closing in
on birth, books and the lessons we learn from leaning in
It was so lovely to be featured on one of my favourite writing podcasts - Not Too Busy to Write - this week. Listen to me chat to Penny Wincer about my small life, the vulnerability of writing fiction, and (of course) what our brain needs for creativity.
Yes, this is my bookshelf. Yes, it is one of my very favourite things.
Just today I noticed that the floorboards were cold so I stood in a patch of sun for a while to warm my bare feet. I baked a banana cake, stewed apples with raisins, a bit of brown sugar and cinnamon, and tonight I’ll roast two chickens so there’s enough for dinner and plenty to make broth and chicken soup tomorrow. This sudden productivity in the kitchen follows a slow week of feeling like I just couldn’t be bothered doing much at all.
If you have felt weary this week - the kind of tiredness that isn’t relieved when you wake in the morning, and which sits alongside a sense of apathy - you’re not alone. We can look out the window and know that the full moon dictates restless sleep; that we’re slowly slipping into autumn which means we’re starting to close in, a protective albeit subtle slowing down; and then of course there is the newsfeed which reports so few ‘panda stories’, we are left with an unshakable sense of doom.
‘Panda stories’ are what we called the light-hearted, optimistic segments that are commonly shared at the very end of the nightly news. They are the gentle reminder we all need: that there is good in life despite the absolute shit-show we’ve just been bombarded with.
On this day 11 years ago, I was in the early stages of labour with my third baby. My waters had broken the night before and I was sent home to rest and let labour progress. I made blueberry pancakes and shuffled around the house getting to know the feeling I couldn’t shake: that something wasn’t quite right. I knew I was scared of what this feeling meant but I also listened intently to it because it reverberated within me as truth often does.