Golden Hour #042: Holding it Lightly
and remembering to breathe
Three times I forgot to breathe this week:
On Wednesday: I am waiting for the midwife to confirm there is a still heartbeat. ‘The baby is breech’ she announces, which might explain why his movements feel different. She uses a doppler to locate the thud of the organ that keeps him alive. Nothing to worry about. I exhale.
On Thursday: as my social media feed is dominated by people with Very Strong Opinions about Baillie Gifford. I am told by one troll that I am part of an ‘elite’. I stop myself from responding. It hurts to see our campaign mischaracterised as an attack on the very books we write, edit and publish. I breathe through it and try to ground myself in the words of wise people. I hold my daughter, born at 416.28 ppm, and remember why this matters to me.
On Saturday: I read reports of the Israeli hostages being rescued and taken back to Israel. This feels like good news. But then I learn that 200+ Palestinians were killed as fighting broke out nearby. Does this feel like justice? I wonder. Justice does not feel like this. Justice is love in action, says Cornel West.
And three times I remembered:
On Thursday: In my living room, with my spinning wheel, as I remember that I need to get out of my head and into my body. The wool passes through my fingers as my feet turn the treadle. My breathing steadies again.
On Friday: During a call with a writer friend, who has written a brilliant novel which we are both excited about. We talk about the importance of separating processes of analysis and creation and holding things lightly.
On Saturday: In my garden, with my daughter, putting flowers in each other’s hair.