I find myself, once again, lying in bed exhausted and in pain and feeling like I am missing out on the world. I have been at work, but am now in the spare bedroom downstairs, the back door is open and I can feel a breeze and see a slice of the garden.
A chaffinch is calling its funny eighties keyring sound-effect call and a greenfinch screeches a nasally whine on occasion. Mr and Mrs blackbird are as busy as ever collecting insects and stopping now and then to drink from one of the bowls on the lawn. They flick through old leaves and cut grass not caught up after mowing. Cowslips stand tall and bright with spring-time yellow under the weeping crab apple tree; the long thin stems of which are laden with pink blossom and sway in an easterly wind.
I long to be outside; walking, biking or working in the garden, but I have absolutely nothing physically left to give, today. I started slipping towards more than frustration and feeling quite down, so deployed tactic number one – message MOTH to say I needed a, ‘buck the f*ck up’ and to at the very least slowly walk down the garden and back, once. We went out together; he brought in the washing and we both checked on the seedlings in the greenhouse. I returned to bed, utterly exhausted.
So, tactic number two – “What would Josie do?” Josie George is the author of, ‘A Still Life,’ and a fantastic woman I follow on twitter. (I don’t know about you, but I still feel misgivings towards, ‘follow’ as it feels either cult-ish or stalker-y.) Josie has, throughout her life, had enormous physical difficulties to deal with, compounded further by at first these being of the ‘invisible illness’ variety. As someone who was diagnosed with ME at age thirteen and has since had cancer twice and all the fallout from the treatment of, I feel I completely understand the pain, grief, frustration and anger of living with an ‘invisible’ illness.
But, although Josie does address these things in both her memoir and social media, she is somehow the most positive and inspirational person. Since reading her book, I have often deployed the, “what would Josie do?” tactic, when I find I am starting to feel a bit sorry for myself. She has shown me that there is always something, no matter what you are going through. Sometimes for her it is fully paying attention to her pain as when it is all-encompassing, she may as well explore it with curiosity.
So here I am, doing something. I am telling you about a brilliant book and an excellent person. I will also give you a little slice more of my imperfect, perfect world…
I am under the heavy warmth of a beautiful quilt I bought for myself as a gesture of love to me when I was living on my own for the first time. It feels an empowering hug of a quilt for that! There is spring warmth in the air but an enticing whip of wind that blows coolness on my face. A regular black bird has found a song he loves and sings it many times each day; it is a waltz and he is clearly smitten with it. I can see cones of lilac, not fully open yet, but can recall the strong, sweet honey scent clearly and it will fill the garden again soon as, all things cycle round; the seasons, the days, the good and the bad – a comforting thought as I know the pain will pass as my own seasons cycle. Until then, I will try to not feel I am missing out, but will instead focus harder on what I have, right here, right now. And it is good.
