A busy bee kind of woman
For the last few days my phone has rarely left my hand. I jot down notes during breakfast and rock my toddler to sleep while touring building sites. I am flushed with creative energy. As I feel it bubble up, in my mind I dutifully trot out the familiar litany: calm down, do less, simplify.
I have long-labored under the misconception that because I tend to my spirit, and believe in things unseen, I should be a floaty, dreamy sort of person, correctly attired in swirling skirts and silver chains. I should bring warmth and peace to the world by fluttering gently from bloom to bloom, staying pretty all the while. Have I ever succeeded in being this person? I’m not sure I have, but the belief that I ought to has hung like a stone around my neck.
Who am I really? I’m working hard, at things that I love. And while I dig and draw and paint and dream and grow, I don’t float around, nor do I keep my home beautiful and neat. I ponder long and hard how to be the best parent I can, and respect and marvel at my daughter’s independence, audacity and kindness, but I’m not the perfect mom. On a weekday I can barely manage an hour of carpet play before my mind wanders and my skin crawls. I might be a rubbish employee. I am a creator; I am a nurturer. Right now I have more projects on the go than I can remember in a moment. It’s busy and it’s full and I love it. It’s who I am. I am not a butterfly drifting on the breeze. I am a busy bee. I am messy, and occasionally unreliable, and I have a very, very short attention span. I am drawn to color and growth; I move far and wide. I feel deeply, and move swiftly, and can pull off in a matter of minutes what takes other hours. I make spaces for others to grow. It has taken me decades to accept that this is what I am, to stop only seeing the things that I’ve left undone. I have a hand in three different businesses, I’m a stay-at-home mom, I’m an employee of an overseas business, the wife of a farmer, of an artist, I’m a terrible gardener and a sporadic baker. Hardly anyone I know actually understands what I do for a living, but I finally, actually, don’t care. I understand me and that’s no small deal.
In the midst of this busy season I visited Colleen at the Midlands House of Healing for my monthly refresher. By the time the end of each month rolls around I am rarely in perfect balance. There is usually some aspect of self, physical or feminine, masculine or mental, that I have neglected. It is an unavoidable element of living vividly in the world that we will quite regularly get worn out. Through trial and error I have realized to pull myself back from the edge I need ritual and I need support. This is how my visits to Colleen fit into my life. I walked into her home last week ready to be scolded. A part of me always believes that I should be able to heal on my own, without any help. But instead Colleen opened her arms wide. She makes it okay to be me (whatever that is). I found a quiet place to wait for my turn on her table and felt calm settle on me like water washing over my skin. I tipped my head back and felt it caress my eyelids, my throat, and trickle along my collar bones. I remembered that it is only in full acceptance that we can find true peace and balance.
What kind of woman are you?
*This post was sponsored. Next month on Saturday 16 April, there will be a women’s workshop at the Midlands House of Healing. Its focus is on accepting and loving who you are no matter what form that incarnation takes. It’s about giving and getting that acceptance from those whom we often feel to be our harshest critics – other women. The workshop will run from 9am to 2pm, with all refreshments and lunch included for R1200. For more information or to secure your place, contact Colleen on 084 603 0604.