Showing posts with label corona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label corona. Show all posts

30 September 2021

A year later, Autumn 2021

Summer is over; I feel sad. I was swimming in the Thames daily in September, and I think it did me really good. When the first cold day arrived I chickened out, though. I can't get myself to go in when the outside temperature is cooler than the water. Autumn has arrived so abruptly, hasn't it. Today we've had the stove going all day, and I'm sure it will go on most of the evening, and probably most days from now.

Three years we've now been on Coddiwomple. We had our anniversary a few days ago. Wow - how time flies. How are we doing? I think we're doing alright. Our boating community is growing, we've done more cruising this summer than the two years before together, and I learned a few tricks about mooring. I hurt my hand once, when I tried to stop the boat bumping into a narrow boat - what a fool. Now I know what to do, fortunately. I always seem to have a kind helper nearby when I'm struggling. Ewan has improved his skills a lot, and I'm proud of him. 

Going into winter, I am fretting again. Just feeling the cold on my face and head last night I thought, "here we go again, freezing nights ahead. When will I be allowed to have the central heating on during the night." Ewan is not as easily cold as I am. Strangely, my swim sessions have not changed my sensitivity to the cold; I thought it would. Ewan has started to bring wood and coal over to the boat on a daily basis. He has a 20 minute walk to his van, so he can only carry a bag at the time, bless him. He's a man of his word. He promised me to always keep me warm, and he hasn't let me down.

Jack the dog is sleeping next to me on the sofa. He's now ten years old; that's 70 in human years. He's still quite fit, but his hips are now and then letting him down. Sometimes he doesn't manage to get up the 4 steps onto the stern, poor little thing. And sometimes he doesn't quite manage to jump into the boot of the car. But mostly he's still okay, fortunately. I wonder what it will be like, if/when we'll have to lift him up the steps, out onto the bank, and into the car. He's such a wonderful companion, but now and then he's got the cheek to disappear for nearly an hour. He picks up on a barbecue scent and goes off to get what he can get. Often he appears all filthy, and I have to wash him - little idiot. 

I'm often yearning to move back to land. My back is not getting better, and my bones feel the damp and cold so badly. I remember that an acupuncturist warned me about moving onto the river; she told me I'd feel it in my bones. She was right. But I'm getting better at accepting that this is our life now, and that it will most certainly be many years before we can go back to land. At least I'm doing something about my diet now; maybe that will do the trick. Good, healthy food, yoga, walks and swimming - I should feel better in a few month's time.

Through the first 1.5 years of the Corona crisis I felt busy (at first), low, anxious, isolated and then kind of frozen. But as restrictions have been lifting, I've been a lot better, and I'm finally working in the physical realm again, offering my workshops and seeing clients in person rather than online. I now see how much of a difference it makes seeing the whole person and being in the same room with them. I've entirely stopped online workshops, as they tired me out so much. Staring into a screen for hours is just exhausting; and I don't think it's good for my eyes either. I'm still not my old self; something is missing. I think I'm feeling the societal division. Not only my own family is divided, but also my friends; and all of society too. I'm finding it very difficult to witness that. I also see so much suffering, confusion, anger, frustration. It permeates my world, and I'm sometimes finding myself in the middle between sides or holding back with my feelings and don't say what I believe. Of course everyone is different, and there is not only black and white. I guess we're all on the spectrum between the two poles. But these days it seems very important to check each other out, where one stands, before openness is even a possibility. All of this makes me feel sad and lonely. I feel judged by some of my closest family and friends and don't feel safe to be myself anymore. There's also a sense of internal change. I may not ever be my old self again. I do miss being light-hearted, silly and careless.

Living this boat life means I have more freedom than I would have living in a house; it means being part of a like-minded community of people who enjoy nature, the seasons, sitting by a fire, being satisfied with little money, stepping out of consumerism, sharing kindness, things and food. I'm so close to nature wildlife, and we have the most amazing views everyday. How precious is that. When I reflect on how life was before boating, we definitely did the right thing. We have no debts anymore, no credit cards, and we have very little to lose. I feel much freer than I ever did. The summers are definitely worth suffering the winters. And so far, everything has been working out well. I feel very grateful.

In a couple of weeks we'll drive to Germany and visit our one year old grand daughter. Finally. I can't wait. I really can't. We saw her last when she was a week old. I'm glad we'll be celebrating her birthday with the family. We've had a few video calls, and I believe she has kind of an understanding that we're somehow family, but of course she is far too young to understand that those people on the screen are her grandparents and have their own smell, and she has no idea how it feels to be around them. I'm so excited. She's growing up so fast. I feel sad that I'll miss most of her development. Well, it is what it is, and it doesn't help having these thoughts.

Just before we leave, we'll go back to our winter mooring. It feels like going home, and I look forward to being there again for 6 months. Spring and summer felt like an adventure, although we stayed in places for quite a long time. But still, it lacks the feeling of home. Funny, isn't it, as we have our home always with us, wherever we moor. But our winter mooring feels like home home, and we are lucky to have the most lovely, caring lock keeper, who feels more like a friend than a member of an authority. We love him and his family. A lot. Our neighbours too.

