Journal 2st Sept

21st

I came home to my LB singing the Roobarb & Custard theme on my answering machine, he's chuffed to bits with his pressies. Wee sweetie. Phones me even. This is fabulously new and wonderful. For me, and of course, for his inner child.

Thank you Universe.

Jingle jingle.

I call him back and leave a message as he's engaged. Monkey mind reckons it's with the closet nutcase blonde in her thirties who was quite obviously after him, but so what. Living so far apart what could come of it anyway. We're doing this the old fashioned way. Getting to know the person first, not the orifices and dangly bits. Have seen them anyway.

He has a beautiful body, LB. Slim to the point of fragile. Okay he's skinny. But symmetrical like a dancer and his muscles are so smoothly contoured, you just want to run your finger tips over them to feel the smooth firm roundness of them. Not an ounce of fat on him. Mental note - try veganism for a while (but only if G&B's chocolate is allowed).

According to Google - it is.

Nothing with a face, or that has the potential to have a face or that is derived from anything with a face, or that which has face potential.

Sack that. It's hard enough to decide what to cook for tea without all those rules. I mean is butter allowed even?

6pm. I have my last meeting with the councillor. She sort of brings it up really.
She says "There's such a difference in you tonight, am I right about that?

"Yes you are I say, and without squirming, without blushing, without guilt, I say
"And I don't want to book any more sessions after this one.
She smiles.
"I'm glad to hear it.

I'm a bit taken aback by that. But she's being genuine.

"And can I say Hazel, and this might sound weird, but it's been an absolute pleasure.

I'm so glad my life falling apart has brought her so much pleasure.

"Well it's been so beneficial to me, right from the first one, but I think it's a bit like Echinacea, you don't need to take it all the time.

We laugh and she wishes me good luck, and agrees Aberdeen probably isn't the place for me. The move I'm contemplating seems like a good idea.

So I leave and feel very grown up and liberated. It's not something I ever dreamed I'd do, nevermind admit to. But it did really help me, right from the first, I got some big insights and learned to keep the evening free after sessions as a lot of the main insights were after the event. There is just something about someone occasional saying, "And was that not your reality too? that really helps you stop questioning yourself, your instincts.

Most bizarre was a clear as day memory of being a baby in a dark bedroom, being silent and afraid, on my back, not sleeping, not making a noise, scared of the orange street light coming in through the tan paper blind. So vivid.
I'd been scared of the dark those few weeks of freaking out you see. Sleeping with pink heart fairy lights on above my bed. Having to leave lights on inside my house to come home to.
Avoiding the void.
I liked that Megans are afraid of the dark too. There was a comfort in that inanimate object taking care of the lights like that.
When I was freaking out.

Last time I was at Findhorn I had to hold a palm stone while I was walking the beach, I so needed something to hold onto. When I passed him especially. Sitting on the dune, mis-timing my walk. I felt him staring, then saw him but didn't go to him, even though he stood up and stared, facing me like some mental Heathcliff. I didn't go. I was mad as hell at him. I didn't go.

¦Heathcliff black, by five o'clock¦

The councillor once asked me, "Why are you touching your face like that? I hold my cheeks in both hands when I'm talking about upsetting things. The kind of face holding a fabulous kiss would need. I didn't know I did it. When I had to sit and think about the why of it, putting my hands there, taking them off, I discovered, it's for comfort. The heat of my hands comforts me when I talk about upsetting things.

I like that I do that for me. I can be a gentle soul really. I should let that sink in more.

Mabon today. Night and Day equal. Balance at last. The holiday before the harvest,
before the planning for the Winter.
The pregnant peak.
I feel I've gathered in all the freaking out threads, and tied them up in the corn dolly of my psyche.
The essence of me in it.
To be hung,
For luck and prosperity,
Until the Spring.