Friday, 16 December 2011

Joy pockets 4

"Every day may not be good, but there's something good in every day". (Anonymous)

It's been a hard, but, at least partially, cathartic week. You have again been ill, very unhappy and not knowing what you wanted.  Or at least not able to express it so that I understood.  But when I've not felt close to tears, I've really had a clear head.

This week I'm again remembering the good things.

  • Really productive and bonding barnstorming with Daddy (at least this is what my sleep-deprived brain called it, others may call it "brain-storming" ;-)) about what we love and want.
  • This film (Another Earth) at the cinema following wine and chat with a friend.  Powerful.  Compelling.  Heartbreaking.  One of the best ever.
  • A beautiful drive through Sussex countryside to the woods to choose our Christmas tree. 
  • Our very productive collaboration on the Christmas card front.  What a dedicated, organised, focussed partner I had.
  • Stumbling through Christmas carols on the uke (some are hard! But I found some simple ones)
  • The surprising liberty in deciding to return to something on a short-term basis to make things possible.  How a small shift of perspective completely alters the picture. It feels courageous, positive, rational and grown-up.  Maybe it's the (lapsed) Catholic Martyr Mam in me breaking through the chains, but I don't think so.  This feels good.   

Now I can hear you cry so I'm off!

    Love Mam x

    Sunday, 11 December 2011

    Bon Voyage

    "I am a blind woman finding her way home by a map of tune.  
    When the song that is in me is the song I hear from the world
    I'll be home.  It's not written down and I don't remember the 
    I know when I hear it I'll have made it myself. I'll be home....". Paula Meehan (Home)

    I was inspired by the beautiful words here.

    From the beginning I was told what I should do.

    Later I asked myself what I could do. 

    Later still: what I wanted to do. 

    I was crippled by these questions. 

    They created so much noise in my head.  I lived at full-speed in the future.  I rushed to choose a personality for fear of isolation.  A profession for fear of poverty. Afraid to pursue what really interested me.  I told myself "I don't have the time.  I can't make a living from that. I'll probably be sick of it in a few months anyway".  Not seeing the point.  Afraid.  Afraid.  Afraid.  Defeated before I even began.  Not knowing who I am.

    "...The wise women say you must live in your skin, call it home..." 

    I want to silence those questions.  Block out that noise.  From others.  From society.  From myself.  Set myself free to explore my interests, whether they last a few days or a few years.  Embrace change, get to know who I am now and allow my Self to evolve.

    I want to enjoy the trip and not worry about the arrival.

    It will be hard, to change the habit of a lifetime.  But I will hold in my head the image of a river. Starting off as a crystal clear trickle before gathering steam. Free-wheeling downhill.  Sparkling in the sun. Picking up moonlight and detritus. Diverting past obstacles and shrugging off storms. Reflecting the glory of the day's sunsetting swansong before gushing full full full of ....everything... to the sea.  
    malcolm bull

    "...I'm on my last journey.  Though my lines are all wonky
    they spell me a map that makes sense. Where the song that is in 
    is the song I hear from the world, I'll set down my burdens
    and sleep.  The spot that I lie on at last the place I'll call home." 

    This too, is what I want for you.

    Bon voyage, my love.

    Love Mam x