There's not much to say about the last year, really. No big news, no amazing stories to tell. We felt it was a disappointing summer, and we missed warmth and long summer nights. Looking back, it will go down as the summer of sadness, loss and yearning. Sure, we had good times as well. We just hope that winter will be kind to us, that the diesel heating will keep going alright, and that we can all breathe freely again soon. In the meantime, the only thing we can do is hanging in there and keep taking good care of ourselves, our family and community. I sincerely wish for us humans to remember (or find out) what we all have in common, and that we learn to respect our differences. Let's be kind to one another. I've noticed that I've been unkind a few times. And it troubles me very much. I really need to connect with my heart more, so that I can be sweet again. I guess I'm just super tired, suffering from insomnia since about August last year. I'm really not myself anymore. Hey ho. 

Here are some pictures from the last few months, in no particular order. Hope you enjoy them:
























07 September 2020

In The Flow

I know. It's been a loooooong time, again. I think I have some kind of blockage with regard to writing. Well - here I am, with some news and reflections about our recent ventures.

I just read through my last post, which was written on 17th February this year. Oh. My. God! Then I didn't know what was about to happen, just one month later: The Lockdown. Corona was already around, I now know, and I remember having a cold with quite a cough, which was over by the time we had to stay at home. Maybe I had it, maybe not. I certainly haven't had any symptoms since, for which I am eternally grateful. Ewan neither, fortunately.

So, we had to stay where we were, at the Winter mooring South of Oxford. A blessing. We absolutely loved it there, especially during the very wonderful April and May sunshine with our very lovely boating community that had started forming over Winter. We really were lucky, as we were always having a beautiful time and never felt isolated or truly locked down where we were. Many people walked past every day; some chatted, some didn't; but it just didn't feel lonely at all there. We were of course also able to go walkies without endangering other people, and we had a good excuse: Jack the dog. 

On 1st June the lockdown for boaters was lifted, and we coddiwompled further South (not without some drama at Abingdon Lock LOL). We found a beautiful field to moor at, and we stayed there till two days ago. We were surrounded by nature, had a post office and shop nearby, a car park as well, also a pub, but the best about that place was it being one of the most beautiful wild swimming spots in the country. And swimming we did - quite a lot. I can not easily put into words how much the wild swimming has given me. It was making me feel so alive and connected with myself and nature; I simply somehow just drifted into flow. God, I love being in wild water, and I can't wait to do it again next Summer.

We've had no glitches, no hiccups, all has been running smoothly, and we feel ever so proud of Coddiwomple. Our tin float is much loved now and even more appreciated. Gazing into the evening sun is always breath-taking, especially when it is reflected in the water and surrounding nature's scenery. It can only be described as magical. Having boaters, cows, sheep, waterfowl and other birds, insects and flowers as your neighbours is Living The Dream, certainly our dream. 

When Lockdown happened I stepped up and offered all my services online. Wow - what a journey that has been. I gained long-term one-to-one clients whom I support through the global pandemic, and I've been holding Family Constellations workshops on health issues every Saturday afternoon since. This virus has truly given me a bit of a kick in the backside and got me going. I guess, my response to a traumatic event (global pandemic) is being busy. So, somehow I was just very, very lucky. Ewan kept his job going all the time, as a so called key worker. Yes, the bridges in Oxfordshire have been looked after as thoroughly as ever; bless his and his colleague's cotton socks. 

I did feel a big dip in my mood, though, after all that business of the first 4 months, and I realised that even I had to somehow face the reality of this global crisis. Not as in suffering myself. But I've been definitely feeling the suffering of others and seeing much more clearly what the economical effects are. My heart goes out to all those who have been having a very difficult half year, and I truly wish that we will all pull together. It is community we all need, and it is technology that is helping us to stay connected.

We are now in a new place, a bit further North, mooring here and there on our way back to Oxford, which is the place we'll be moored at during Winter, again. We feel blessed to have such a wonderful Lock keeper who is always helpful and welcoming; always good for a chat and a laugh; and a real sport. We will very much miss the family who was locked down with us with their three-year old sunshine called Zeri. They have chosen to leave boat life and live on the land for a while. We are so grateful to have had these guys around during this most fantastic Summer (in terms of weather). Our Winter community is therefore going to be different, and I am looking forward to reconnecting with last time's peeps and meeting new lovely neighbours.

Life is good.

We're in the flow.

Our plan is to go to Germany for the whole of October, because my eldest daughter is becoming a mum for the first time. I'm so very excited to become a grandmother. I really hope we'll be allowed to go. As the numbers of infected are rising, our near future is quite uncertain, and we have to be prepared not to be permitted to travel. It would break my heart not to see my first grandchild in the flesh. But I won't be alone suffering from the consequences of another outbreak, and we'll just have to deal with reality as best as we can. We have a plan B, and if plan B doesn't work, then something else will come along and tempt us. A whole month on Coddiwomple would also be absolutely wonderful. I am very grateful for my life, and I'm very grateful for my Ewan.

Because the internet reception is shite in the current place, I will only upload one picture this time. If you want to see my pictures, you can follow "sparkling_silf" on Instagram.

Till next time,

Silvia x