Sheila Mae Hamilton: Blog Number #1

Well, whoever thought I would be writing a blog?  Certainly not me!  But I need to thank Mairi, my tutor, and the students on the WEA Highland Women Writing course for encouraging me to believe in my ability to write. 

I keep saying in Capacitar classes, ‘’if you practice being open to receiving, then who knows what might come your way, what opportunities and surprises, if you can let down your defences sufficiently to welcome in, to receive’’.

Being in nature.

I’m always aware of the impact that being outdoors has on me – it just lifts my spirit to be in nature.  Usually, I walk quite briskly for exercise and to clear my head, however, my knee is currently quite painful. I think I may have twisted it rushing to get the grass cut before dashing off to visit family as soon as the covid restrictions were eased – and so I am forced to walk more slowly and I notice I’m walking more mindfully, really noticing things at my more leisurely pace. 

The wild primroses are still abundant and bluebells are increasingly coming through alongside them.  We have a generous carpet of lesser celandine, wood anemone, and marsh marigolds this year. Yesterday I saw a delicate little white flower that I have not noticed before. Not being sure what it was I consulted my friends, who are far more knowledgeable about flowers than I am – you know who you are – and I believe it’s the Lesser Stitchwort.  One of my learning styles is to learn from others, though if I were judgemental of myself, I might just regard that as an excuse!

Snails were travelling on the tarmac road this morning and I am curious about where they’ve come from and where they’re heading.  They certainly looked purposeful.  There were earthworms too lengthening themselves and then gathering themselves up to move forwards – fascinating to watch. The snails and worms seemed so vulnerable and not all of them survive, a bit like all of us really. 

The art of patience.

I gasped out loud as I watched a heron take off from near the pond, so gracefully and slowly and beautifully,  I think it’s nesting in the trees there.  They’re such big birds, that even with my short-sightedness, I can see them clearly. I watched it head for the shore, circle the bay and settle on a rock a little way out to sea.  One of the symbolic meanings of a heron is ‘’patience’’. I feel there’s learning for me in that, to be patient with my painful knee, give it time to heal, and accept that for now, I’m walking slowly and noticing so much around me that is beautiful. 

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