an existential crisis

do you know, sometimes these days, i feel i don't even know myself? i do not recognise the person i have become.  i am so changed by the events of the last few years. i envisage myself as a piece of elastic, which has stretched too far and for too long, gone through the dryer a few times too many, and has ended up hard, brittle, and no longer flexible. you know the elastic i mean. the waistband of your one time favourite comfy pants, or your favourite undies. that damned piece of elastic which renders the whole thing workable. or not.

i feel like a veteran. of the trenches.  can i say that? or is it really insensitive and politically incorrect? i guess i haven't had to endure anything like the deprivation of those guys, but geez i feel wounded some times.

truly, though, i look back on the woman i used to be, and she is a far different woman to the one i feel nowadays.  once upon a time i used to cast spells in the tide line using a potent blend of shells, driftwood, pebbles, seaweed, and focussed intent.  i many times drew, or wrote, my intent, envisioning my future into being. and so many times it happened that as i drew, so i drew. drew to me that which i so clearly envisioned - sometimes a little in disguise, but always discernible as that which i had wished into being. once upon a time actually DREAMED.  i pondered my world, the universe, and from that i IMAGINED.  i'd invent the most wonderful scenarios for myself, and then over time be so quietly tickled as i watched these ideas manifest in my life.

somewhere along the line, i have lost my capacity to dream. how very sad......

the merry go round continues

a sweet and well meaning young woman of my acquaintance asked me today how my week has been. i answered 'it's been challenging' and she asked if i have someone i can download to about it.  i replied that i do.

in all honesty though, this week has been unbearable, and mostly because i feel so completely unable to express my thoughts and feelings to anyone. i have to hold everything together so damn tightly, lest it all unravel and fall to pieces. and besides that, i never get a moment alone, or a moment alone with another adult, in which it is appropriate to purge. i am either working, or surrounded by children.

my poor kids have had to contend with me as morose and uncommunicative, for days now. i go through the motions - they are fed and bathed, they have delicious and nutritious lunch boxes packed each morning, they are encouraged to practice their instruments and get on with their homework.....but that's about it. i can't summon a smile to save myself.

i am obsessively poring over research papers and online forums, looking for some elusive answer which will make everything better, or at least give me some hope.

i just KNOW she is dying. every bad CT scan is just another nail in the coffin and eventually that lid will be nailed down so tight there's no getting out.  it's only a matter of time.

i spoke to a woman recently who believes god cured her husband of degenerative motor neuron disease.  she told me we just have to have enough faith, pray hard enough, and god will cure all ills.  so, where do we agnostics go with that then???  the essential problem is that i don't believe. i don't believe she will ever be really well again.  when i first clapped eyes on that purple lump on her breast, i KNEW how this would end.  having nearly 12 months free of treatment, free of apparent disease....i don't know if that was cruel or merciful really.  it gave us a chance to heal from the trauma of surgery/diagnosis/prognosis/treatment, but more importantly, it gave us a chance to let go of the fear and apprehension.  it gave us a chance to dream again, to plan. only to have all those dreams and plans ripped away, again.

this cycle is killing me, too. it is unbearable. and yet, how can i possibly wish for it to end? because wishing for it to end is wishing for her to die, isn't it??? and how could a mother possibly wish that for her child???

so, in her remarkable self assurance and resilience, the young one in question has gone off interstate to uni this week. doing orientation for the law course she is starting anew this year. while i am here, feeling totally overwhelmed, unable to work effectively, dealing with a shit load of self loathing and grief....i just wish someone would show me how to get off this fucking ride....

i can't see blue knob for the cloud which has settled in the valley between here and there. it's a very strange sensation for my brain. my eyes are straining to see what my brain knows is there. sometimes i think i can catch a glimmer of an outline of the mountain through the cloud, but then it's gone and it seems i have just filled in what i know to be true. i wonder if this is a front, advancing, toward me. hopefully it will bring some rain with it....

it is another example of how the exterior so succinctly mirrors the interior....or is it that i have so successfully projected my inner outward? whichever....

my mind, too, is clouded, yet light still, with birdsong, whispering wind and dancing trees. but it seems i am disconnected, watching, as the front advances.  i struggle for clarity, clarity of vision, of purpose, of direction.

in my home, as i sit and write, sipping a new blend, i briefly hear a mouse, difficult to judge whether it is at my elbow or over the other side of the house.  i look for it, but it eludes me, goes quiet for a while, and then returns to disturb my flow, just when i have finally let it go....

there are mice in my mind, also. little distracting, gnawing, thoughts which dart in and out, stealing my focus, jolting me out of my brief glimpses of ease or understanding. sometimes these thoughts are smelly, putrid, and lingering, like the mouse wee i sometimes find on my clothes, or the occassional, rotting, dead things which appear in odd places in my home.

i'm drinking a herbal blend, to fortify myself for what i can see is a rough road ahead. my friend on the CSG blockade site often uses the term 'red alert' in relation to the battle they are waging against the capitalist, environmental vandals, and this time for me feels like my own, personal red alert.  i feel shaken loose from any complacency, i am confronting impermanence, i am poised to move in the direction that is placed before me. i feel totally helpless to determine that direction myself. the battle is coming to me.

