Today was boat moving day!

I put off moving for far longer than I should - yesterday should have been the day, but I made an excuse (it was too sunny, a day like that should only be meant for lounging on the deck with a big sun hat and a book - which is exactly what I did!)

I should skip back a bit in case anyone is wondering what the fudge I'm talking about - in July of last year, I sold my house, most of my worldly possessions (not the cats, art equipment or my collection of crystals though, obviously) and moved onto a widebeam boat, which I now inhabit as I bob along the Grand Union Canal.

My boat is beautiful - and a bit of a tardis - I was looking at her today as I operated the lock and thought "she really doesn't look that big" but when you get inside, you realise how much space there is - I have a pretty big kitchen, a lounge area with a big desk dedicated to my art studio, and a dining table, plus a bathroom with a big corner shower, and a great sized bedroom and a king sized bed (which is very high and requires a step for me to get into it, as I am very short.)

My gorgeous boat, the Pol Roger, looking a little imposing from the front!

Anyway, I digress.

I put off moving the boat - because I give myself SUCH anxiety about moving. I may THINK she looks small but then when I'm having to run across and open both sides of the lock, or trying to pull her 30 tonne ass into the side to pin her as I moor up, I realise how big she really is. She takes up space, she's solid, and she's safe. And I love her greatly (I don't particularly love her name though, and I don't think she does either!)

One of the major hurdles I had to get over mentally for this move was having to move through a swing bridge - I really wish I'd taken a photo or some footage of the experience, as I might never go through another, and I'll never have another first time. I'd been so worried about pissing off the motorists who would have to wait for me to operate the bridge, get back on the boat, putter through, tie back up on the other side, then come back and close the bridge.

But I found that as I approached the bridge I found myself feeling a deep sense of calm. I had been reciting affirmations to myself for the trip prior (a short hop of just 1 mile and 2 locks) - affirmations such as "I am so grateful that I have this wonderful life" and "I am so grateful that I can deal with any situation with grace" - and that's exactly what I did. My maneuvering was spot on today (yay, go me!) and there was something incredibly empowering about having the ability to stop traffic with the push of a button, to see an entire bridge swing around just to allow me passage.

As someone who has struggled to take up space for most of my life - unless I am comfortable with the people I am with - it really was such a powerful moment for me - I didn't feel guilty about stopping traffic. No shame for taking up space. I wasn't rushing, or simpering and apologising to the waiting traffic - they knew they were approaching a swing bridge and that there would be a chance that it could be open - and I absolutely have a right to open the bridge in order to continue on my journey, as much as they have a right to continue theirs.

I had planned to move along another lock after, but as luck would have it, there was a spot

available just after the bridge, and I had the luxury of tying up using metal rings instead of having to hammer a pin into the ground (which absolutely finishes me off at the end of a cruise!) and not a moment too soon, as the heavens opened as I finished tying my last line, and it's still raining cats and dogs as I type! My mum insists that I send her pictures of my mooring spot so she can feel closer to me and knows where I am (she tracks me on google maps too!) - this is the image that I sent her just as I moored up, and you can see that the sky is heavy with the promise of a downpour. You can also see Winkwell swing bridge in the distance!

I can only stay on this spot for 48 hours, but it will give me a chance to recover (locks are hard work!) walk along to see what the mooring is like up ahead (I'm told it's lovely!), and perhaps I'll treat myself to a visit to the pub that's adjacent to the swing bridge, so that I can revel in my achievement a little longer by staring at the bridge out the window.

As I reflect on the weeks leading up to using the swing bridge - the tension, avoidance, anxiety, negative mental chatter about how it would be too hard, that I'd feel embarrassed, etc - I can see how powerful it has been for me to truly stay in the moment, stay grounded, calm, and act with grace and efficiency rather than rush to please other people.

It's so easy to get swept up in something that hasn't or never will happen. It can take over our entire life, because it feels so big and seems to expand to take up all available space and brain computing power. It really is true that the buildup to doing a thing is always far worse than doing the thing - I feel like the nemesis that was the swing bridge is the canal equivalent of making a telephone call or a job you've been putting off for weeks, only to do it and find out that it was the easiest, least stressful thing in the world!

Overall, this really has been a lesson for me in mindfulness - taking moments to actually root myself in reality rather than the fantastical fiction of my fickle mind. I think my subconscious has been trying to get me to realise this for the last few weeks, as was called to paint these little watercolour flow pieces that I named Mindful Moments. Perhaps if I'd heeded the message a few weeks ago, I'd have been less agitated by the prospect of continuing my journey!

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/d76fb9_e165f9bbb9a24d3bb3534ece8060e2b8/480p/mp4/file.mp4

Mindful Moments - 22 small watercolours capturing the flow state that results in calming the mental chatter.

These pieces really represent a transition for me - from anxiety to calm. Internal chatter to stillness. The flow state achieved when you can truly be here, now - because it's really the only place we can ever truly exist - the past is gone and the future is simply a fiction until we get to it.

I'll be releasing these pieces very soon - hopefully one of them is calling to you to bring it home, and have yourself a reminder of what it's like to exist in the moment instead of outside of it.

Until next time,