Muzu Creative

  My 75-year-old mother in-law takes cold showers. Every morning. Every day. I’m not talking about cool water, as in the hot water turned down low. I’m talking about NO hot water, the hot tap set to OFF! In she gets, all 45kilos of her, straight in to the icy water. Every morning, every day. It is winter here at the moment. The air is cold. I know for a fact that her home is freezing in the winter (Like mine) and as a pensioner I know she does not use a heater or air-conditioning to warm it. “Too expensive” she claims. However, in she steps to a wall of liquid ice, every morning, every day. Last week, over a cup of tea, we were talking about my health, her health and `feeling good’. I spoke of my usual aches and pains and of my unhappiness at the state of my physical being. I just don’t feel totally well anymore. I feel tired, stressed, overweight, achy and rigid.   “What you need is a cold shower” she calmly stated. I should have known this was coming, after all it

For the past couple of weeks, I have been bombarded with memories from the past. Not just the odd flash of recollection but vivid moments of “being back there”. A sensory assault of smells, touch and sight. I feel everything of those moments. I have been taken to some dark places and relived the feeling of those experiences, from so many years ago. 20, 30, 40 years ago, and I am right back there, fully in the moment. As you know, I have been slowly increasing my Iyengar yoga practice and this may be the cause of this re-hashing of the past. Yoga does unravel you, layer after layer. At the same time, I have also been trying to re-invent myself, or rather return to myself after years of just going through the motions of my life. In any case I seem to be clearing out my mind, just like the wardrobe I cleared out last week, only without any seemingly deliberate intention. Not all memories have been confronting, some have been joyous, all have been interesting. A couple of

For days now, weeks maybe, I have been slowing sinking. The soft slowly moving sands of doubt, fear and guilt have been pulling me silently into the abyss. Anger and frustration have given way to uncertainty and feelings of hopelessness. What is it you want me to do? I ask outwardly and inwardly.   I have sacrificed. I have committed myself to a life of authenticity. This meant giving away the props and curtains of the stage I had made for myself. No more costumes to hide behind, no pretending. I would follow my heart. Truthfully. I would not work at a job I hated, just because I happened to be good at it. I would not dress in clothes that hid my personality, even though the clothes I choose are not fashionable or new. I would not do for others, simply because I felt it was my job to do so, or because that is what you do if you love someone. I would love myself first. I would take care of me the way I took care of others…unconditionally. It felt good. No, not good…FANTAST