Persephone in Perimenopause in the Pandemic in Granada

As my bleeds spaced out, I found myself struggling in every single area of my life.

I was burnt out, overwhelmed and vulnerable.

I clung to nature like a life raft.

I was literally floored by my perimenopause and I clung to nature like a life raft. I found it necessary to lie on the earth for hours on end and watch the ants closely, like I did as a toddler, only this time the ants were transporting fallen pomegranate seeds.

I became mesmerized by the pomegranates surrounding me here in Spain and I started spending my days amongst the pomegranate trees, eating them, playing with the jewel like seeds and photographing them, obsessively.

I have taken many hundreds of photos of pomegranates over the years.

Whilst this pomegranate obsession is still a bit of a mystery to me, I do see that it ‘brought me to my senses’.

I read the myth of Persephone over and over and, when I found myself lying belly down on the earth, I would imagine that somehow my heart and soul was being opened and operated on by the technicians of the underworld

These deep and intricate operations woke me up to the fact that the ‘too tight’ life that I was living was beginning to smell deadly, something about my connection with these red seeds has enabled me to say ‘No!’, ‘Stop!’ and ‘That is ENOUGH’ and also more recently: ‘THIS is who I am’

I delight in this.