I’ve bought a second hand very French bed, something I would have dreamed of wanting as a young woman – for our daughter, something of a project, it has a fancy name – a demi corbeille (or half basket, I’ve just learnt).

Like everything that I’m experiencing here in France, it’s not always as simple a task as it first appears. Even to collect the bed (a double) means hiring a van, which is a whole other story in itself.

Anyway, this week sees me begin the bed restoration project, because to be frank, although it is very beautiful, it’s covered in some old smelly pink velour and the wood is a tad brown for my taste, and not quite the French romantic fairy-tale bed of my dreams, or I’m guessing our daughter’s either.

Part one, I start (and at this stage I must point out, I’m no upholsterer – this is all a flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants restoration) with a flat head screw driver to remove what looks to me like a good km of round headed upholstery tacks, before I even consider removal of the fabric. All is going well, slowly, but well, until I very quickly revert to type and find myself trying to beat some invisible deadline, fighting with brute force the well embedded tacks and quite clearly as I also discover, doing so with the wrong tool, one sudden slip and I find I have managed to give myself the start of a ‘Glasgow smile’.

I stop before I manage to compliment the other side of my face.

Disappearing to the computer to order some tools online that look like they will do the job before my husband sees what I have done to my visage, and then set to learning even more patience as I wait two days for them to be delivered.

Today, joy of joys they have arrived. I find that one of the tools in a box of three has the ideal leverage to master these tacks. I make time to clear the space and set up properly before wielding the shiny new tool. Beginning slowly I find a rhythm to this process which becomes hugely satisfying, no longer a fight of brute force, allowing my thoughts to wander and in turn to gently connect to the stillness within.

I find there the comfort of Source, of Spirit, and we start to commune.

It’s in these moments of peace that the connection I have come to know arrives effortlessly. A terrain where information and guidance arrives for me, gently leading me further along my path with no urgency, rather a meandering, a conversation unfolds, similar to one you might have with a trusted friend who loves you unconditionally. We exchange, a flow back and forth and because it’s just me and the dog in the art studio I talk out loud and then listen (I must add here, it wouldn’t be a problem if my husband was there either, it could perhaps become confusing though, as he has sometimes thought I am speaking with him). I trust what I hear – I’ve learnt to. My imagination although active and vivid, couldn’t and wouldn’t dare to suggest some of the things that come through to me from Source.

My guidance today is both beautiful, exciting and a little stress inducing. I hear how I am to write, to share, to offer out into the world my stories of my experiences, my days, my creative makes and my takes on life as I continue to walk my own chemin.

I’m to set up a blog, yep, a blog, and at this juncture I can share that this will also include some video’s and pod casts once I have the equipment to make them.

To write and record what I see, hear and learn from the life I live, the path I walk, to share the way I experience my connection to Source, and if you’re here reading, listening or watching, then more specifically, to share them with you my dear one.

I wanted to ask “why?” of Source, but I have learnt from long experience not to ask, and that actually it’s not important to always know the ‘why’ of anything, it’s a distraction of a question that leads to just more questions, and then down the rabbit hole I would go…

So here I am, writing the thoughts from the day. My sacred contract to Source.

Making time in my day to do what I want to do, restore a bed for our daughter, connect to a romantic dream I once had, to create with my heart allows me to connect to Source, to Spirit. When I connect, I in turn feel supported, loved and empowered to move further along my chemin – my path, on a journey that continuously unfolds bringing me more of my true and higher self than I could ever imagine.

So this evening, I reflect a little and can clearly see and compare the creative process of restoration of the bed, mirroring the process to connection to Spirit, making the time and space, having the right tools, not pushing, and allowing a natural flow and rhythm.

I’m sure that this is just the first observation that will unfold in the project, so I’ll keep you posted!