish it, and by the gods, will I put this into practice.

And now I’m off to finish a cake! Have a wonderful time, my dear tribe, this is a time of new beginnings and things are germinating all around. It’s a time of hope. Be a part of it.

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What A Year!

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The high plain where I greeted the rising sun on Solstice morning

It’s become fashionable on Social Media to post about how bad a year was when it’s drawing to an end. This year, it’s particularly poignant, with people honing in on worrying political developments and celebrity deaths in 2016.

Granted, some very popular people died this year – David Bowie, Prince, Alan Rickman, now George Michael, to name but a few. But the truth is that people die all the time. For me personally, the recent deaths of well-known people which affected me the most, all happened in 2015: Chris Squire most of all (I won’t write about it now or that’ll be all this entry is about), Terry Pratchett, and Lemmy.

I won’t go into political details here – those who know me, know my views, and this isn’t a news outlet – but the shift to the right in countries like the UK and the US didn’t just happen this year, it only manifested in rather concrete election/referendum results now after building up for years. Most of us didn’t want to believe it would actually get this bad, but the writing on the wall has been there all along.

These things are not what this post is about, though. No, I feel the need to share what 2016 meant for me on a personal level.

To spoil the conclusion: It was an incredible year. A year of re-awakening, of dreams coming true and others beginning to take shape on the horizon. A year of strengthening and growth, of ecstasy, joy, and passion. Of starry-eyedness and good sex and just the right dose of drama and hurt as well.

It was the year when I allowed myself to feel again.

At the end of each year, I review the goals I set on New Year’s Eve the previous year. I did that the other day and apart from one area (where I consciously chose to put a goal on hold for another while), I’ve reached every single goal. Some of them I completely blew out of the water. Life has a way of bowling me over, it just loves doing that. It’s part of our ongoing romance, and what keeps me hooked in a way I’ve never been permanently hooked by a human partner.

Here’s my review:

January

I started this year writing. My story was what brought me back to feeling my emotions. It was an intense and often sad time, but such a relief to be FEELING again. I’m proud to have finished the story (it’s the length of a novel), and it means the world to me.

February

The focus was my health, mainly by finding more foods I love and which are good for me, and beginning to strengthen my body. It was slow going but I stuck with it and saw some progress eventually.

March

This is when I started reaching out to what has become my archery club and my swordfighting club. In the last days of March, I started archery again and bought my bow. Almost instantly, I couldn’t believe I’d ever lived without shooting.

April

Finally started the longsword beginners’ course. Also participated in the Mayo Archery Club’s shoot after only two weeks of training, which was my first visit to Massbrook Woods, my favourite place in the whole world. So much happiness!

May

Life just kept unfolding like a fairytale. I reconnected with old friends and made new ones. The uncontested highlight of the month was an enchanted weekend in London with my wonderful Inga.

June

Midsummer, new friends, a beautiful affair, all senses a-tingle. Love, love, love. More archery and swordfighting, too, and those luminous nights full of promise.

July

Finally, finally got my tattoo, went to the club’s tournament weekend in Clare and met the rest of the absolutely loveable people there. I felt like a sponge soaking up all the human connections that month, together with good music, ecstatic dancing, and more archery and swordfighting.

August

More re-connection with old friends, lots of love and some sexiness as well. I also looked for a new place to live and said good-bye to Mayo. And I broke my rib, which was a huge challenge as it prevented me from honouring that kinetic energy of mine.

September

Moved to Gort, with Inga over here to visit, feeling incredibly right about it in spite of leaving behind Mayo. Otherwise, challenges began to pile up: my rib was healing but I injured my forearm and the resulting tendonitis still plagues me to this day.

October

An echo of the state of withdrawal I’d been in before this year, which I fought but couldn’t quite escape for a while. At the same time, I still met new people around here and managed to keep up at least a minimum of physical exercise.

November

A fairly dark month. Struggling with the tendonitis and a general absence of wellness, whole-ness, which I tried to numb – the worst thing I could have done, really! I didn’t even go to Mayo for archery practice.

December

Back in bliss. It’s been a month of renewed feeling and a demonstration of how much has changed this year. I’m getting out, I’m doing the things I love (with the exception of swordfighting right now, but I’ll get that back!) and I get to spend time with friends.

And here I am. The solstice was a celebration of love and gratitude for 2016. I was off work on Solstice Eve and made the rounds of friends’ houses, dispensing hugs and (healthy) cookies, and then I went home to decorate the tree and have my ritual. As usual, I took the Christmas days for myself to close off the year and prepare for 2017, and now I’m looking forward to actually getting there!

