Refocussing the Spirit...

Sometimes, my heart races...

I cannot stop moving, yet I feel I'm in slow motion. My creativity is shot, for a spell. Therefore, anxiety increases...

I don't know why, every now and then I do this. But I have learned some tools to get out of it.

Some things that refocus my spirit are:

• Baking biscuits; enough for everybody around me. Making, and giving, for no particular occasion, just out of a love of life is a sure way to revitalise your mind and heart.

• Reading George MacDonald to myself in the afternoon sun, or by lamp light in the middle of the night. Whenever I go to him, he blesses me with a peace, a knowledge and a rekindled inspiration for a new day...

• Walking up "my" Mt Painter is another tool to calm to soul. The pure determination it takes to get up there is like a restart button for my mind. Everything is clearer when encompassed in God's creation like this...

• The last of these, is perhaps the most helpful. It's bringing myself here, to you. Where I read blogs, and share my own heart in this little piece of blog space... The friendships I have made are so special, go beyond flesh and can be relied upon to refocus a spirit on the cloudiest of days.

Blessings to all this beautiful day! And may your spirit sing at the thought of a blessed life, in this beautiful world.

Shell xx

Booksmith?

I've become a reader!

For years my family, friends and {avid reader} husband have been trying to get me to read various literary treasures but I am someone who has stupidly never devoted my time to reading. Go figure? It makes no sense to me, or to anyone who knows me that I - somebody who loves writing, who always considered English her favouite subject at school, who is a stickler for correct spelling and grammar, a song and poetry writer - me - not read?! It's preposterous! And it is also {I hate to admit} lazy.

I don't like the idea of being intellectually, physically, or in any way lazy. I like to think of myself as a powerhouse of energy and self motivation! So I always find myself feeling a little bit embarrassed when people talk about the books they're reading, I want to be in those conversations, but I know there are countless pages to be ploughed though before I can have my share of the debriefing chats. And sadly, I don't make the effort.

So I didn't start my reading career with Lord Of The Rings, or Harry Potter. I started with a book I bought months ago. From one of the many wonderful blogs I read here each day over tea and toast. I've been always meaning to read it. Then last week I finally picked it up.

I have laughed out loud, been totally engrossed, cried, looked forward to getting things done so I can snuggle up on the couch and find out more of this real life story. Which I have related to a great deal through my own body image, and weight loss story.

Dietgirl is a treasure. An encouragement. She has inspired me to write, and to read, now and always!

Do visit her blog. Shauna is a fantastically witty, gifted, and clever writer both in this book and on her blog.

I am on a bit of a literary high now after finishing the book tonight, my eyes are wide open as I am suddenly noticing all the novels and biographies in Jamie's bookshelf as books "I" might read... I have graduated! I am a reader! I need to have a badge made! And I need to ask a question to all you learned friends out there - what do you suggest I read now?

Songsmith {booksmith?} xx

I have seen...

As many cassettes in one room (as ever was seen)!

I have sifted through records, and smelled that smell of dust and excitement at finding something special, recognisable... 

I have seen more than I could possibly put into the one post, so have made it into two!

Gould's Book Arcade

32 King Street,

Newtown, Sydney

Shell xx

Piano

A poem by David Herbert Lawrence.

From an old book that I found in Jamie's extensive and eclectic library...  He is a complete, and proud book worm, so it will never be surprising what I find in there...  Anything from Tolkien, to Biggles, to biographies about cricketers; to poetry.  I enjoy the poetry.

This poem I liked because I can see what the writer sees.  And I probably can play it!  I hope my children have memories of me playing the piano and singing them songs...

Piano

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;

Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see

A child sitting under the piano, in the bloom of the tingling strings

And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles

as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song

Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong

To the old Sunday evening at home, with winter outside

And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour

With the great black piano appassionato.  The glamour

Of childish days upon me, my manhood is cast

Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for

the past.

Shell xx