i am preparing to take to the skies. to pack my bags and travel, wherever necessary, in support of my daughter and her own, personal battle against the cancer which gnaws away at her.....holding my bewildered younger daughters close, tighter for the knowledge that i may leave them behind at certain points on the road, as i ruthlessly prioritise the needs of my little family.....

so, wish me luck, comrades, as i take on this latest campaign.

lessons from incapacity

So, I’ve been incapacitated for the last little while.  I fell of a ladder while at work and damaged the connective tissue in my knee. I’m fairly sure this was a message from the powers that be.  At that time in my life I was feeling very inspired, and excited, about projects I was imagining, things I could see myself doing, at some point in the dawning year. I guess I was so busy looking forward that I was not paying attention to what was happening for me right here, right now, and being the wilful and obstinate ox that I am, it took a fall from a ladder to stop me and deliver me into the present moment.

I’ve discovered I’m not very good with incapacity.  I get frustrated at my own incapability and anxious for resolution so I can get a move on with all the things I can see need doing.

I have, however, enjoyed the opportunity to minister to myself – something which I often run out of time for in a busy life.  At this time, it is perfectly okay for me to assert my needs, and seek to fulfil my own needs – it is okay for me to be self absorbed.

A friend came over with a huge tub of turmeric – probably a kilo of it.  I have been making a paste to apply to my knee joint before binding with a firm bandage.  We had fun painting up my youngest with it too, burnishing her golden as a traditional Indian bride! Tonight I added cayenne and cinnamon to the poultice and massaged and gently manipulated my knee and leg through the bandage.  This was an exercise in self belief, actually, as the poultice grew hotter and hotter against my skin and I wondered if I was burning myself. But I felt so good on those muscles which have been clenched in pain and restricted movement for four days now.  I did take the poultice off after about half an hour, but I think it was beneficial and I didn’t end up burning my skin.

I’m also taking turmeric internally, in a mix of anti inflammatory herbs and drinking litres of nettle tea.  Nettle is known for its affinity for the joints, and specifically for drawing inflammation out of the joints.  Additionally, it is a strengthening tonic and nutrient dense – just what I need at this time of recovery and recuperation.

I’m rounding out my therapeutic regime with fish oils and homeopathics – an internal remedy, as well as topical arnica once or twice per day.

My kids have really risen to the occasion. My eldest has been away, but the littlies have really come through for me. My middle girl has cooked dinner two nights in a row, and done a pretty good job with it, too. She has uncomplainingly (mostly) picked up, tidied and cleared whenever asked.

Her younger sister has done her jobs obligingly and even taken on more to help me and her sister out. She asked me to remind her, if I thought she was not taking responsibility!

And the two of them together have pottered about the house, trapped here along with me, creating various masterpieces, inventing, drawing, building cubbies and just generally entertaining themselves, together and alongside one another, with a minimum of fuss and fights.

So, despite my frustration at the thwarting of my immediate plans for physical activity and my current inability to work and move forward in so many areas in my life, I guess it’s true to say that I have enjoyed this time at home with my kids.

I have again been reminded about the goodness of my loved ones, who have variously brought me groceries, kidnapped me and taken me for coffee, driven me to the airport, sat with me at the hospital, dressed my injury and myriad more acts of kindness and generosity.

And that, my friends, is the glimmer of a gemstone, hiding amongst the dross……

fell off a ladder

let this suffice for yesterday's missive.

fell off a ladder at work. damaged my knee which is now a tightly bound and largely immobile, throbbing ball of pain.  i am hobbling about the place with crutches. no driving.....

an enforced rest perhaps.....

so, i have made a commitment to myself to write something, every day. today i felt so uninspired.....!

let me see....the things which inspired me today:

feeling the breeze under my arms at about 4.30pm after feeling sticky all afternoon
cold peppermint tea
martina topley bird

funny that it was such an uninspiring day for me....it started out so promising! i chose to not go out last night (new years eve) and stayed home alone instead. i don't think i've done that since i was a teenager.  it felt like a good thing to do. i had options, and friends at various places to meet up with, but as the day stretched into the evening, i just didn't feel like leaving my nest. i didn't want to go out and drink. i didn't want to encounter awkward conversation. i didn't want drama or angst or love interests.

what i wanted was ease and contentment, which is just what i had found in the last couple of days at home, working around my place. i had found inspiration in my own patch and i liked that feeling and didn't want to put it away, even for a night.  i curled up in my bed at about 10.30pm, tired and content, and slept soundly until i woke for work this morning.

as i drove into town i mused on what my friends were up to. most of them, i knew, would be nursing hangovers, or waking up in their car somewhere, or facing a mountain of bottles and dirty dishes.  it felt so simple to have chosen otherwise, and the earth was not shattering....just another day dawning with a list of aims and aspirations to work through....

so i worked all day today in town, in my shop. custom was slow, and the crowd today were not very engaging or engaged with what i was doing - with one or two exceptions. there were no heart warming chats or connections.  i got through most of my list, served a lot of tea, and generated a bit of custom for my businesses.

