One twig at a time
Posted on Instagram on March 26, 2018
"One twig at a time. Like a bird making a nest." (Carol Lovekin)
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I happened to talk with a dear friend who is having a rough time. I know depression, I know life-crushing anxiety, I know they have their own process and timing... Still, all of me just wanted to make her better, help her, grab her hand and pull her out of the darkness.
But how?
I know all too well not to use those suggestions that are mostly harmful rather than useful - just think positive, be strong, don't think about it.
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So I promised I would make her an amulet to light her way.
Something to remember her that if you look at all the things you should do and all the things you can't manage to do, all the ugly things your mind shouts at you, it's overwhelming. Paralysing.
That all you can do is to love yourself for what you are right here and right now, and moving gently, one step at the time. One tiny step at the time.
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One twig at the time, like a bird making a nest...
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So here is a little nest, a tiny feather, and a warm tiny heart, a symbol of this graceful, kind, loving wisdom.
Thankyou, my friend, for inspiring this amulet. Thankyou because I need it as well.
Thankyou because we may be able to offer this piece of love to others needing it.
You know who you are 💙
In my own little world
Posted on instagram on March 25, 2018
A few days ago I found myself in the grasp of unexpected anxiety - I had 10 days panic free, and it hit me harder than it usually would have.
I could not help myself. The body tense, clutching. Breathing in little gulps of air. No matter how I tried to stay busy and meditate and breathe.
My mind was attacking me, repeating me the old story: "See, Alice, I told you, it was good but it couldn't last. You are back in the black hole. You are doomed for life."
I didn't want to hear these cruel words. To believe them. But it was so difficult, and all I wanted was to be able to reach that space inside of myself - that little world, all mine, where I can go and feel safe and find relief.
But I could not reach it. Just out of the grasp of my fingers.
And then I started to think if that place existed at all. Had I made it all up? Was I really delusional, and doomed to live in this hurtful hopeless state?
In the night hours, begging for sleep, I realised.
In spite of darkness, dream.
So I dreamed up these amulets.
To me, they are little worlds - all to yourself. Tiny planets to hide into. Where you can take your time to find your center again. Where you can finally slow down and find your breathing again. Where you can dream.
The outside is domed and textured like the surface of some far away planet. This is for the world to see.
The inside, to hold against your heart, is a hollow space filled with stars and abstract shapes. At first I wanted to put some sort of realistic landscape in it, but then I realised that each of us has their own images, objects and symbols of comfort... So, I'd rather give you an abstract landscape to gaze at, a tool to trigger your imagination, your own ability to dream and find the right symbols and the soul medicine that works for you.
This mini world, held against your chest, whispering to your heart, is a reminder that you can find that spark of peace again. And something like a meditation - dreaming tool to help you access it.
The solid weight of the amulets is someway grounding. Their texture is soothing tactile practice as you run your fingers on them.
La petite mort pendant
Posted on Instagram on March 21, 2018
For every death, big and small, that we experience while living.
For what it strips away from us.
For what it turns into ashes.
For the freedom it brings.
For the chains it forces us to break.
For the death to be found in life, and the life to be found in death.
Sprouting and rotting. Coming and going.
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Hand fabricated sterling silver pendant sculpture, free hand design and carving, with a drop of labradorite.
La Petite Mort Ring
Posted on Instagram on March 20, 2018
It's curious, this process. Healing.
How it is not at all linear.
How it's made up of familiar lows and unexpected highs.
I am terrified of healing. I am terrified of letting myself believe I am actually, really getting better.
Don't get me wrong, fifteen years in the grasp of depression and panic, and all the time I have been going and going and doing all I could to get out of it.
I don't like to feel all that terror and anxiety and darkness, always staring at that black mouth trying to swallow me whole.
But the past 15 days have been good.
And I mean, really good for me. For my standards.
I still feel fear and anxiety but I see myself doing noticeable steps forward; being able, at times, to do things despite the fear.
And when I stop to think about this - to think that omg I may really have a chance at life - I find resistance. A part of me is worried. So much will change. Challenges. Structures falling apart.
The mind doesn't like change.
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And I create. With an holy energy I can't even start to describe.
With a madness.
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I talk of the dance with Death.
Being someone who has been suicidal for so long, death is not a new subject. But now I see it more widely. Dare I say more wisely? Hah. That may be too much.
But I recognise Death as not only the end of this human experience. Not only as the blessed end of the nightmare.
I start to see what death is in our living - the kind of death we resist to with a vengeance: death of old personalities. Of old stories we keep telling ourselves, that aren't true for us anymore. Of relationships that are asleep and numb.
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As usual, Nature knows.
The ways in which what is dead is assimilated into the structure of what is still living. The way in which flesh and cartilage sink down into the soil and come back as grass in a new season.
The fruit rots. The flower wrinkles and surrenders to the cycle.
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So I play with death. With skulls - in silver, in pearls.
I learn to ask them to teach me to become wise, wiser. More authentic. More fearless.
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And beauty always comes and laughs and teaches me how I am worthy.
YES
Posted on Instagram on March 18, 2018
I woke up crazy with need to create this amulet. Early morning, light barely there.
Remember what I wrote yesterday, about the seed deep in the womb of the earth?
Such a small thing, wrapped in darkness - having to surrender to breaking in order to sprout, pushed and pulled by the impetuous energy of spring.
The brave little seed that breaks and grows a stem, reaching for the light - how does it even know the direction of the light in that complete darkness it lies in? Its heart knows, I like to think.
Trusting that its delicate stem and newborn minuscule leaf will have what it takes to break soil and grow and thrive.
Every time this small miracle happens, it's a seed saying YES. Yes to life. Yes to showing up. Yes to experiencing the seasons and the challenges and the glorious nourishing warmth of the sun.
Saying YES to the promise of life.
Accepting to realise its potential. .
I made three of these amulets. Each one is like taking a peek through the earth, allowing you to see the tiniest seed and its delicate stem and leaf, still wrapped in the darkness, but reaching for a golden light that is just there, just below the layer of the ground. Small miracle. Gentle promise. A hull that contains this ancient knowledge, this holy prayer. The back round and sweet and tactile, like grasping soil with your bare hands.
It can be worn both ways... With the seed toward your skin, protected, whispering to your heart; or facing out, remembering you of that deep truth each time you look in the mirror.
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May we find in ourselves the courage of the seed. May we be able to surrender to the life that is calling to us, inviting us to become what we are meant to be.
💙