How Long, How Long - Will These Heartstrings Stretch to the Moon?

This week it's a walk on the beach and trip to the stars

 

Time Travel for Newborns

Sometimes it’s good to remind ourselves how far we’ve come.

This Saturday I walked many miles on a beach down in Suffolk. I was blissfully happy. I’ve visited that particular beach regularly these last few years as it always reminds me of Carmel by the Sea, back in my beloved California. White sand with washed up eroded tree trunks — it's my secret escape.

Later that evening, I began looking for an old Facebook video I'd made for my 2021 Kickstarter campaign, when I was trying to raise funds to release the Lockdown version of ‘Carmel'. I'd been in a very vulnerable place at the time, brutally open about the day I decided to go on my American odyssey. I'd wanted people to fully understand what had pushed me to do it, and why I was asking for help with the project: the value I hoped it would give to others. But I’d never shared such a personal story before on the internet.  I wasn't sure if now, feeling in a better place these days, I'd made a mistake.

Long story short, I found the video, watched it to the end and left it. I look younger, thinner and, quite honestly, like a newborn. I still had so much further to travel before ‘Sweet Decline’ could be manifested. But it reminded me why I carried on, how grateful I am now the record’s out. I left it just in case someone stumbles upon it one day, just when they need it.

You can re-watch the video here if you’d like to.

Cha-cha-Changes

 

Time moves on and we change. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? My ex — now a friend, I'm happy to say — thinks I haven’t changed.  Other friends tell me they don't recognise me. I look back on who I was in that video and agree. It’s hard to recognise myself because I’ve experienced too much not to have changed. I’ve shed so much.  Going back to who I was in 2019 would probably be like trying to fit into a pair of shoes I was wearing in infant school. The point is, we’re not supposed to fit into them. That’s the nature of living. It’s an exponential movement outwards, just like the universe continually expanding.

I used to think healing all my s*** was the act of peeling off layers, like an onion or gobstopper. Each time I’d think I’d got to the centre, another layer would appear. But these days I think of it as quite the opposite, more like ripples spreading outwards. Eventually, if we do the work, we might fill the whole universe and contain more than a million stars.

Totes On Tour

 

With the universe and travel in mind, I’m excited about sharing this bit of news with you. Yvonne, one of my Tall Trees, recently started taking pictures of her ‘Sweet Decline’ tote bags in various locations. She’d bought a few totes for friends and got them to take pictures. Another person took his to the Albert Hall. I loved the idea so much I’ve created a special Google map for them here -  my Sweet Decline tote-bombing Totes on Tour map.

There are still a few totes left for sale at my online shop - link here if you fancy joining in. Like my Sleepless in Nashville post way back in February, I hope one day the Totes on Tour map might end up like little light bulbs of hope illuminating the world. Maybe they’ll travel as far as the South Pole? Or better still, the moon…