On heatwaves, helping friends, and finding wonder close to home
Hello friend,
It has been a very warm week here, we've been talking about the weather even more than usual - which in England is a lot, even when the weather isn't dramatically reminding us that we have done something horrid to the climate.
This heat is the sort of weather where even the simplest tasks seem to require more energy than they should, and where I find myself drifting towards shady spots and cold drinks with increasing determination (I have been making water kerfir thanks to the gift of some grains - I didn't think I would like it, but I do surprise myself even at 54 sometimes).
I don't know about you, but I always find this point in the year slightly disorientating. Part of me is delighted by the long evenings and the abundance of summer. Another part is wondering where all my focus has gone and why my brain appears to have melted into a small puddle somewhere.
It's been a busy week, too.
Last Sunday was Urban Wild on the Common, which was lovely. There is something deeply heartening about seeing people gathering outdoors to connect with nature, creativity, community and each other. The world can feel very fragmented at times, so I find myself increasingly grateful for these moments where people come together around something joyful. We have SoGreenFest coming up on Saturday, if you are in Southampton, which is going to be wonderful.
Alongside that, I unexpectedly had to cancel our regular Moving Voices poetry night to support one of my chosen family through a medical scare. Everything is okay, but it has been one of those reminders of how quickly life can shift and how important friendship, care and showing up for one another really are.
Friendship had already been on my mind this week, as something I am exploring quite deeply with my therapist.
I wrote a piece this week about friendship, specifically the painful friendship rifts that can happen to neurodivergent people, and what my expectations for friendship are these days. It is a bit raw, but I think important to share - it is something I know many of us carry a lot of hurt about.
I also wrote a piece on the JourneySpiral Substack about small magic - the kind that lives in noticing.
The damselfly over a pond. The first ripe strawberry. A conversation that arrives exactly when you need it. The friend who sends a message at the right moment. The patch of shade beneath a tree on an impossibly hot day.
The older I get, the more I think this sort of magic might be the important kind, just like the friendships that face the difficult conversations and notice the small magic with you are the ones worth keeping.
As always, ND Art Club continues to be a place for making things, noticing things, and remembering that creativity doesn't have to be productive to be worthwhile.
If you've been feeling a bit tired, a bit distracted, or a bit overwhelmed by the heat and the pace of everything, please consider this your reminder that rest is also part of the work.
The garden, after all, knows when to grow and when to pause (right now it is growing at a pace I can almost watch in real time - a lot of my life is mortal combat with bindweed right now!)
We can always learn something from the garden, I find.
Spiral inward, create outward
Jez
A quick reminder that it is Neurodivergent Art Club on Zoom on Thursday from 2 - 4pm. Arrive late, leave early, we'd love to have you there!
It is fine to leave your camera and mic off if you can't people today but would like some company. Just say hello in the text chat.