A revelation, an egg and a horse

I had my almost-last coaching session today. And another big decision I am mulling over, to discuss. As usual, I threw thousands of pieces into the air; we caught some as they fell, let others fall to the floor, and in the course of our throwing and catching I ended up with a golden crown in the palm of my hand, as I so often do. 

I have some mantras for this year. Quelle surprise! One is about continuing the letting go of stuff that saps my energy and does not serve me. I made huge strides forward with this over Christmas, in deciding not to spend the big day in awkward discomfort with my Ex. Much better for both us that we get on with our lives now without dancing around one another in the form of a fictitious friendship.

Another mantra, about making the most of myself. Setting my bar high. Not being apologetic about who I am. And not gluing myself to people who are likely to let me down or end up relying on me in a way that isn’t good for either of us. 

And one about really working out what I want. I’m pretty good at clarifying what I don’t want (eventually), but proactively thinking through what I do, in detail - now that’s another kettle of fish. And if you’re not clear on what you want, at home or at work, how can you make it happen? Rock on the planning session I have in mind for the next new moon! 

Truth be told, I am still feeling really, I don’t know, like I’m ‘in recovery’. From everything life has thrown at me in the last however-long. Very ‘First World’ I know, but I have done my share of swash-buckling, and taking time out from work was acknowledgement of the rest I knew I needed.

Nearly four weeks of kids at home over Christmas has, however, blown quite a hole in my three months off work, and the me-time I’ve been creating. We also had an unexpectedly white Christmas, with the plasterers working on my roof up until the eleventh hour (or the 12th night or whatever it was), which left me with an awful lot of last-minute cleaning to do before my guests arrived. I think my tree spent longer propped up against the garden wall than it did in the house. Then I got a cold. 

So - back to my coaching session and there we were, catching snowflakes and hurling fir cones, and it was vital and stimulating and fun, and I knew we were getting somewhere - when my coach asked, ‘Where is your energy? What’s it doing?’. 

‘My Phoenix is keeping it alive,’ I said. And as I said this, I realised that she is. Keeping my flames alive; fostering them, like a precious egg, because my cup is not running over, at the moment. 

And then that caravan sprang into my mind! The one in the picture she showed me, a season ago. That I have been dwelling on, since. Wondering what it meant, and why it resonated so much. 

It’s my caravan, I realised. And I’m in it. It’s in a field, by a path. Quiet. Colourful, if a bit faded, on the outside, but dark and dusty within. There’s a mat and blanket on the bench, and maybe a candle. Because that’s all I need. Because I am resting. Keeping that egg warm. Re-fuelling in the half-light.

And as I looked at my caravan, in my mind’s eye, I felt this incredible sense of safety and abundance. And as my gaze broadened, I noticed a horse grazing, near the wagon, in the field. Something else hit me between the eyes: I’m on a journey. An adventure. There’s a good way yet to travel. This is just an almighty great pit stop. And right now, I’m really good, right where I am, in my caravan. And that’s ok. In fact, it’s more than ok. It’s great! It’s where I need to be. It’s where I want to be.

(And there are no post-its on the walls.)

You may guess what the decision I have to make, is. And you may like to hazard a guess as to which way it will go.