Arles, France

In the shade of a fig tree in the Theatre Antique

Yeeks, man...feeling rather rough- or maybe not rough - more tired than anything. A night of chills and heat, that feeling of not being able to bear having even a sheet covering my body even when cold, together with a banging headache. And constant dreaming, very weird dreams when I did sleep. And this morning my little netbook was struggling. Sure sign that there has been an upgrade in energy.



Today is a day of doing nutin' - for me anyway. I still have a background headache, but nothing I can't cope with...and I've had worse. Hubby is out clearing the garden and complaining about the heat, while I sit in the shade, writing. Haha...he just came in gleaming with sweat and said maybe I should write a book called Forty Shades of Green!

Theatre Antique

Yesterday we spent the day at Arles. It is another medieval city (France is full of them) that has been well preserved and much of it dates from 40 BC.


There is the amazing Theatre Antique and Amphitheatre - both of which are still being used, but much of it is held together with steel rails.

As we were walking around the Amphitheatre I started to feel weak and my legs were shaking. I tuned in wondering why I was feeling the way I did.

Amphitheatre

Hah...bullfighting. I turned around and saw a poster advertising the next fight in mid October. Oh dear. So I cleared the collective energy of fear, anguish, pain, suffering and despair, amid the bloodlust of those watching.


These days I don't really write much about the experiences that I have because it's become so normal, it doesn't warrant mentioning. I lay the intention to transmute if necessary and let that part of me that knows what it is doing to get on with it. But yesterday was an exception and I needed to be conscious of what I was doing and actually take part physically.

We stopped for lunch in the shadow of the Amphitheatre whilst I cleared, rested and replenished with food and drink.

A family of three generations arrived at the restaurant. Mom and Dad with their three grown children, their spouses and the grandchildren. I thought how wonderful to go on holiday together - and then realised we used to do that.

Every year my mom and stepdad used to come over from South Africa to spend 5 months here in the north. They'd arrive and spend some time with us and then get their caravan and car and go off to Europe to explore it. We would drive out and meet them wherever they were for approximately 3 weeks over the summer holidays. Because of them we had the most amazing holidays. These came to an end when our daughter left and my stepdad became too ill to travel.

It was that day that I realised how much I miss this and made me feel rather sad. Although I must admit that there were several occasions when hubby and I thought it would be really great to holiday on our own, just the two of us...and here we are experiencing that.

Watching Aida in Verona

The Theatre Antique must have dredged up memories too, although I was unaware until later, of the time we attended an Aida opera at the Verona amphitheatre in Italy with my mother and stepdad and our kids.

It was an amazing spectacle - you cover the hard seats of rock with your blankets and pillows to make it comfortable so when the children want to, they can go to sleep. While watching the opera you eat your picnic and drink your wine. Italians love their opera as much as they love children and candles are lit and waved for certain songs making the whole experience very interactive and heart opening.
 

Back to yesterday -

The steam baths are so badly degraded that they can only assume what they looked like as there are only the outer walls still standing and a few lumps and bumps of 'something'...and then there was the Cryptoportiques - the 'City of the Dead' - which is where it happened again.


As we were walking down the crypt lined avenue, I wondered, not for the first time, why I have this 'thing' about ancient Roman sites and cities.

Watching Aida in Verona

At the end of the avenue was a round roofed building. Beautiful, but very creepy - which is the first thing I thought when I walked in. Ah well, whatever needs clearing will be cleared.

Hubby in the avenue of the 'City of the Dead'

I don't consciously clear for the collective anymore, as working on myself has taken top priority this last year. For many a year, wherever I travelled I would clear the area.

One occasion springs to mind where I experienced something similar, although this time was not quite as difficult. We went to Ypres, a strategic town that was flattened during World War 1. There is a huge war memorial in memory of those that fell. I got so horribly involved in the clearing that I lost hubby...or rather he lost me as we could not find each other. I was so hellishly involved in the fear, anger, despair, pain, suffering and anguish I had no idea where I was and wandered around trying to find my way back to 'normal' reality whilst being bombarded.

That was the scariest experience I've ever had. Talk about being thrown in at the deep end!

This time I think I handled it rather well when nudged into doing the clearing of the collective, as I did not experience anything anywhere near as bad. Seems like I've become a dab hand at this...although my body may beg to differ this morning. The main difference is that through the whole experience I was told to mostly hold everything in my heart and love it...love it constantly as there should be no pushing to change...simply loving acceptance that will allow the changes to be made - if wanted.

So on to the dreams - they were all jumbled. Much of it involved lawyers, contracts, fox cubs, wolves and really weird happenings which reminded me of Shakespeare's play Midsummer Night's Dream.

I also knew that I was on the set of a TV soap opera and that what was happening was not 'real'. I was really surprised at the turn that the soap drama was taking and wondered what the writers were thinking when they wrote the script.

We went out for dinner last night. I found myself sitting next to a web full of spiders which fascinated me. Every time I touched it by mistake, which happens cause I use my hands a lot when I talk, I'd see a movement out of the corner of my eye as one of the spiders would come running over, then retreat when it realised that I was rather large prey.

Hubby pointed out that my hair is rather like a web, so it is appropriate that I am sitting next to one to show them how it is done! My hair gets everywhere - we find white strands all over the place even on him or the plants or in the garden...probably everywhere else too that I've not noticed. Hubby says I cast my web far and wide :-)

Loadsa symbolism that I have yet to figure out, which I might eventually do.

Oh yes...I bought myself a bag made from Basque linen, dyed naturally and 'ecologically' as the French describe it. This country is definitely embracing the concept of renewable resources. Most houses being built have solar panels on the roof and the local supermarkets have undercover parking made from large tracts of solar panels.

Outside shop after my purchase

I've been meaning to get a new bag as the one I currently have caused all kinda problems in Australia last year as when it went through scans, they told me they'd seen razors in the seams!! They emptied everything out and sent it through the scan about 5 times, 6 officers standing around watching it as they discussed what the 'shadows' could be. Eventually they decided it was merely the way it had been sewn and let us go.

Yikes, man - my life flashed before my eyes.

Fooled 'em, eh? My alter ego the terrorist!! :-)