In this past week I have written letters, sent cards and made phone calls but as to blogging there has seemed a barrier, which could not be crossed so I have sat and pondered instead. If only it has been just a week of sitting and pondering but that as they say is another story.
Pen and paper have certainly been utilised to enable
thoughts to be straightened confronted and begun to be understood and as always
the very act of taking letters and forming them into words or colours into
shapes has given me space I did not think I had and time I was not aware was
available.
This week has been one of challenge and then some more challenge heaped on for good measure but as I laughingly agreed with a good friend that’s every life to some extent and we all have the capacity to think our extent is the greatest. No one has an uncomplicated life it is just the choices we make that can propel it from the usual mayhem – in my case, to unutterable cataclysm. Being the voluble soul that I am of course my choice is always towards mayhem rather than cataclysm as I would much rather emote loudly than stand aghast in silence, though in saying that I realise almost immediately that is not the central tenant to how I respond or approach a day, a situation, this life.
Yes, I am what is politely sometimes termed ‘demonstrative’:0), am forthright to the point of being cold, cruel, calculating – so I have been told, but in the same breath am told I am caring, supportive and indestructibly loyal so maybe that’s a balance then. However, though I laugh loudly shed rivers of tears and am known to stamp a foot from time to there is a sense in my heart and mind that that is just all so much periphery twaddle, a means to express, expunge and embrace but not anything like the whole picture.
The picture is framed, backed and hung with the strength of acceptance, the shape of silence and the wholeness of unknowing.
When weeks like the one just past come along as they regularly do I know that my focus and critical eye need not turn to the obvious colour, movement, composition of the picture but to that which frames, backs and hangs it in place.
When the picture appears distorted, askew in angle or dangling precariously ready to smash to the floor it is then that acceptance, silence and unknowing become the one thing I have no need to express, display with a flourish or underline in red for all to see. Instead I need to stand still, look around and inward, to consider quietly what I have allowed to weaken the acceptance, silence and unknowing that creates the dynamic, delightful life I find myself owning.
It may be very obvious outside forces that could be blamed but in truth I know that whatever they might be it is my choice that makes the difference between my ‘life picture’ being placed in adequate space, good light and secure fixing not whether I have been woken at 3am by incoherent phones calls, engaged in ‘thrilling’ interactions with psychiatrist, social worker and other so called professionals on another’s behalf, driven hundreds of miles with less than co-operative body, found others on my doorstep demanding attention as I reel from 48 hours of personal pukedom, etc, etc, etc. Basically, generally had one of the many weeks I hope not to repeat too soon but have an inkling that the re-run has already been scheduled:0)
In the choice to accept rather than acquiesce there is good space, in the choice to listen intently and respond deliberately there is true silence, in the choice to realise my unknowing is reflection of good not bad is truth to hang any picture squarely securely and in an enormous amount of truth.
I have made some key decisions in this past week midst the disarray of another’s life, midst the disarray of my own life there has come time space and understanding of unknowing which has offered me way to respond, way to be and way to continue.
I have felt really very tired of much of my life this past week, tired of my self and tired of the inevitable continuation of much of what I find difficult and nigh impossible to live with and through but, my favourite word after possibly no:0), there has been real sense of living as truthfully as I may, of not being afraid to hang this life picture in the most prominent place and being able to step back and take in the whole and find that it shines more than I may give it credit for in some of my analysis and criticism. That unlike a picture on a gallery wall this picture called ‘my life’ needs constant retouching, removing remixing placing of colour and line is the joy and the frustration of course.
That I could choose to let it hang in a place untouched save for the odd brush of a feather duster through the years is probably true or would be if I were not me. I however have never discovered the joy of housework in itself so find it far less taxing to actually take hold of the whole picture and literally remove elements or add to them rather than happily dust the ever fading and static memorialised image of a moment.
I am a moment created from infinite moments held for a finite moment.
When I make choices, act upon these choices and live with the consequences it is only for a moment I am but infinity and the finite will open up the space, offer the light and reveal all the unknowing still to be discovered where this life picture will hang as it need to as long as choices are made informed by a heart open and a mind free as explained by breath in breath out.
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