{"id":1797,"date":"2023-10-15T13:59:25","date_gmt":"2023-10-15T13:59:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1797"},"modified":"2023-10-15T13:59:31","modified_gmt":"2023-10-15T13:59:31","slug":"open-chakras-second-class-delivery","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/open-chakras-second-class-delivery\/1797\/","title":{"rendered":"Open Chakras: Second Class Delivery"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The postmistress had a bad reputation and specialised in being irritable with everybody. She was perhaps in her fifties, but almost of a geological age. You were put in mind of a slab of granite behind the serving hatch in the corner of the mini-supermarket. Her face was stony, her resentment hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018NEXT!\u2019 she barked from behind her counter. \u2018First or second? Put it on the scales. ON them, not under them. Where\u2019s it going? WHAT? Gib-raltar?\u2019 She pronounced the word as though it were the most awful place on the planet. Then she forked the parcel off the scales with a plump paw, eyeing her customer in the manner of a prison guard with a felon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

            The regulars, as they waited in the queue, sometimes considered where her rudeness came from. She\u2019d been a slim red-haired teenager who once worked in a factory canteen. Somebody claimed he\u2019d actually seen her chuckling with the workers over dollops of mashed spud, and chatting jollily to one and all as gravy slithered from her silver ladle. Impossible! It must\u2019ve been a look-alike, surely?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Another notion was that she\u2019d been swept off her feet by a sweet-nothings spouting, empty-skulled dolt. Years of trying to make ends meet for her and her kids ensued, since the dolt had an aversion to employment. The smile from the canteen days was replaced by a sneer which had practically got sewn into her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Nonsense! She\u2019d been cursed: simple as that. Her body\u2019s energy centres needed clearing, Diana had told her. Diana described herself as a healer. You\u2019ve a blocked chakra around your navel. You\u2019re holding your traumas there. They must be released. Come along on Sunday to the park: mindfulness in nature. So she had. Ten women, picking up seeds, really feeling <\/em>them, picking up leaves, experiencing <\/em>them. \u2018How are you emotionally responding to what you pick up from nature\u2019s bounty?\u2019 Diana asked them. \u2018Does nature make you tingle<\/em>?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The following Sunday they all stood in a quiet part of the park doing Qi Gong exercises. \u2018Float the arms up slowly, deep breath, arms down, exhale, release tension,\u2019 Diana whispered, trance-like.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The queue had temporarily vanished, and the postmistress found herself transported to a place where the body and soul where in harmony and at peace. Yesterday, her third Sunday, they had all gone into a quiet wood, divested themselves of clothing, lay naked on the ground and meditated. She\u2019d rolled in the soil afterwards, sniffing the loamy scent, feeling the woodchips beneath her belly, the weeds under her thighs. The earth was alive, she was alive, one with all life. Her chakra was becoming unblocked.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Your application for healing is in the post,\u2019 Diana had said. \u2018Delivery is imminent.\u2019 The postmistress looked up; the queue had formed again. She stowed the hopeful prediction away, like one of the parcels pushed to the bottom of the postal sack beside her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018NEXT?\u2019 she bellowed. \u2018Come along! We\u2019ve not got all day. Where? Llan-elli?\u2019<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The queue had temporarily vanished, and the postmistress found herself transported to a place where the body and soul where in harmony and at peace. Yesterday, her third Sunday, they had all gone into a quiet wood, divested themselves of clothing, lay naked on the ground and meditated. She\u2019d rolled in the soil afterwards, sniffing the loamy scent, feeling the woodchips beneath her belly, the weeds under her thighs. The earth was alive, she was alive, one with all life. Her chakra was becoming unblocked. \u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[695,965],"tags":[643,984,980,751,95,7,981,983,982,14,129,118,74,11,591],"class_list":["post-1797","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-695","category-october-2023-the-curse","tag-been","tag-behind","tag-diana","tag-face","tag-had","tag-her","tag-nature","tag-put","tag-second","tag-she","tag-them","tag-they","tag-up","tag-was","tag-were"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-sZ","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1797","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1797"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1797\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1799,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1797\/revisions\/1799"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1797"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1797"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1797"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}