This blog is new to me. I am new to blogging. I am also new to wearing my heart on my sleeve when when it feels so fragile it might just die.
My daughter was stillborn, at times I can't cope. Not even a little.
So I have wholeheartedly emerged myself in the practice of distraction, creative therapy and love of nature. I didn't write poetry before my daughter died. I didn't share photo's before my daughter died. I didn't take risks with emotional safety.
In my past life I have been hunt saboteur, human rights and environmental rights campaigner, animal rights activist, a veterinary nurse, homelessness worker, legal advisor. I'm trying to reconnect with the life I was living. Now however, it seems little more than a past life, a distant memory, a different me. I don't know if I can ever be that person again.
So, right now, I am struggling to partake in Mother Henna's heART of the Hero. Like this blog, I find myself writing, creating, then deleting. I posted this picture of my hero(ine), the nocturnal me, a past life me a week or two ago, and like other things, I promptly snuffed it out.
I'm going to try and keep this here for a little while to remind myself that day always breaks eventually. I look forward to a new day.
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