Sarah’s Journal

20 Aug

Posted at 16:45h in Sarah's Journal by

I found a mouse left dead on the pavement. I instinctively swept it deftly into a doggy poo bag. If it has been poisoned it could cause serious harm to other animals if eaten, so I take it home. On close inspection it has been squashed – a blunt force trauma to the torso, but no obvious signs of blood. It’s tiny paws and teeth – so annoying when busy scratching under our stairs – now fill me with awe. I am sad to see its limp lifeless body, admire the way its whiskers glisten in the sunlight.

14 Aug

Posted at 08:43h in Sarah's Journal by

It’s a sign. Holes bored in a skull by eons of sea washing in, washing out. Socket for eyes, smaller for nose, a comet shaped mouth. Cranium worn rounded but the bone of my imagination is replaced by the waxy feel of unpolished chalk. “The Isle of Thanet in ancient times”, our Air B and B host says, “was known as The Isle of the Dead”. We walk along its shore now full of vigour, picnic and holiday enjoyment, but it was once a liminal place, a resting site for our ancestors.

13 Aug

Posted at 22:01h in Sarah's Journal by

I am walking on the Kent coast in search of omens and answers. This stone calls me, crude shape of love. A heart of stone, in search of softening perhaps? I hold this stone heavy in my pocket. I feel its comforting elbows as I grasp it. Sand granules gather in my pocket, abrading my palm as they rub off. I am with those I love, I am loved. I carry the stone home, bumping my leg, coat tied round my waist, a signifier of this here now.

05 Aug

Posted at 13:43h in Sarah's Journal by

An envelope on the parquet floor in the hallway. A real handwritten envelope with a stamp, and inside a card and a gift. It contains skull and heart beads and a card to colour in. I love the glinting silver, the incongruous procession of pink skulls. I love the randomness of the arrival of this present, and yet its perfect timing to celebrate Love and Loss. Most of all I love the sender, who thinks with colour and craft and spent the thought processing time and legwork to put it in the post box.

04 Aug

Posted at 11:40h in Sarah's Journal by

I’m wearing a large pink wide-brimmed sun hat. It’s a beautiful warm day. The scent of lavender reaches me before my feet pass. I inhale, sucking up the memories of bottom drawers, lying in a relaxing bath, rubbing my tense temples. It smells warm, purple, summer and my breath deepens. I am surrounded by the buzz of frantic searching, fast moving wings. Among the perfume soaked flowers are dozens of African bees. Slender, argumentative, resilient bees. One slow lone bumble bee pootles to stem after stem of lavender. I sense my childhood summers disappear, an uncertain future looms ahead. This single bumble bee feels like a portent of future diminishing returns.

01 Aug

Posted at 14:39h in Sarah's Journal by

On the page before love in the Collins Paperback English dictionary is loss. Love is not always guaranteed, loss is. If it hasn’t found you already, it’s coming. It arrives in infinite forms – ‘everything you love you will lose’ (Francis Weller), and everything else too. ‘Everything changes’ is a universal truth. The dictionary describes loss in the form of a transaction, without the weight that it may carry. While bringing suffering and sorrow, the flipside of loss can be relief and liberation. Will you be ready to open the door when loss comes, and invite it in?

01 Aug

Posted at 14:30h in Sarah's Journal by

The dictionary seems inadequate in its description of the powerful energy which moves, holds, energizes, soothes and glues us together. It’s absence may be the driving force in our lives. However, such an important thing as love is hard to define. It may only be in the face of something’s loss that we can recognise love’s true shape. For me, love is connection plus meaning, and the seed of compassion. It is a towering force, yet hard to see – visible in the casual touch of a hand, an unmasked glance, a beating heart.