At the moment, I am dealing with stress through art! It has been wonderful to explore an old hobby that I gave up when Mum passed away.
Usually grief is a concept pushed to the edges of Christmas along with dried out Christmas tree needles and discarded wrapping paper. I had heard of A Boy Named Christmas through flashes on screens in adverts. I thought “boy and mouse; what could go wrong?” Immediately, my heart sank as I discovered the children had lost their mother.
I wish he was here. Such is the nature of grief.
Hearing the click of the switch as they started treatment. I wish it on no one, not even an enemy.
I decided I enjoyed being bad at yoga. Of course, I was bad at yoga. I’m a clumsy girl. Yoga is reserved for a different type of elegance, one I can’t even begin to harbour.