It began like this.
I get back into bed. And shake and shake. It’s too much. I can’t stop.
The C-test shows negative.
On the third evening, the fever breaks. But during those feverish days and nights, something new emerges inside me — a powerful force asking me to reclaim my life. I had become complacent. I know it. Not in the basics like exercise and sleep and work, but in the subtler, more nuanced parts of life. The webbing that holds it all together.
I felt a strong calling, unlike any I felt before. It was visceral and palpable. Two words kept rising up.
More.
And less.
More of what makes life worth living.
And less of drains viscous life force from me.
After decades of living on the sidelines of modern society, only dipping in when and as I needed to, the past two years I had submerged myself in it entirely and as a result of having learned to barriers to protect me from the bombardment of information on how to have a morning routine, what 11-step beauty routine to follow, and that women’s empowerment is all about making more money I had lost myself.
On the fourth evening, I delete my emails from my phone, mute everyone on Instagram and promise myself not to return to the space until I am anchored in the purest, rawest version of myself.
The next morning I wake early and lay in bed listening to the birds sing. I meditate. I feed my cat. I strip the bed and put it in the wash but have to lay down right after as it takes all the energy out of me. After 4 days in bed with fever and shakes my body is weak.
I am remembering how to let my body be a prayer. It is teaching me how to be slow, still and present again.
Vienda xx
P.S. Over the next few weeks/months I am taking myself through a personal renewal. An intentional restoration of mind, body, heart and soul. A returning home of sorts. I’m going to note down the process. Would you be interested in me teaching it to you? Because no one is alone in this world — and seeking support can be a beautiful thing.
P.P.S. I’ve started dating again. Well, in theory. I’m going on 3 dates with 3 different men as soon as my body is strong enough to walk the 400 metres to the closest cafe again.
P.P.P.S. If I started writing a secret monthly £3 subscription with 2-3 emails per month — where I can write and say all the things that I don’t otherwise — would you pay?