As someone with strong introvert tendencies, who spends a lot of time alone, the importance of getting outside is a discipline I must remind myself of every day.
I love the freedom of working alone, the being able to set my own pace, set my own timetable and balance it against the needs to my small family. Not a day goes by that I am not thankful that this allows me to be the mother and wife that I want to be.
But working alone comes with it’s challenges. Getting so engrossed in your work, or so busy that I forget to eat, forget to go outside for a walk, to sit in the garden and feel the rare sunshine on my face. As is forgetting how to talk to an adult after spending the day alone, sometimes with the kids and the dog for company, but mainly just those weird days when you’ve forgotten how to have a conversation. Sometimes when my poor husband gets home he’s greeted by grunts and a monosyllabic wife, consumed with the thoughts that have been racing round my head all day because there’s no one to interrupt them, or tell her to chill out, stop worrying, it doesn’t matter.
It’s in those silent days in the studio that the thoughts can take a hold and before you know it set a pattern for your mood for the whole day. A mood taking hold that wasn’t there in the morning when you were woken by a sleepy eyed baby, arms outstretched high for warm morning cuddles.
This is why I like this poem, a reminder to go outside. Get out and remember that the world is bigger than my small studio, silence those silly thoughts that take hold, that chance meeting with the postman or a neighbour to practise speaking to other adults. A reminder to pause, to take a moment in the day to rest, to find a little peace, to realign myself. A reminder that most things can be blown way with a fresh breeze and birdsong.