I’m supposed to be editing my mini-book. I’ve blocked off the time to do it this afternoon. But I’ve just read a spiritual magazine for the first time in ages, and I can’t help but be unsettled by it. It’s a magazine focused on books and publishing in the esoteric and spiritual industry, too. That’s why I’ve chosen it to claim my attention while I eat my lunch in the burning late summer sunshine.
I’ve just buried a bird. It’s the first day of my bleed and I’m in a lot of physical pain and I’ve buried a bird. I didn’t stop to take any photos. And I’m not even sure what kind of bird it was. The whole thing was over pretty quickly, a lot more quickly than I’d imagined, really. Just moments after journaling to myself that I would start taking responsibility for whatever needs doing, as it needs to be done, instead of putting it off until some other (never) later time when it’s usually too late. I looked over at what I had thought was some leaf litter or debris in the garden and I realised that it was a bird.
Sally-Shakti Willow 