The full moon

Following on from such a lovely week, the third week got off to quite a rocky start for some reason. I booked my return flight back to the UK which may have added to the roughness. As much as I have been wanting a bath and a monster energy drink, there is also a reluctance to returning. Monday morning started the week off strong as me and Chloe cracked open the cans of monster that she had so graciously picked up for us. Looking back, it’s beautiful to see those moments that lead me to keep going.

To amplify those tricky emotions though, I also had a work meeting - which as lovely as it was, reminded me of where I’m returning to. The quietness of it all here is scary, yes. But, there is also beauty in the peace. I’ve had the clarity to do yoga, practice meditation, read, bake, create. I journaled a bunch on Tuesday evening trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Funnily enough, some of the sentences that were written have made it onto hopesthoughts. I remember seeing the stars so clearly that night, hearing the gentle rustle of each tree in the breeze, feeling the warmth of the self made fire. I wrote about my issues with attachment and loss, I questioned my beauty and also tried to discover what parts of me were hurting.

I came out here because I wanted to discover more about myself - but also to prove to myself that I am strong. From the day I was born, I have been labelled as a fighter due to the complications I faced in the womb. At 15, that warrior resurfaced when I became unwell and had to battle my brain intensely for 3 1/2 years. I tell people the tales from that time, the trauma within it all - and they respond praising m

e on the strength I had, but they don’t see that that was a fight for survival. It was a battle I had no choice in. I wanted to do something that I chose to do, to reclaim that power and prove to myself that I am strong.

Thursday that week was a full moon, and I think you can tell that was the case from the topics mentioned above. I made a bunch more cement, lots of heavy lifting and played Munchkin each evening - I am still yet to complete a full game. Friday was a lovely day of work - most days generally were. I had a certain amount of freedom to do what I wanted like listen to music, and a direction of what to do for the task. More so, at the end of each work day I would be met with an incredibly delicious meal - and oh my goodness… after a day of work and lighting a fire for the shower, the hot water has never felt so amazing. Most showers were rushed, knowing you had a finite amount of time of hot water and a number of people waiting, whilst during that time you also have to wash your underwear and socks - nevertheless, I have never felt more appreciative.

The host had returned on Thursday evening so on Friday morning, they decided that due to the crazy amount of rain pouring from the sky, we would go to work in the greenhouse. Eventually it was all of us volunteers working together - it resulted in such a special work day for that matter. It felt like real friendship was established. We laughed and mocked each other, had deep conversations and ones that were full of nonsense, we sat in silence and sang to music. 3 weeks prior, we had been strangers in a whole new environment. Gardening has always been a real soother for me, when I was unwell it helped in some mysteriously magical way way to keep me going and I rediscovered the tranquility of it all that day. I saw the earth for all of her beauty.

It was a rainy weekend that was spent recovering from the exhaustion of the week prior. As much as I enjoyed all of these laborious tasks, they were tiring stuff - and sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress didn’t help the matter. When I woke on Saturday morning, I laid in bed and stared at the wall for 20 minutes. Somehow this had become a somewhat of a routine. I had often found myself waking up during that week and pondering into the abyss for a while before getting going. That morning I read until I realised my hunger so I went and made my staple breakfast - porridge. I still haven’t been converted from a low effort cook, so my go to meal has just been porridge. I chatted with the wonderful host for a bit, they showed me photos an incredible project that they had created called the healing centre. I then had a wave of feeling low wash over me so I went back to my bunk to flop for a bit. I distracted my brain through drawing but still got myself into a tiff as a comment someone had made kept playing over and over in my head. Everything then piled up on top of me and I ended up rambling away to a wall for an hour, crying about every aspect of my life. I know that sounds like some real mopey stuff, but honestly it was quite cathartic.

That evening, I remembered how much joy I had for life when I re-discovered the game ‘heads up’. The evenings had become my favourite part of the day, everybody coming together to relax and unload and eat and play. Going back to ‘Munchkin’, we were still playing that game, except once again, due to the multiple edibles that had been consumed, I was in a trance thinking about the game heads up. I managed to wiggle my way through the game and turn it into one that was more ‘hopes brain friendly’ by playing a game of ‘heads up’ each time it was my go and turning those points into ‘Munchkin’ points. I do apologise, I know this game ‘Munchkin’ has been mentioned a lot, but it was a staple of the trip.

Sunday was spent feeling a disconnect from myself and joy for life. I think I have realised how much my brain thrives on chaos and constant stimulation. I know that being at peace is the aim, but simultaneously, I am used to chaos. I am accustomed to things going wrong, constant stimulation, easy escapes to avoidance. Whereas here, I have to sit with it - and sometimes that does moire harm than good. That evening we had a new volunteer arrive who was full of vibrant energy and that night I went to bed wondering if things would ever be easy for my brain.

The third week was up and down, but in a more intense way. My creativity was sparked up and I embarked (no pun intended) on a drawing of a tree woman - stay tuned to see it on hopesthoughts. The lows meant that I was crashing and burning mentally, but the highs felt as though I was soaring through sunshine soaked clouds. I left it ready for a fresh start.