This entry has become long already, so I’ll write about my plans next time. Until then, I hope you’re having the holidays you dreamed of and wish you a lovely start into 2017.

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My Big “Secret”?

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I spent most of Sunday by the coast in wonderful company. Even my hayfever behaved  this close to the sea!

I’ve made a funny observation. When things are dramatic and heavy, there’s usually no lack of conversation – people will leave comments on my blog post and really step up to help me. But when I post that I’m happy out, there’s often nothing at all, or very little.

I adore my tribe for being so incredibly supportive – you guys are zee best – but at the same time I think, shouldn’t we be talking MORE about happiness? Share the bliss, add our own, or simply bask a little in the warmth of another if our own is lacking at the moment (as mine has done plenty of times…)?

I’m writing this partly because I expect to be posting a lot of happy entries yet. Right now I’m probably the happiest I’ve been; my life is exactly how I want it, and my only challenge is to keep finding goals to strive for lest I get complacent. And when I look back to where I was only five months ago, I’m in awe and so deeply grateful I want to drop to my knees and kiss the ground that carries me.

People have asked me how I managed to pull myself out of depression, being sick and constantly exhausted as well as slightly overweight, to being active and healthy and blissfully happy within four months or so. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really know the answer, or whether there even is just one answer. I believe it may be a combination of several things:

1. Not pushing myself. I started off so gently, I just know the majority of people would scoff if they could see it, and tell me that’s no way to get in shape. Most days I did about five minutes of gentle Yoga stretches (from http://www.gaia.com – they rock!), as I couldn’t keep up even moderate exercise for any amount of time. Many days I didn’t do anything, as I was too tired.

And thus, bit by bit, I clawed my way back, and in such a short time it still astonishes me, I was doing half-hour aerobics workouts and short but intense Yoga sessions of 15-25 minutes, as well as intense dance sessions. Then came archery, and then the swordfighting, and by now I’m happy to push myself because my body can take it. I have a loooooong way to go yet, but the worst is behind me – now that I’m “in motion”, nothing will stop me. I went from never wanting to get up off my chair, to someone who has real problems sitting down for any length of time. Yes, four months.

2. Food. I’ve left behind all “should”s and “must”s and the warring factions of food ideology and radically follow what my body tells me. One piece of advice I did implement was the statement that we only need about 1/3 of the calories most people consume, and I find that it’s doing me incredibly good to eat far less. This is not about starving myself, mind you – especially with physical activity, it’s important to nourish the body, so the key is to consume foods with a high nutritional density.

I’m nowhere near perfect, I believe food is a sensual pleasure and should be enjoyed, and I do still eat greasy chips or pizza. But I’ve made an interesting observation: Junk food makes me tired to the point of dropping off to sleep, almost instantly. And I’d rather feel bouncy and full of energy, so I listen to my body and mostly eat stuff that makes me feel great. Mostly – again, I don’t strive for perfection.

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In practice, this works out at about 85% vegan food which I love most of all. The sheer explosion of flavour of an organic carrot with hoummous, oh my… and Magic Mayan Chocolate… yum! I mostly avoid wheat and rye because they tend to upset my gut, but I do eat them sometimes. About 15% of my diet is dairy and eggs (about once or twice a week), and about 5% meat (once or twice a month). I feel wonderful and have lost ALL the weight I’d put on since 2010, without effort – and now my body naturally maintains the weight. I like it, and I’ll keep it up for as long as it keeps making me feel so good.

3. Theta waves. I can’t explain how it works, but I know there is some science behind it. Theta waves can’t actually be perceived by the human ear, so people have created “binaural beat” tracks, so the Theta waves are created in the space between. Or something, haha. The point is, I’d heard they “re-arrange” your brain and since I’ll try anything, I looked up a track on YouTube and have been listening to a good hour of Theta Waves per day since.

A few days after starting this, the veil lifted and my happiness came through. It was just like the clouds breaking up and letting the sunshine through… exactly like it, in fact. I felt so light I wanted to laugh and sing all day. That’s when I started feeling my emotions again, in January, and with the happiness came a lot of heavy shit at first – there’s no light without shadow – but by now, the light outweighs the shadow by far, far, far, and I credit the Theta Waves for most of this.

This is the track I listen to every day, with headphones (apparently this works only with headphones). If you’d prefer the pure Binaural Beat without music around it, try this one instead.

