Amsterdam Dreams.


I sit naked, dipping my feet in the salt infused scorching bath focusing my energies in easing myself into burning waters. I use whatever oils I have left and tease my feet to see how much of the scald I can handle. It feels good. Fresh, alone, patient. My newly tattooed thigh has struggled with my underwear all morning and now the pain softens. I’m relaxed but focused on new projects and how to fund such a busy year. My body weakens under the water. I’ve filled it to the brim and float in a meditative state, observant of the room around me. The shower curtain is stained pink from dye, a dozen exotic soaps piled on the window sill and burned out tealights scatter the room. It’s half painted. Unfinished. Yet I have a million ideas and not enough time.

Time isn’t precious at all, because it is an illusion. What you perceive as precious is not time but the one point that is out of time: the Now. That is precious indeed. The more you are focused on time—past and future—the more you miss the Now, the most precious thing there is.

– Eckhart Tolle

Last night my child returned. I know this scene all too well. He won’t sleep unless his nose is pressed up against mine, staring up at me with those eyes, an indescribable shade of blue with blonde imperfect circles around his pupils. The exact eyes of my Mother and Grandfather. Perhaps this is how I start my posts as it’s a normality at the end of long days. Or perhaps it’s the fact  their aren’t enough words to  describe my idea of heaven. With him. His body half the length of mine, tugging at my ears for comfort and staring into my soul. The only difference is through the mesh curtain tonight it’s blue skies and the sound of birds rather than silence and stars. I hold him and thank whatever Goddess delivered his soul to mine for his fire, his strength.

Summer seems to wake my spirit, bringing my mind back to life.I’m a Summer baby, due on Summer Solstice but two days late. I feel restless, busy, manic and wild. Unable to capture every moment I’m refusing to let my mind forget. Feeling mindful and appreciative. I haven’t been this happy for years. Shining. We call my old love and congratulate him on finishing University and for any distraction to avoid sleep. Noah giggles to his Father down the phone and kisses my forehead. Right now, there is nothing else in the world. He loves me and I him and in these bed time moments, we are rulers of the Universe.

Things got bad, then really bad. So on a weekend when Noah was with his Father, I took my soul sister and ran far. To Amsterdam. We jumped in a taxi and as soon as the plane landed on foreign soil, Haworth never existed. Not even an apocalypse could have touched us. We ran around the city finding adventures and wondrous sights, running fast, our skins browning, the Sun radiant, agreeing with our current choices.

I feel glitter in my veins and passion reforming behind my eyelids. Like a creature let loose, I am invincible. “You nourish the earth and the earth nourishes you”, so right now I respect, love and appreciate the world around me, as it’s reforming my wondrous light.

Saturday we bought wooden tulips from a florist by the canal. Sun strong, we were protected by huge sunglasses and flowing skirts. We were approached by party of gentlemen who asked us to join them for a walk and coffee, as to which we did. Leaving the coffee house slightly more giggly than when entered, I kiss my girl and we walk for miles around the canal and shops with our new friends. We find a spot shouting to the boats as they pass, eating blueberries, grapes, drinking sweet ciders and playing in the Summer heat. What an utterly beautiful, simple day. We thank our friends and eventually leave them, promising to return to them at six to play on the waters.

We wander, laugh, enjoy and head back to our hotel to change. Half an hour later than planned we head out in the evening sun and find our new friends waiting on a narrow boat with bottles of wine. We played on that boat till 3am and had a spectacular evening. I remember sitting on the front tip with my feet feeling the water as we moved. I felt the water escape my fingers and watched the sun turn orange, reds and pinks. I sat dazed unable to say much for a short period of time. What I was experiencing was pure. We float under the arched bridges into the perfect circular lights reflecting in the calm waters, drifting into another world. Sat in my bikini, drinking sparkly, fingers and toes dancing through the ripples as the boat sways forward. She curls herself around me and whispers sweet nothings into my ear. She tells me of how she never wants this moment to slip through her fingers and their is no way of fully capturing it. I remind her to indulge in the present moment and not let it slip away by trying to cage it in pictures and frustration. A single picture may remind you but only remind. In that moment itself, we are blessed.


Their aren’t enough words to truly make you understand the pure magic of that evening. We booked our flights on Wednesday and by Friday we had escaped for a short while. We bought roses to give out in the Summer days, to remind women of their beauty and make men blush. On our boat, we made a stop for more wine. Hanging the large bulbs of fairy lights wrapped in a tree and securing the ropes I was led in hand off our vessel. We entered an expensive restaurant on the canal front with Champagne flowing freely and a jazz band entertaining the ears of the rich. A waiter in black tie led us to the powder room where a DJ spun vinyls and free mints were offered at the sinks. We entered the cubical together and laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. I kiss her face and once we are sorted, return to our new friends.

But all too soon we were on a flight back to our reality. We vowed we’d return in the Summer for another evening with our Amsterdam darlings. I feel the need for a constant escape to the unusual, the beautiful. I want to go to Italy this Autumn alone. Take a week to learn to dance, see beautiful cities and read. It’s a perfect break.

I refused to immediately accept my return so stayed with my darling in Manchester for a night. I was a tired state with sore eyes but was well looked after. He studied and I read under a blanket in his living room. Dosing off after such a strangely fascinating weekend. We eventually retired to bed but I could not sleep. Through the bay window, the streetlights cast a movie of shadows on his perfectly still back. His muscles sculpted and stone as the branches and foliage pattern his skin. I watch my own body, battered and bruised from determination not to be defeated and as a contrast, self loathing. I’m learning though, always learning. But I’m ready now, for anything.

Some have wondered why I took her back. As time has passed I should have trusted my gut. I’m too loving, too forgiving and some people never change. You always realise sooner or later. Still, what wonderful memories.

Mother, Wanderluster, Believer.


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