The height of summer is upon us, upon me. One and a half week left of work until vacation commences, and yet, the only thing I can think of is my need to winter. Invites to go there, come here, join us, plan this, let’s do that, have been gently turned down. Saying Thank you, and I know I am welcome, and I might well come, but I just cannot commit to anything right now.

Naked woman crouching down in shrubbery, on a foggy summer morning at dawn.
Me, seen by Mama Blackbird. At dawn, Brösarps Backar, July 2022.

I don’t want to fill my calendar…
But it goes beyond want.
I cannot fill my calendar.
I need, deeply, to Be. Not Do.

Not doing anything other than the bare minimum.
Aim to turn off social media and most – all? – things digital, going analog.


Giving my soul a chance to catch up with myself.
Process all the events of the past year.
Work. Worry.
Disease. Death.
Grief. Gratitude.

And then, Mama Blackbird sung a song of Twilight, and my soul rose to the surface, saying Yes please. That. I want that. I need that!

So now I’ve got a Blackbird-session pencilled in, during my vacation. A bare necessity. And perhaps that’s it? The bareness of it. Actually going naked, shedding protective layers of clothing and responsibility, of roles to play and shoes to fill…

Stripping bare, being seen.
As nothing more, and nothing less, than that which I am.
In presence.
A reminder to Stay.