4. Radically doing what I want. I started by writing a novel-length story, just for myself. Creative work is so therapeutic! I’m also doing a whole lot of nothing at all. I have given myself so much leeway lately. I’ve been slacking on re-launching my Coaching business (getting going now, in fact – finally!) and I refuse to feel guilty about it. I’ve always needed a lot of time and space to process my emotions, and there are a lot of emotions going around at the moment! I welcome all of it, it’s such bliss to feeeeeeeeeel! And yes, I get put through the wringer at times. It’s all good.

Every day, I consciously radiate love to everyone I know, and I make a point of reaching out to people in my life. I’ve been withdrawn for so long, I still need to remind myself sometimes! I have this vision of bathing all the world including myself in love and affection, and appreciation. It’s a state of constant bliss.

When I feel my vibration lowering, I usually do something physical, dancing mostly, or shooting my bow, or swinging around my sword or axe. Twenty minutes later, I’m back in bliss. It really is that simple.

 

All right, this has become very long – I hope it wasn’t too boring to read! Midsummer is almost here, and I’m going to write about that too, but in the next entry. The energy is incredible right now, a Waxing Moon which is going to be full right on Solstice Day (Monday), and in spite of hayfever I’ve managed to spend some time outdoors lately.

Sending you all so much love!

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Luminosity And A Delicate Subject

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We have now entered what I refer to as “The Luminous Weeks”, the time from ca. four weeks before the Summer Solstice to four weeks after. I’m nowhere near the polar circle, obviously, but the length of the days is still very noticeable. When I turn off the light in the budgies’ room and go downstairs around ten, it’s still bright enough to see without much problem, and in the mornings I wake up at five and think it must be eight. It’s not doing my sleep any favours – I’m far too happy to go back to sleep once I’m awake – but I love love love every minute of it.

Or at least, I will until my hayfever sets in around the Solstice. Then I’ll spend six weeks groggy and grumpy, with a swollen face and looking like my own grandmother. Not exactly looking forward to that.

I have something to share with ye today, which I’ve been a little reluctant to talk about. I first shared it in the Village – thanks guys, for “proof-reading” it for me – and now here’s a slightly extended version of it. It might even go into my articles list. I titled it “The Wild Woman Over 40”! Here goes.

Advance warning: This post may turn out to be a little rambling. It’s a subject I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. As well, there has been tons written about it by far wiser people, so I’m aware I’m standing on the shoulders of giants here.

It’s about the perception of women in our society, but I don’t mean to make this a feminist rant. What I want to write about concerns me personally.

You see, I find – to my amusement – that society as a whole just doesn’t know what to make of me. To an extent, they never have, but as long as I was “young”, it was a little more accepted to live as I do. They could still put me into the “wild years” category. A young woman is allowed, to a certain extent and at least by more liberal minds, to live out her desires including her sexuality.

But what on earth should the world do with a woman in her mid fourties who is a. single, b. sexually active, and c. picky?? As well as being childless, if I may add.

I see this in almost everyone I meet, with very few exceptions. The first assumption is usually that I “just can’t get a feller to settle down with”. When they begin to realise that’s not quite it, they are confused (or they think I must have been “hurt”. I mean, yes I have, I doubt there’s anyone over the age of 15 who hasn’t been hurt in love, but I have no bitterness and I adore men). 

I think it’s to do with restrictive notions of how women are “supposed to be”, and considering how long feminism has been around, that’s astonishing. It’s the same reason why women seem to disappear from Hollywood movies once they hit middle age (except in very specific roles, usually as comic relief, or the “frustrated housewife” or similar). Yes, I know there are exceptions, but that’s what they are – exceptions, and far far fewer than the men of equal age.

Basically, a woman my age should be married / in a relationship, or a sad case. Since I am neither, the people I meet are at a loss. 

All my life, I’ve been used to being the weird one in the way I approach the whole subject of love (I wrote about this in the last paragraphs of my previous post). It’s hard for people to understand how I can love someone and not necessarily want a relationship, but this is just part of what I do: I adore people, I get starry-eyed about them, and I love them. In the case of a gorgeous man, this may include sex and last anything from a few nights or weeks to years. The entire construct of a “relationship” often just gets in the way of this (though not always; it does fit me at times). It’s a wild-woman thing.

I’ve ALWAYS had problems explaining this approach to people, but the way people don’t know how to react to me at all, has got a lot more pronounced over the last ten years or so.

Again, this isn’t a “problem” as such, it amuses me more than anything else, although it can get a little tiring. I’ve been fortunate to always know a few people who were above such idiotic ideas, and if the world has a problem with me, then that’s the world’s problem – I’m far too busy being happy! It’s just puzzling to me, and fascinating, how little has really changed in perceptions.

I own my age, my body, my intense-as-ever emotions (highly sensitive…), and my sexuality. Sorry, world. Not!

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