River, pool and late night lake
And finally: a steamy bathtub. Major dependency pattern (shifting) in between summer chill, self doubt and making friends with the absence of a sleep schedule.
Picture from a hot summer day, when even the evening doesn´t offer relief from the temperature and all you want to do is to immerse yourself in water. So we went, my dad, Sean, Fynn and me. In a dark velvety blue crowned by a turmeric peachy sunset at 10pm. The lake I used to play at as a child.
We have just returned from almost a month in Germany, visiting my family near the Black Forest, house sitting my brother´s home - cats and pool included, and an ice cube making freezer!
I have to say, as much Fynn loves splashing around, I don´t need a pool. There is a reason I named my son Fynn River Eoin, because: flowing waters for the win. No chlorine, ph testing and algae cleaning everyday (which to be honest, I only done once, so I can´t complain about that. Sean might).
Since last year December we have been moving houses, travelling, airbnb letting, camping and gotten pretty used to the change of sheets and bed frames. Fynn is great in adapting and rarely has trouble sleeping. That is, when I don´t expect it from him.
I once heard a mother say that babies don´t sleep when you want them to but as soon as you accept the fact that you need to rearrange your day schedule, the often drift off.
That stuck with me and I since tried to release the pressure about sleep schedule, fixed nap times or wake windows (my least favourite alliteration of all time). And still, I am a first time mom, a self-employed working mom, the main financial provider mom. Shit´s gonna get done. And I am not yet in the trust of flow as some second time moms are. I see them and get it, but don´t embody it yet (because, only one child so far). Needless to say, changing homes, changing time zones, changing rhythms of course changed sleeping patterns. And despite rationally comprehending it, it took me by surprise.
Not the absence of a sleep schedule, but my reaction to it. My daily dose of “but he needs to sleep now”, “look, he is tired” and - the Endgegner - “he woke up again (after snoozy breastfeeding for 30min)”.
My insecurity. And the expectations (mine or from others/society/instagram) about how it should be best. And the worry about how it is going to work in a months time when I start a part time work and can´t be as flexible anymore as I am with my online and ceremony work.
Then I realised, that I anticipated a scenario that has not yet arrived. And that here in the now, everything is fine and actually working alright. Yes I might be up doing admin at 1am but due to the summer heat I didn´t want to sit on the laptop during the day anyway. My brain actually worked well in the cool breeze and quiet night time.
So, I started to befriend the absence of a sleep schedule. As soon as I worried or expected a different nap time, I told myself that bedtime rituals can always be implemented once we get back to Glastonbury or find a more permanent home (we are looking for a place from 1st November, hints and shares very welcome). Allowing.
Life update in the meantime: My new part time teacher role got postponed and work hours got shifted to fit around Fynn´s naps! So no need to spend my precious time with worrying about the future that was about to change anyways.
Additionally I am fully breastfeeding again after an initial period of daily portions of solids. As soon as we landed in Germany he refused most foods except for fruits and Bretzel and the occasional spaghetti, possibly because of a teething phase which lasted almost three weeks and had me worry about his nutritional intake (and my never returning period).
Again I got to surrender and challenge myself to trust. Us, my child, myself. Nature. I heard myself talking about us needing a routine to my friends and how that would help with regular mealtimes and sleep and, really mostly my headspace. Here they are again, them expectations! As soon as I became aware of them, I lowered them. And looked at the facts: we are well, healthy and content.
Growing, teething, not bleeding.
Of course I want my cycle back to create another baby one day but until then, why not honour my body´s wisdom? And enjoy watching our life unfolding in the way it is blooming for us now! Instead of trying to control and manage what wants to be liberated.
I finally felt at ease with not having a routine. And synchronistically we were meeting friends or did activities in times when Fynn was awake and he slept when we were driving or sat down for a cacao. The key really was lowering expectations, being present and grateful for the organic nature of things and surrendering to the unknown, the not knowing and unplanned. Which is part of my work ethics, and I´m passionate about holding myself accountable for this one!
But of course I am still being caught up by self imposed restrictions or expectations of trying to control which take me out of the moment. The more aware I am about them, the easier they get to navigate.
A big part of the Germany trip for me was about seeking bodies of water and confronting my dependency patterns. Through a triggering situation with a friend I could finally see my people pleasing tendencies crystal clear. And looking at this behaviour of mine, I could identify the underlying fear.
I shared this process and resolution in my previous Substack articles:
I stumbled across an honest and funny (goes to show my humour is very much “be real and you will have enough to laugh” kinda humour) article by Alex Dobrenko who summed up my pain:
And believe it or not, he didn’t apologize. He didn’t even know I was upset, which hurt even more than the incident itself -- a classic case of “it’s not the crime, it’s the cover up.” which is a legal term for all my fellow lawyers and detectives.
Oh yes. Here we are. I don´t necessarily like conflicts, but I see the beauty in them as they get unravelled. Deeper love and mutual respect growing from engaging in tricky situations and accepting disagreements as ways to create more emotional maturity and inclusivity in a diverse world.
But I hate misunderstandings. I hate cover ups. And I know the word hate gives me reason to work a little more on my own judgement.
But let me be imperfect for a moment.
You can see how I can cause distress in the UK, the country of polite cover ups (“how are you?” - “FINE; how are you?” Why are we asking this question? Because we like the word fine so much that we want to hear it ten times a day?). German deep diving unsettles the surface of seemingly calm British waters. And it takes open minded people that are willing to question their status quo and do it differently than their family did before them to engage with me. When they do though they learn that I am in for the long run. Loyal and unconditionally loving. Underneath my very human conditions and honest discernment!
When you engage with me in a transparent way, I will be your trusted friend no matter the incongruent behaviours you have. On the contrary when you try to cover up your shit I will call you out on it. And then sit in my corner, afraid I wont be loved anymore. Oh, Alanis Morissette singing in my head. Apart from my process of accepting the injustice of this world, I also got faced with my self-doubt and fear of not being accepted in a certain crew or group. But this one I will write about another time.
Besides all this inner work, my outer work was writing, admin, creating new course content for my Cacao Dieta and upcoming Avalon Immersion and I loved doing my bits on the sunny balcony of my mom´s city apartment and from the improvised bed side table at night, next to a sleeping (finally at 9:30pm) Fynn.
And daytime was exploration time! Cycling to a nearby coffee shop, alongside a stream (burn, they call it in Scotland), to the playground and a sunset walk through corn fields.
My sisters 44th birthday (she is 11 years older than me), lots of touching moments spent with my nephews and watching them play with their 6 years younger cousin. Sounds like a math equation, now tell me, how old is my brother?
Dinners with my mom, breakfasts with my dad and lunches with my grandmother.
Waterfall bliss in the Black Forest - did we have Black Forest Gateau? Oh yes, one time! But we enjoyed the chocolate mousse cake even more.
Arriving back in Glastonbury, UK, the rain comes and with it a beautiful hot bath.
And, guess what: A whole week of my son napping once a day, during specific times with bang on bedtime at 7pm! He has created his own schedule as soon as we landed back home. What a legend.
