Finding My Feet (and My Calm) Back Home

After six weeks of sunshine, movement and mindful living in Bali, I’ve been determined not to slip back into the habits I left behind. But this week’s been a bit of a reminder that change isn’t a straight line - it’s more of a wobbly, dick-shaped squiggle.

Earlier in the week, we celebrated me being home with a glass (or two) of fizz - lovely, simple, nothing wild. But the next day the old wine witch cravings crept in. Cooking has always been a trigger for me - the “wine while I stir the sauce and sing along terribly to loud music” habit that I found so easy to ditch abroad suddenly started whispering again.

I didn’t cave, though. A mix of “can’t be arsed to go to the shop” and “I really can’t waste the money” won over, and I settled with herbal tea instead and a cosy, early night 🌟

Later in the week, I was painting portraits at a wedding - for an old colleague I hadn’t seen since the early divorce days. The last time I’d been around that group was two years ago, right at the start of all the big, hard changes. Everyone was lovely and so kind, but seeing familiar faces stirred up a lot of feelings I didn’t expect.

And when I left? I went straight into fuck it mode.

I got home with a bottle of red, dinner was prepared (lovely!), I put on something daft on TV, and before I knew it the bottle was empty - along with half a bag of crisps and a couple of chunks of chocolate (I’m blaming pre-period hormones for that one though…) It was a pretty lovely evening by all accounts but the ‘treats’ I enjoyed, I reached for, for the wrong reasons. And this morning?

I woke up feeling rough (in every sense) and my watch confirmed it - solid one-star sleep after those near-perfect 8–9 hour sleeps in Bali.

FUCK.

What I realised

Going back to Cambridge is hard. It’s where a lot of old habits live, and this weekend I’ll be right back there - two days painting portraits at the Ely Apple Festival, then picking up Rei from the old house on Sunday night. That combination of long days, emotional places, and old patterns could easily trigger another “fuck it” spiral.

But I’ve taken the time to question my feelings and patterns around drinking and spiralling - and writing this has really highlighted a change in me:

I know what’s happening and more importantly, WHY.
I can see the loops forming instead of falling straight into them.

Previously, wine was my way to switch off - to fill the space (brain and literal), where I didn’t feel like I belonged or was worthy. Now I can see it’s not really about the drink. It’s about space.

I guess I’m feeling like I’m still in a bit of a limbo - not quite settled back into routine, not quite feeling “at home” anywhere - and that sense of not having my own safe, grounded spot makes it easy to reach for old comforts when my brain gremlins get a bit noisy. I think I need to find a way to carve out a small space again that feels more me: somewhere calm to paint, stretch, read, or just be. It’s tough now Buddy is in his Winter storage mode as normally a few days in him fills my cup! Maybe that’s why I’ve been daydreaming about pod studios and researching woodland for sale… something remote, creative, and mine.

Because a BIG thing I think I’ve realised from being away, is when I have a space that feels safe, familiar, and mine, I don’t reach for escape in unhealthy ways.

A little woodland wisdom

This morning, while feeling very “fragile but reflective”, I sat on the floor with my Woodland Wardens deck. I shuffled and spread them out, then Toby cat trotted over, sat by the spread, and put his paw near a card - so obviously, that was the one 🐈‍⬛

It was The Hare and Oak : New Opportunities (upright).
Then I noticed two others had popped out, and I’ve learned never to ignore the jumpers:

The Hawk and Thistle : Graceful Persistence (reversed)
The Caiman and Poppy : Dreams (upright)

After reading the notes for each and reflecting on recent goings on, it felt like the perfect trio for where I’m at:

🌿 The Hare and Oak reminded me that new beginnings can be gentle and rooted - I don’t have to sprint.
🪶 The Hawk and Thistle (reversed) nudged me to ease up when I’m tired - to rest, not quit.
🐊 The Caiman and Poppy whispered that my dreams are still growing beneath the surface - even when I can’t see the progress yet.

The message I’m taking into this weekend

🌿 I move lightly into new beginnings, rooted in what I’ve learned.
🪶 I don’t need to rush - grace grows slowly. I pause when I’m tired, not when I’m lost.
🐊 My dreams are taking root beneath the surface, and I am safe to rest, to feel, and to begin again.

Or, in short:
Ease up, not off.

That’s my take on it all anyway - through the market madness, the Cambridge emotions, and the long drive home. You might roll your eyes or wonder what the buggeryfuck I’m on with all this oracle card chat and deep thoughts about hares, hawks and caiman, and hey, that’s OK, this shit isn’t for everyone BUT if you got this far and you, like me, enjoy having a different way to view life and process emotions, I hope you found this post insightful and maybe inspirational.

I like to think this is a great reminder that, we don’t need to be perfect, just present 🌳