Missing Hawkrigg – yet wondering what it is that I am missing; the house, the garden, the freedom, the walks, the pub, the illusion that a fresh start was possible and that it simply required a relocation, a transplantation. Selling Hawkrigg was giving up on that dream.
Choosing to stay here meant choosing reality, a reality that is lonely and at times empty, devoid of hope.
So I wonder why am I here? Is there buried somewhere deep in my soul a hope, a hope that from this pain there may be healing? I have no idea what that will look like or what it will mean but I do believe that a part of me has a hope that it might happen. So what can I hope for in this new year …friendship, companionship, travel, adventure, and as I write this I consider what part do I play in making that happen? Am I a passenger in my life, watching other people’s lives as I pass by or am I driving the bus, choosing the direction and destination?
I know that today’s pain will pass and that there will be days of joy and fun, but today I offer myself what I need, a hot coffee and a guilt free cake.
Panicking at how faded the few photographs of us together are becoming, I realised that these are a pale imitation of our reality. The real memories are filed away in the library of my mind, memories of moments shared between us that were not about how we looked or where we were, but were about how we felt when we were together. These memories are rich, embodied and I only need shut my eyes and remember one of those moments to relive the intensity of emotion and depth of feeling. Photograph albums are precious, but my memories of love and laugher are worth more than all the gold in the universe.
I wrote this in the style of some really cool slam poets I had the privilege of seeing..Harry Baker and Hollie McNeish – if you have not heard them, look them up. This was written in response to a conversation that made me angry….
“But you’re all right now?”
Brokenness has a raw edge,
a raw edginess
that rubs people up the wrong way
the wrong way because there’s no right way
there’s no way this can feel right
and you have no right to tell me how to feel
I feel…broken, empty, damaged, angry
and it’s my right to feel.
The tree nurtured all of her fruit and when the time was right was willing to let them fall. This orange let go with a sigh and was caught and held by the branches. I have been wondering about this orange, was it not ready to fall to the ground with the others, or was the tree not ready to let it go? Sometimes we all need held.
The golden threads
I think my life is a huge tapestry, every relationship, however brief, represented by a thread connecting myself to another. Those relationships which are rich and precious, are represented by a golden thread. Someone said to me today, “you are so lucky”, and actually although I have never considered myself lucky, I do consider myself rich. My tapestry is full of golden threads, some shorter than I would have liked them to be, but those ones are the most precious of all.
I wonder now about the bigger picture, about standing back one day and looking at my tapestry and being thankful, thankful for the opportunity to live, to connect, to love.
I think it may be time to embrace anger, make friends, acknowledge her existence, sit down and have a chat. Then maybe she will stop hiding behind difficult situations, stop waking me in the night, stop masquerading as tiredness and illness, stop getting between my friends and I. Hopefully anger and I can become such good friends we can part amicably and just meet up now and then when I need a good rant.
So hello anger, what’s going on for you today?
I didn’t plan to be a widow, I didn’t plan to be lonely, I didn’t plan to change job 3 times or move house 3 times. I am sure those fleeing the war zone in Syria didn’t plan to cross Europe dragging their children and carrying their possessions in a back pack. Plans are an illusion, life is what happens. My only plan is to hope that I find a moment of peace each day in this frantic, chaotic and ever changing world. That’s why I try to capture a moment of beauty and peace in a photograph each day, to remind me that such peace can exist. As I read this I realise how bleak and bitter I sound and yet I don’t feel like that, I feel grateful to be alive. In the photograph the unusually low tide revealed a path to the pier I’ve never seen before, I have no idea when this path will appear again, so I took the chance to walk on it. It was a once in lifetime moment, if I had walked past I would have missed the opportunity. So rather than planning I am hoping to take time to notice what is happening here and now, in the moment, otherwise life will pass me by and I won’t even realise.