At the end of a
particularly blustery day, following a week of true ‘March winds’, I sit in bed
listening to the rain on the rooftop and reach for my writing journal. I feel
that it is time to reflect and whilst there seems so much around us these days
to cast shadows and narrow our horizons, I find myself taking stock of what I
have to be thankful for. The large scary stuff can overwhelm us so easily but I
have found that my daily habit of writing can provide that much needed outlet
of escape – akin to turning the valve on a pressure cooker to release steam.
I often don’t know
what is going to emerge as my pen hits the page but by the end of the process
it has usually served a purpose, calmed my spirit and allowed the swirl of
thoughts to subside momentarily. There have been a lot of thoughts taking a
tumble around my mind recently – much like the odd bits of debris I saw tossed
about by the wind today as I tried to walk the dog. I have had a few darker
days this month, where those self-doubt seedlings have tried to take hold
again. They can be as persistent as the weeds and brambles that annually try to
choke the flower beds in our garden, giving us a renewed ambition to sort out
the space and make something of our bit of nature ready for promised warmer
days.
Looking at the work
still to be done in the garden today, I noticed a couple of flowers emerging
from the branches of a small magnolia tree that my mum bought for me as a
birthday gift last year. I have long admired such trees each spring when
passing their proud displays of flowers, so to have my own in a pot on our
decking is a little joy to be thankful for. Yes, it is a simple thing but
sometimes that is all we need to lift our chins and turn our faces back towards
the sunlight.
This month has also
brought its fair share of appointments for me – the medical ones that make you
notice your age again. I have had a blood test to keep a check on my anaemia,
ongoing physio with exercises to try to keep on top of on a daily basis and the
anxious process of a mammogram waiting for me to finish off the month. There is
something quite surreal about the small talk you share with a health
professional as they are squashing your wayward breasts in a device that would
look at home in a torture chamber and trying to recall how long you have had a
particular mole and describe the usual appearance of your nipples. Still, it’s
just one of those necessary evils of womanhood and better to have a moment of
discomfort and keep all in check than to be oblivious to anything sinister
coming along.
The physio exercises
I am doing are helping my foot – as they were designed to do – but seem to be
causing some transferred pain elsewhere and so I came to bed tonight with a
throbbing calf muscle which I hope eases overnight. When I hobbled up two
flights of stairs to reach my bed, it was easy to think that I was falling
apart and added to my thoughts of feeling my age. I certainly feel as though I
am having a sort of M.O.T and wonder how nice it would be if I could trade a
few parts in for an upgraded model. A lift or tuck here or there maybe? Not
really my way though, I have always thought that I should just work with what I
have been given – even if some days there is quite a lot of work to be done.
With an M.O.T and
service comes an oil change and a check of tyre pressures. Metaphorically
speaking, I feel I would benefit from the same and have been mindful of
necessary diet and exercise tweaks that I should be trying to make. On the
pressure side, I am now in a place where I know when and how to take effective
measures most of the time but I am also aware of the need to support my husband
with this. As the weight of meeting the family finances has now fallen to him
and the job demands have weeks where he is left looking very tired, our planned
short break away next month can’t come soon enough.
They say a change is
as good as a rest but sometimes change is by its very nature anything but
restful. There have been a lot of changes to our home and family dynamic
recently and we are all adapting. Within the context of a few days away, just
as a couple, the change of pace and scene that brings will hopefully bring with
it the rewards the mind and body reaps from a rest. Our break away has been
made possible by the generosity of friends who purchased hotel vouchers for us
as birthday gifts last year. It is also being realised because my children have
promised to be pet and house sitters and have reassured us that all will be
fine and to leave them to it. Let’s hope our trust is not misplaced.
A couple of days away
may not sound like much but from previous experience, it can make a world of
difference. There is that saying that ‘little things mean a lot.’ Thinking of
all the little things we have around us that we should be thankful for and the
odd possession that we may like to treasure, it is always the friends and
family that I return to, that I value most. When days are dark, or the swirl of
thoughts threatens to suck me in to a spiralling state, I can rely upon them to
be my recovery service and they don’t even need to bring their van.
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