Synchronicity

I’ve been wondering for some time now what my next novel could be about. In the middle of writing non-fiction, I’ve been getting an instinctive feeling that I need to write about something fairly philosophical in my next piece of fiction work. In the last couple of days the fermentation process has come to its peak and a series of events has shifted the cogs off my life one more click to the left as an illusion is lifted and I see things for what they are.

I am a dreamer at times and I tend to live in a world where everything is generally rosy. I know how lucky I am with my job, my partner, my home, my children and particularly my ability to engage myself in something creative and really enjoy it. The process of ‘brewing’ a concept before I begin to write can take an inordinate length of time, sometimes years, before I feel the time is right. This is another way I am very lucky, I have been granted the luxury of waiting until the time is right.

Over the past week the wake-up call I have received has been in many forms. I subscribe to http://www.tut.com/ and I’m a believer in positive thinking, but sometimes things just fit together so well that it’s more than a coincidence. Small pieces of scattered information forming a coherent picture, a resonance with a statement, a lyric striking my heart with happiness, my hair hanging in just the right way for me not to have to worry about material and physiological aesthetics, the feel of clean sheets against my newly bathed skin.

I believe that there are many signs in life if we just know where (and how) to look for them. I started last week discontented and not looking forward to travelling to London- a little lost. I ended up today truly grateful for the huge amount of synchronicity in my life. Once again, I was sitting on a bus, this time the 73 for Victoria to Euston. I read somewhere recently that when you are travelling on a vehicle you are travelling at a different speed dimension, and I often wonder if this is why I have defining moment on trains, planes, the tube and buses? Because time is slightly suspended? I recognised a feeling in myself I had not felt for so long: security. Security despite other people’s carelessness and bad behaviour. Not financial security or validation with another, just safe in my own skin. And the gift in that is that it will allow me the freedom to write, and write with a voice that is deeper and more mature.

So it’s all coming together, and it’s all feeling right, right now. So what’s the big idea for my new novel? Well that would be telling, wouldn’t it?

Love for myself is being aware.

Love for myself is walking away from abuse, however subtle and however familiar.

Love for myself is spending time with people who BUILD ME UP!

Love for myself is being aware of my boundaries.

Love for myself is being aware of the little things that make me joyful.

Love for myself is doing work I love.

Love for myself is surrounding myself with people who SUPPORT me.

Love for myself is forgiving myself.

Love for myself is creating a safe space for myself.

Love for myself is listening to my intuition and acting on it.

Love for myself is being joyful.

Love for myself is marching to my own drum.

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