Ibiza – 6pm – night warmed … hug warmed … and a circle of women that talked about what we wanted from the week.

I wanted to crack – or rather, to be cracked – split – to somehow break … my spirit was tight; emotions held, fingertips gripping the side of a building …

My brain felt dulled, flat. J’étais dégonflée comme un vieux ballon … the ‘grey’ had become a part of me …

Anything beyond the every day felt like it was birthed through wet cement.

So I wanted to be split, because that was the way that I changed. Change needed to be blunt, brusque; it needed to be irreversible or at least have a finality about it.

I have always been slightly suspicious of anything  gentle. I preferred hard training, hard massage, clear messaging; all or nothing; black or white; either or

It needed to crack.

I thought that it needed to crack.

…

Turns out – change can be accomplished more gently.