In this (real) wild world

I tried writing a little each day this week to create a post filled with thoughts and feelings of the day. I have been walking with depression and anxiety more often than not this last little while, and while I am ok, I want to be honest about how completely imperfect my life is, because I am pretty sure everyone’s life is imperfect, and we need to stop pretending otherwise. Being human can be a challenge, and yet here we are just being every day. The audacity!

So, there is just a little talk of depression, if that is something you would rather avoid, then come back next week for a new post.

We don’t live in the sterility of an AI world, thank the moon and stars. We don’t even live in the perfectly airbrushed and scripted world of Hollywood (again, thank you!). But we do live where there are Egret and Spoonbill and Pelican and Wolf. And for that I am eternally grateful.

I went for an early morning walk, the first in a little while, because although it is the most easy, accessible, impactful self care to help mitigate depression and anxiety and the pain my body carries, when all those things are pecking incessantly, at me it is also the first thing I stop doing.

Our complexity is ridiculous sometimes. Well, I can only speak for myself there I guess (but I suspect you might agree).

I have made space for my first proper altar in years - many, many years. So as I was walking I was hoping to be presented with a feather perfect to place on there. By the end of the walk I realised how I was wanting the altar to be perfect.

Capitalism + Patriarchy = Perfectionism 🤮

And I hate how no matter how much I think I have unwoven and reweaved, there is still that (strong) thread of perfectionism, of performance, of external show.

And I also know that even sans-feather at the end of the walk, I was given so very much in just that half hour. Bird song and aerial antics. Warm winter morning sun on my back. And getting fairly close to watch a Royal Spoonbill and a Great Egret standing close to each other in cold, weedy water - not quite snuggled, but far closer than I have seen those two big white birds stay in place with each other. Just standing, resting, and then slightly annoyed that I didn’t walk past and instead stared at them, smiling. And even whispering my wonder to them. Silly, wonder-full, human.

So far this new altar has three Tawny Frogmouth feathers - two I have found over the years on that same walk, and one from a reserve only 10 minutes drive away. I had decided that only bird of prey feathers belong on my altar. (Yes, I know Tawny Frogmouth aren’t birds of prey anymore than a Kookaburra is, but work with me here). I have a candle on order from Southern Wild Co (my favourite). I have two plants to frame my altar space, and I am full of gratitude for the green life, the feathered reminder of the wild life, and soon, the flame, to remind me of passion held in life lived with attention and devotion.

And then I realised that I have an altar I am present to everyday already - the kitchen window I watch the birds and my trees out of when I wash up everyday. Often messy, ever changing, full of life and quiet and chaos and calm depending on the moment, it centres me, it gives me joy, it lets my mind wander and wonder, and it tethers me to this place and to the wild heart that beats in this animal chest. Perfectly imperfect.

May my new space find even half the presence that the kitchen window does.

How lucky I am to live where there are Egret and Spoonbill and Tawny Frogmouth and all the birds that make me laugh outside my kitchen window!

Another walk - the little daily activity that heals, that gives me joy when I am feeling low. And this time the star is an Australian Pelican.

These are BIG birds, though not the largest Pelicans apparently, and while I have seen one on both of the little lakes before, this one was in the same space as the Egret and Spoonbill (there was also an Egret there today, wondering if they were the same one!) - a tiny overflow space that leads into reeds. These birds need a good runway to take off, so I was genuinely curious how this was going to happen in such a small space - though they could, of course, make their way up onto the embankment.

After speaking to them for a moment, I kept walking.

A few minutes later as I was walking past the smaller lake a great shadow came over me, and as I turned my head left there were big black wings, a huge bill and body, and feet splayed wide as skis ready to land in the water. What a delight to watch this big bird navigate their way, low and gliding, into the little lake. A shake of the tail (requisite) when landed and body securely in the water, and within a few more metres of my feet hitting pavement, their head was underwater looking for treats.

How lucky I am to live where there are Pelicans!

I am really struggling this morning, one of those days when I am feeling so very disheartened and quite useless. I keep asking what it is that I am doing wrong, because clearly I am not following the “being a successful human” formula correctly. I question all my choices. I keep telling myself the corner will turn soon, but for someone managing depression, I have to say, that corner sometimes feels more like a spiral heading down rather than up.

The realities of being a complex human. I know many of you understand, and perhaps have felt similarly. I have successfully white-knuckled my way through life, masking these thoughts and feelings for decades, and apparently I am not able to do so anymore. Maybe I can blame peri-menopause for tearing away the veil. Maybe I should thank her, too.

Most mornings I can shake myself out of it after a while. I put my head down and draw for a little while. I feed the birds (when I say this Blur’s “Park Life” always comes to mind. No sparrows or pigeons though. IYKYK). I interact with my Hedgerow Community (always a highlight of my day), and I work through, on, around the eleventy ideas I have at any one time.

Many mornings I pull an oracle card to help me find answers within myself, or at least to feel seen. For the last while I have been working with Rebecca Campbell “The Rose Oracle”. A fellow Australian living now in Glastonbury UK, while the deck is not what I would usually choose artistically (though it is very beautiful indeed), the focus on the divine feminine and the rose (favourite flower) as her signifier spoke to me, and I have loved working with it.

I am always so surprised (and equally not at all surprised) when the same couple of cards come up for me over and over. This morning was Held - sureness of the soil, unseen help, support, community. One I have had more than a dozen times.

“Community. Sureness of the soil. A place to hold our deep roots.”

Hedgerow. If those words do not describe Hedgerow, I don’t know what else would.

Another morning I feel so deeply unsure of myself, the direction I am going. Another morning where this beautiful Earth’s energies hear me and assure me to keep going, that what I am doing is not ridiculous but needed, for me, and for the women inside.

And so I finish up my first cup of tea, pull on my big girl’s trousers, and get to work. I dab a little rose essential oil on my collar so I can smell it all day. And I start researching more about Wolf - the subject of next month’s Journal.

How lucky I am to live in a world where there are Wolves!

And how lucky I am to walk this wild world with you, too.

Until next week,