30 Days of Fika Books: Six

I had the most gorgeous weekend. None of it had anything to do with writing one way or another, but it means I am feeling particularly fine-fettle and full-speed-ahead this morning. After last week’s state of dipping my-toe-in-it-all, this week is about getting properly stuck in and SENDING THE FIRST NEWSLETTER THIS FRIDAY!!


(I’m fairly sure that anyone reading this blog will be signed up already, but just in case: hurry if you’re not yet! Remember that you get a free Fika Book of your choice upon subscribing!)

On Friday night, I had a delicious yin yoga class followed by a sound bath. I’d had a bit of a faffy day on Friday, was running late and almost dithered on whether to show up, but I've long learned that I never regret the decision to force myself to yoga. Especially yin.


I used to have no patience for yin. As opposed to vinyasa which is more of a flow, yin involves sitting or lying in quite deep stretches for several minutes, so it's challenging for a fidgety personal like me. Plus it can be sore — in the way that a deep tissue massage is sore, but ultimately good, if that makes sense, so I tried it once or twice and filed it under "not for me." Then, I had no choice but to do loads of yin sessions as part of my yoga teacher training, utterly fell in love with it and now I’m addicted.


Same with sound baths. They just weren’t a thing that would be on my radar one way or another, and when I first heard that we were going to do one as part of the training, I thought it sounded a bit daft. Then I did it and slept like the dead for about a week (each night, you understand; not continuously). My general take on the spiritual side of it all is that I don’t really care whether I feel amazing because my energy channels are open or if it’s that vibrations are relaxing (much as babies fall asleep in cars): I just know that I feel amazing.


On Saturday morning I headed off to my first aerial hoop class in AGES. This time last year, with the world opening up again, I made a commitment to myself to actually sign up for and follow through on all those things I’ve ever vaguely loved the idea of. The deal was, I didn’t have to commit beyond that, but I had to actually do it once. Circus was one of the things that stuck. Not only is it a fab workout (as I type this on Monday morning my arms are still complaining), I find the playfulness deeply joyful. No matter how I feel while I'm driving there, I have never left an aerial class in a bad mood.


Spent the rest of Saturday mucking about, then headed off for dinner with my friend Kirsty. We went to 63rd & 1st which I highly recommend: fab atmosphere, great food and excellent cocktails. It was, as always with Kirsty, a wonderful, life-affirming and hilarious blether.


On Sunday I went to a charity Ladies Lunch in aid of the Glasgow Hospice. It’s an amazing charity that my dad has been involved in for a while, so I’ve been to a few of their events. Years ago, my brother and I attempted to paddleboard the length of Loch Lomond AGAINST THE WIND for them, and my entire family came down with “celebrity Covid” after an event in London last Christmas (the honest truth is that zero of Texas breathed anywhere near me, but I tell everyone I got it off them anyway).


I’m not sure if it was because it was Glasgow or all ladies — or both — but it was BUZZING. I got to see my dad die to the very depths of his soul as he was serenaded by a drag queen. I don’t want to name drop (I LIE!) but Lisa Snowdon is genuinely one of the warmest, loveliest people I’ve ever met, and it was hilarious witnessing John Hannah squirming to bits as the questions from the audience were nearly all from his teenage girlfriends asking if he remembered them. I won a stunning wallet in the silent auction and we finished off with the usual slightly violent scrum to Loch Lomond. It was brilliant.


So there we go. Monday morning, and I’m a bit sore, slightly hungover — and raring to go.


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