And a glass of Prosecco …
An amazing lunch …
And sunshine …
And drawing mermaids in the sand …
And eating fresh mackerel from the bbq.
Yesterday was all about re-energising.
It began with a mooch around the garden, poking the tommy plants, studying the bejewelled berry plants. Gradually the echos and ghosts of the Rah Wave started to fade. I reflected on how school buildings must feel when the last kid has gone off for the six-week summer holidays. I thought, if you waited for the final cleaner to lock the door and shuffle away, and then you waited, with bated breath and listened for her car to drive out of the car park and the engine to fade away down the road … then you waited just a few moments more … you’d actually hear the bricks and mortar of that building sigh.
“Ahhhhhhhh,” it would sigh.
I was in that spacey sigh all of yesterday.
That soothing stillness.
Sighing as I pottered. (If I could put a halo above the word pottered, I would.)
Went and had my hair cut and talked about books to the hairdresser. She is in the process of reading Fifty Shades of Grey and was full of giggly recommendations. It was strange because moments before going into the hairdressers I ran into one of my little Gorgeousness Tribe -the Beautiful Flower Girl – who suggested Ads was like the man from Fifty Shades of Grey because he was holding a chain to lock up his kayak.
Then we started talking about the book and how she was on Book 2 and had lent Book 1 to her friend, but now the friend has finished Book 1 and is hassling her for Book 2.
Well. It was quite funny then having the whole hairdressing salon talking about sex slaves and gimp rooms. I was filled in on how there is a millionaire 24 year old called Mr Grey, who has flowing locks (fail), a captivating smile and who flicks his side bits (hair) back lots (fail) and has a room full of bondage equipment.
Now, before you groan and say “oh my goodness Bethan, where have you been?” you must remember that NOT ONLY have I been submerged in a Rah Wave for weeks, but I haven’t watched TV or read a paper for over five months either. This makes me quite out of the loop regarding world media and viral erotica. The latter is upsetting because it’s perfectly clear that everyone I’ve spoken to re. Fifty Shades appears quite energised by their reading experience.
This has led me to think that rather than doing a new raw food detox and energizing myself after the Burn Out, maybe I could just start reading erotic fiction? What do you think?
Anyway … I’m veering. Ahem.
On leaving the salon (and a dozen blushing, slightly ruffled and giggling ladies with their fifty shades of blonde/brunette/grey), I headed down to the beach to meet Ads. He’d been out on his kayak and had caught us five beautiful mackerel. Have you ever seen a mackerel up close? They are the most stunning fish ever … all bottle green swirls, like the surface of the water has been imbedded into their scales.
The sun was coming out.
I sat on the beach, near an old hippy dude who was hunched on the wooden steps gazing at the water. His spectacles were round and thick like the bottom of a Perrier water bottle. Behind me, up on the lifeguard shack with all its peeling paint, a weather-beaten life guard squinted out at the sea. Leaning back against the wall, I took out my pad and started to write some Gorgeousness Pages* – pages that I haven’t had time to write in ages.
And that was v.energising.
Felt the gorgeousness vibes trickling back into my bones.
Equally energizing was the gorgeous lunch that we then had at Cantina, a new Italian restaurant on the seafront. The lovely owner gave us each a complimentary glass of Prosecco before presenting Ads with a bowl of seafood pasta and me with roasted tomatoes (red and yellow, still on the vine and BURSTING with flavour and juices), with creamy buffalo mozzarella, walnut pesto and sun blushed tomato bread.
It was lushness itself.
The day ended with a visit to a secret cove with my Roo, where he paddled and drew robots in the sand. I drew mermaids. Then home for a barbecue with tiny orange peppers stuffed with cheese, mackerel on the bone and radishes purchased from the Jungle Nursery (have I told you about that place??)
After all of that gorgeousness stuffed into one day, I woke today feeling …. good.
I wasn’t exactly “let’s do acrobatics and tightrope walk across telephone wires” good … but I was okay. Like my feet had finally touched the ground. I made my Boy his breakfast (pancakes – a powerful indicator of my energy/mood levels as these rarely happen on a school morn), got us both dressed, packed the packed lunches and left the house, locking the door behind me.
The moment I got into the car my phone trilled. The text was from my gorgeous, lovely Serene Sarah who is like a gypsy violinist and a Spanish peasant woman – even though she is in reality none of those things).
It said, “Flamenco class this Sunday. 11.30-1.00 Opposite The Crab. With Maria Vega. She has website. Need shoes with small heel and flared skirt if no flamenco gear. x”
I don’t know how I feel about this text so I am currently ignoring it. However, I am interested in your opinion.
What is the best method to energise oneself?
Erotic fiction, flamenco dancing or both?
Or just an early night?
PS. Gorgeousness Pages are an amazing tool from my book Grow Your Own Gorgeousness. Probably THE MOST profound tool for self love and guidance that I’ve ever come across.
PPS. Sorry that I haven’t put any images in this post. I hate not doing it but I’m trying to be kind to my post-Burn Out self.
PPPS. Thanks for popping by, you Gorgeous Bean. Love. xxx