This week has been full on. The day job has been demanding, stimulating and rewarding. 8 hour days have turned in to epic 13 hour days. Yet inside I've been secretly loving the intensity and pace.
Especially the huge hug I shared with a strong woman who told me how she survived her deepest pain. I get to meet the most incredible people and hear their stories. What a privilege. And when they reach out to be held, I am more than happy to reciprocate. We hold each other. Physically, emotionally. She didn't know this - but maybe I needed that hug more than her on that afternoon.
My lovely dad is finally turning a corner in his recovery (holding breath as I write this), his body is beginning to feel easier and his eyes are no longer filled with the pain that made them moist. He's giving one-arm-sikh-man-hugs again and I feel his power as my head is pressed in to his chest. I am grateful for every hug and every twinkle in his 86 year old eyes. That's how he smiles now. I breathe them in to my being. How lucky am I to have him as my dad? Takes my breath away. Through his veins the blood of ancient warrior ancestors flow.
Now, I'm finally back UP North and sat in the kitchen of my cosy little abode, central heating on full blast (yeah I know it's May but it's C O L D) and listening to a bit of Whitney. Love her. Throughout this week, I've also been advocating for my dad's rights, for elder rights and this alone feels like a full time job. Meeting with MP's (yep, that's a selfie of my big sis and I with Mr Nick Clegg) - writing emails, reading reports and well, basically challenging The System. It's having some impact but that's not enough for me or my sister. As I sit here contemplating my next move - I feel tired, really tired. I know I'm treading a fine line at the moment - I could fall, I could tumble.
A shaman once told me that I was persecuted in a past life for speaking my mind and standing up for my rights. She said that for most people, being persecuted would shut them up in the next lifetime. But for some strange reason she told me it hadn't shut me up! I laughed...and agreed. And just that acknowledgement from her, whether you believe in past lives or not, was emboldening.
Whitney Houston sums it up for me in her song "I didn't know my own strength"
"I didn't know my own strength
And I crashed down and I tumbled
but I did not crumble
I got through all the pain
I didn't know my own strength"
But I do now.
Amen fellow soul travellers. xox