A Gift Of A Bowl Of Beauty
This morning I whittle away on work design whilst making sourdough bread. A friend gave me the gift of this beautiful bowl, which arrived in the post this morning, it's a work of art and fills me with a sense of so much beauty. The bread within as it undertakes it's task of growth and expansion; brings to me a sense of harmony. And then there's the arrival of faith - that, with a container imbued with a warming alchemical balance, a loaf of bread will be the outcome. It's all about the container.
I'm listening to a broadcast by Fergal Keane on BBC Sounds, How The Irish Shaped Britain. I need support with understanding what happened my ancestors, I was taught history in school, none of it 'stuck' or resonated with my heart, and this broadcast is helping me. I move between mourning and laughter, and get some sense of the seeds of resilience that arise for me in my life.
And then there's dear Buttercup, the doll I am making. I could hardly breathe last night as I made her eyes and mouth. How could I ever offer her beauty and harmony with these unskilled hands? So there was a fair bit of 'undoing and redoing' in the process and as I look at her now, the warming process begins between us. (Though I can sense she doesn't express the 'perfection' I hungered for, so there's some warmth needed in me). Even though she isn't finished, I had to wrap her up in a little blanket until I make some clothes for her. I couldn't bear thinking of her without protection. And so, I am listening to these inner images, stirrings, with curiosity and warmth and have a sense of their roots in my life and in my work. The hunger for peace, warmth and the process of bonding and nurturing.
And kindness, to myself, for what it means and what it takes to arrive into life's fullness with what feels like so much 'resistance' in my being, and choosing to see it and explore it as a calling home.