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It’s been nearly three months and my plans were to abandon this blog altogether as I’m feeling life has been way more inward lately, with less to share and more to meditate on. But then again, I always love to spill. Beans, tea, spilling over with words until I lose my voice or with love because my cup has been brimming with it. Spilling over I will!

So are you ready for a little one-sided catch-up? Monologue let’s go.

It’s been all over the place, this head of mine. The last time I wrote down bloggy words I was feeling low, anxiety kicking my ass big time. June smelled like overwhelm as I found myself suddenly without a job or income, my brains brewing with worry all night long.

But then healing in letting go occurred as I was dancing myself to pieces at Nowhere festival. Two weeks in the desert with funky music, sweet friends and delirious silliness might have been exactly what I needed. Sleeping in my tent under the full moon, blinking at the stars and collecting dust in every single pore of my skin connected me to nature in a way I hadn’t felt for far too long. And playfulness, so important and healing oh goodness gracious I mustn’t forget to put that on my medicine list next to St John’s wort and a good old ugly cry in the shower.

Not many of you may know this, but it’s really hard for me to cry. This past week I’ve cried more than I have this entire year. But we’ll get to that later. First, more summer sweetness!

I went to Paris for a divine night of wining and dining with one of my NZ besties and her daughter. They had come to France with one dream to tick off the bucket list: dance at Le Grand Bal. As I’m not particularly a big fan of folk dance, I had never planned on going if it wasn’t for these epic kiwis. The two-week festival felt more like a big family gathering, with grannies dressed their Sunday best, dancing every folk dance you can imagine. I ended up learning all the non-folk dances like contemporary, forró, tango, samba. I had a great time!

The third and last festival I went to this summer was a totally different vibe. On a hot August day, my love, his friends and I filled a car with dress-ups, glitter, psychedelic tunes and drove seven hours to the touristy little sister of Malaga, Torremolinos. The one and only reason we were there was Canela Party, a live music festival with a high dose of psychedelic rock. The last night is the big dress-up but there was such a strong stormy wind we were only allowed to enter the festival grounds after midnight. So the streets of Torremolinos were packed with people in crazy costumes, all this energy built up and exploded later at the King Gizzard concert. It was glorious.

After all of these festivals I was blessed to go and bliss out with my love and his family in their dreamy house by the sea. Spending so much quality time together has made us grow into big bubbles of love. Coming back home, the bubble burst as we realised our love is only growing stronger yet our future feels quite uncertain. So it’s the forever question of choosing to live in the here and now, soaking up all that delicious loving and sweeping future worries about practicalities under the carpet to deal with later. Or choosing to face the thing and leave behind the beauty and comfort of the present. There have been many tears but just like the excessive dancing they feel like medicine.

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