i was looking forward to returning to my nest, to potter some more, as i have done this evening.

and so begins another year. the last one seems to have happened in a heartbeat.

i am excited for this year. there is change in the air and i like it. i feel full of ideas and am dreaming of plans, and futures and possibilities. i know there's big stuff coming, i can feel it. but i am not afraid, not at this moment. i feel so full of the possibilities......

i feel so inspired to write...on my way here to commit my musings, i passed a post on the blog of a friend of mine, timed 13 minutes ago - this after months, and months, of her committing nothing to this space about her life....i look forward to going back and reading about what so inspired her today...

in fact, i feel so inspired to write, that i may even be making a resolution...i hesitate to call it a 'new year's resolution', but it does appear to be coming over me at this time of year.  whatever the timing, i feel a resolve coalescing inside of me, a resolve to honour this urge to write...i feel i'm edging toward a commitment to write, every day...something....to somehow commit to the capture in words of something, some moment, of each and every day.

today i have been musing upon the nature of  appearances, a train of thought sparked off in me by a number of recent, disparate, interactions with others around me.

if i'm honest (and what would be the point of being otherwise?) pretty much the whole of my life has been fraught with issues, and learnings about how i look to others. for the most part, i have felt positively ugly, and this has coloured my interactions with those around me, as i have approached these interactions feeling immediately inadequate through the simple fact of my ugliness in a world obsessed with beauty.

my outer ugliness has always, in my mind, shown to the outside world my inner corruption, the essential toxicity of my inner, unseen self.

i guess i always held onto a belief that life would be different if i was just beautiful.

the year i turned 30 was the year in which i, for the first time, became aware of my body as something other than a window into the imperfect morass of my essential being - a vehicle which consistently disappointed me by it's flaws and limitations.

at this stage in my life, i was studying full time at uni 40 minutes from home, working an early morning cleaning job before uni three times a week, and a mid-week cafe shift as well.  at home were my two children, partner, acres and mortgage.

at some point i realised that my life was very cereberal, and i needed to somehow balance that out in the physical.  i attended a local martial arts class run by two young guys who i studied with along the way. that class fizzled out within a matter of months, but by that stage i had developed the ability to find my centre, and hold it strong, throughout my daily life.  i was amazed at my own ability to 'centre' and was the first time i had seen and appreciated a tangible linkage to the body/mind/spirit connection.

i started doing circus training with some good friends and this became valuable time out for me, when my sole focus could be me, and my strengths and weaknesses, my own abilities and limitations, allowing my own aspirations for strength, flexibility and physical control to bubble to the surface for examination, analysis and nourishment.  pretty soon i was reliant on this physical outlet as a regular part of my life.

this sort of training opened me up to kickboxing class with a bunch of mums of young kids, on a friday evening, after which we would all share a drink and a laugh at the pub - our drinking and fighting night we called it.  so this kind of physical commitment really also served a purpose of  building social networks and supports as well.

with notable breaks in routine over the last decade, i have maintained this commitment to my physical being and have always since valued having some physical outlet for my energy, lest i burn it all up in my head. sometimes, i find this outlet in dancing, also and wood chopping and yard work.

so, i have pursued a physical regime as a harmoniser for my mental well being.  i have used physical training as a means to the mental and emotional strength to which i aspire. lessons learnt whilst chopping firewood, moving into a yoga pose, straining for a chin up, whirling like a dervish, or battling lantana, have, for me served a deeper purpose as i strive to understand the strengths and boundaries of my mental and emotional self.

as i have actively pursued embodiment, i have strengthened the connections between myself and those beings around me - my friends and family, my workmates, the trees in my forest, the frangipani in bloom, my community and the broader environment and society beyond.  it is through emobodiment which i understand connectivity, the complexity of the weaving which holds this all together, and each and every one of us at the centre of a vast multi dimensional network, the depth and breadth of which is beyond our understanding.

i have noticed and enjoyed the outward changes occurring within my physical self.  somewhere along the way there i must have become attractive to observers, because people do make comments to me about my physicality.  and when that happens i find myself scoffing, feeling a bit annoyed, because i know that what i look like to you tells you nothing about the important bits of my self.  if i happen to fill out a particular dress or pair of pants nicely, is so beside the point.

what i am valuing about myself in this body is not how it looks, but how it holds me all together and allows me to interact with my space through the medium of my physical senses as well as the psychic ones....i am valuing the unique capacity i have for moving through this world of sights, sounds, smells and caresses, in this physical vehicle of mine. what it looks like to others is ultimately immaterial.....


the fundamental problem at the core of the beauty myth is this. beauty is not in the eye of the beholder.  beauty resides in the heart of the beholder. beauty is a feeling, not a visual which we perceive with our eyes. so while we all strive to achieve the body beautiful and sculpt, wax and groom ourselves for the eyes of others, it is all pointless.  beauty is as beauty does and it is our actions which reveal our inner selves to the world. it is our responses to the people and environment in which we work and play which reveal our worth.