Day 2 of January and the Ultimate Blog Challenge is a cloudy one. There is no sun to spark me but I am remembering the sun of yesterday. I walked into the living room to find it lit in gold. I snapped a couple of pictures for I knew it would be gone in minutes. It’s hard to describe and photographs do not do it justice. But I was awestruck. There’s something magical about the winter sun on the wooden floor in late afternoon. I never get tired of seeing it. The magic never wanes.
I store these awestruck moments to sustain me and keep me on track. I find washing dishes magical, too, not in an awe striking way. Rather the magic is flowing, being carried away on a cloud. It’s a delightful physical sensation. I suppose you’re thinking I’m a bit nutty. I am. It is a wonderful feeling.
I like starting the day with a clear mind and a cleared table. So far, so good. I wasn’t quite so sure though last night when I couldn’t figured out how to turn on my car’s headlights. I was so sure that it was on the same side of the lever for the wipers. It was dark. I couldn’t see very well. I opened my door a bit so the dome light would come on. Nope, not there. I was almost afraid to look on the other side. I guess I was afraid that it wouldn’t be there. Then what would I do? It sounds silly, I know.
I was afraid to look but I groped under the left side of the steering wheel. Ah, the headlight lever. Relief flooded through me. Then anxiety. Am I getting demented? I sat there in anxiety but no panic. I did some silent soothing and calming of my nerves. I just had a glitch, a slight malfunction of the moment. I took time to breathe, remembering I have had such moments before when I was much younger:
I forgot my code for my credit card at the till shopping for groceries. I had to leave my groceries there.
I forgot where my locker was in the change room at work. I still remembered the panic I felt not recognizing what row it was in. It did passed in a few minutes. Whew!
I was talking to a medical resident at work. Her face got fuzzy. I wasn’t quite sure I remembered who she was. I must have looked disturbed. She said, Lily are you ok? And I said, Jackie? And it was her. I somehow managed to laugh it off.
I felt better having remembered those incidents. Then doubt crept in. I’m older now. What if it, the big A, is here? I decided that I don’t need that thought just then. I took a big slow breath, carefully backed out my car and drove safely home. I said a prayer on the way, vowing to take better care of my brain health.
So that’s why I continue to show up here – to document, to dig, to question the truth of everything. I’m clearing the debris, the useless excess. I’m looking for the light home.
Sitting still with myself is a tough task. I am not comfortable with myself. Are you, with yourself? It’s like facing a panel of judges, answering questions, facing up to truths. Yes, let me out of here! I squirm and wiggle. Finally I sit. Okay, I’m ready. I can be still. I can face reality. Let me have the cold facts.
How silly I am. I know the truths already. They’re unspoken, unacknowledged, just beneath the skin. Not saying them outloud does not diminished their roar, their need to be heard and tended to. Why are we am I so afraid of truths? Now my mask is off. I am not so afraid anymore. Just a bit. Being afraid brought more suffering along that of fear. I don’t want that. Get out. Stop it.
A moment of victory, conquering fear and anxiety. I just have to string the moments together to have an hour, a day, a week to a life of living bravely in the moment.
Sitting with myself is harder than I thought. I had to leave for a few days in the heat. The seat was hotter than I can tolerant. It’s cooler today and so am I. I am exhausted by it all. I am fresher in the morning. There’s things to do. No time for sitting or contemplation. By late afternoon I am on the downward spiral. I struggle to feel bubbly. I struggle for energy to do my art challenges. I know from experience that if I start, the struggle is resolved. That’s what I do. I stand up. I move. I do.
It is after 9 pm. I’ve made and ate supper. The dishes are done. The garbage out. I’ve thinned the carrots and filled one raised bed with water on the way back from taking the garbage out. That’s how I get things done when doing is difficult. It is one little thing followed by one little thing. It’s moving one foot in front of the other.
If I sound a little melancholy, it is because I am. It is the evening of the day. I sit and tap out my words and feelings. I am not sure if they are true. What I know for sure is life is miraclous and unpredictable. It always has been but I’m truly recognizing it now. I’m learning not to question the whys and wherefores, the ones without answers. I am a little more comfortable with myself now. I am appreciating the peace and the silence my tapping has bought me. It is time to say goodnight.
onethousandandtwo 