Who'd a thunk it?

A week of Mabie forest's freshest of fresh air, bacon butties, mugs of tea and thinking about as little as possible and I'm feeling human again

Spotted outside one of Wigtown’s many bookshops

I don’t know why I’m surprised. I mean, a week in Mabie Forest, walks and talks fuelled by tea and bacon butties. Catching up with my cousins in Glasgow and listening to the 18-year-old’s eclectic music selections - Don McLean and Billy Joel via Lana del Rey and a little ska, plus doing as little as possible and guess what?

I’m feeling a little more like me.

And we’re only halfway through this Scottish retreat.

Seven days in Scotland. Forest and coastal walks, bacon butties and a trip to Wigtown, Scotland's book town

I’d recognised the tell-tale signs. Shallow breathing, my semi-permanent furrowed brow trying and failing to mask my brain whirring as it tried to figure out the right answers to everything from ‘what shall we have for dinner’ to client content strategies with menopausal brain freezes peppering most exchanges.

Whether I managed to hide it or not is another matter. A patch of angry eczema flared up under my right eye and I was bone tired. Bonkers. The pauses and circuit breakers I’d put in place only working momentarily, I could feel myself tightening and tightening.

Which is why this, all of this is so welcome. Immersing myself in nature’s soothing green. Looking up at huge expanses of sea and sky. Back to remembering my Pilates stretches and to breathe deeply, walking properly and reading all the books. A week of soothing the nervous system.

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I feel like I’ve freed up headspace which is helping me to work out what needs thinking about, what can be parked and what I can just let go so I can enjoy the day. Something that doesn’t always come easily.

Chatting with one of my sisters the other week she reminded me of our family’s tendency – in some parts at least – to introspection and melancholy. The word morose was used. We laughed remembering mum’s frustration when, in the early days of their marriage, dad would bring her a cup of tea in the morning - good - with a large side of the morning’s headlines – disasters, death and destruction his speciality – not so good.

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I’m not sure about morose but I know I (over) think and dwell on things. That I need to work at putting the intense stuff to one side and allow myself to recognise and enjoy all the good stuff. This face and body definitely needs to remember to relax a bit more.

And I guess in amongst all these thoughts is the fact that it was my 52nd birthday this week and I’m remembering the words I wrote all the way back in January about treading more lightly.

This year feels different. I know we’re only ten days in, but I’m taking each and every tiny, individual step right now and seeing it as exactly that. Something positive with no strings attached. For too long I’ve attached a huge importance and meaning to lots and lots of things. Holding on for dear life. But my grip is loosening and I’m cradling life, holding it lightly.
10 January 2023

And so we’ve had our final full day in Mabie, and it’s on to Nairn and the Highlands via Pitlochry. for another week of big sky and remembering to breathe deeply.

More anon, thanks for reading & here’s to treading more lightly , Harriet

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PS So pleased I saved Demon Copperhead for this holiday - such an engrossing, brilliantly lively read. I also bought a fair few books in Wigtown - no surprises there - so they should keep me quiet for a while!