One moment eveything is normal, and the next you can find yourself catapulted into a situation wholly unimaginable only moments earlier. Suddenly what was is no longer – that safe, comfortable previous place has gone, your world has shifted on its axis and instead you are faced with a different reality, forever changed. And all at once you know that nothing will ever be the same again…
Unrelenting city living leaves me feeling uncomfortably adrift. I grew up in a rural farming community on the North East coast of Scotland, where the cycle of life continued with reassuring regularity. Each year had four distinct seasons, and each season played its own clear part in that cycle.
I invariably find myself searching out nature within the city, knowing almost instinctively when and where to look for those welcome signs of seasonal change, needing something of that old life to ground me and keep me anchored to the living earth beneath my feet.
Without regularly grounding myself in nature I find myself hopelessly adrift in a soul-destroying never-ending tread-mill world of brick and concrete and paving slabs, artificially lit 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks of the year, year in year out with no respite…
I am notoriously bad at attending social events. I don’t ever mean to be so flaky about it all, but although my intentions are generally honourable when I initially say to people ‘Yeah, sure, I’ll come if I can make it…’ I frequently find myself finding a last-minute excuse that allows me to back out of whatever it is I’ve agreed to, and I just don”t go.
The thing is I truly want to feel OK about large gatherings, whether formal or informal. So I keep agreeing to attend in the hope that this time it will all be fine. I tell myself that it’ll be OK so the thought of looking lost and lonely and stupid standing in the corner all on my own won’t freak me out too much. But usually I freak out anyway and avoid the risk.
Yet here I am for the second year in a row planning to attend the Annual Blogger’s Bash to be held in London next month – and I’ve even bought my ticket, so I’ve committed myself to putting my money where my mouth is. I stressed and fretted so much before going to last year’s bash, but in spite of my reservations once I got there it was absolutely fine, everyone was really friendly. I met so many lovely people, and this year I hope to meet many more.
One of the things I found most heartening was that everyone in person was just like they were on their blog – in one sense we were complete strangers, but in another we knew each other quite well. So blogging for me has become so much more than just an online space to explore my creativity – it has turned out to be not only about being an individual blogger but also about belonging to a wider blogging community, which is an amazing gift.
So hopefully I’ll be seeing some of you at the bash next month – you’ll easily recognise me, I’ll be the one standing alone in the corner freaking out, slightly flushed with nervous red blotches, waiting for the floor to open up and swallow me whole… 🙂
When we were at school we read ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ by Oscar Wilde – a great big yawn for many, but I really loved it! It’s very different, reading a play rather than a novel, but all you need is a bit of imagination to bring it to life in your mind.
I certainly far prefer a farcical comedy of yesteryear to the farcical politics of today – at least the former was written with the intention of being laughed at…
I balance on this precipice of life
Precarious and perilous in pain
While all around me fear whips raw and rife
Adrenaline rush coursing through my veins
I step towards abyss beyond the throng
Sense shadows in the depths begin to rise
Cold tendrils creeping stealthily along
Enveloping my soulless empty cries…
But suddenly I find myself pull free
Awareness amplified through every pore
I shudder at the thought of ending me
Am shocked at how I felt moments before
Collapsing in a pool of heart-wrenched tears
I cry until the darkness disappears…
A qualm of concern
Stomach twists up into knots
TV News, when I was younger, was something you only ever received in tightly-scheduled one-hour fixed slots at lunchtime, tea-time, and bed-time. And the news was… well… the news, not some 24-hour lifestyle-magazine conveyor-belt consisting of a continuous series of soundbites, suppositions and pseudo-scoops interspersed with the odd snippet of actual, factual information.
In the old days it seems to me that headline items were chosen with care and filler items added or discarded as necessary; prurient points took precedence and everything else followed in descending order afterwards. Basically all the fancy fluff and guff we have to wade through to find the bare bones of the story these days was missing. News was a serious business, delivered in a serious manner – well, mostly.
I have many fond memories of the final item of the Ten O’Clock News every night – the lovely Trevor Macdonald with his ‘And finally…’ story right at the end, usually something light-hearted or amusing or just plain silly to report to lift our spirits from all the inevitable doom and gloom of global daily disaster that we had been informed of over the preceding fifty-something minutes.
But nowadays it feels like the opposite occurs – we have multiple so-called ‘news’ channels streaming non-stop light-hearted nothingness all day with any news of real worth being slotted in randomly around the rest. God, I’m such a grumpy old woman these days, I seem to be turning into a real dinosaur, truly out of place in the modern world! 🙂
Sometimes life feels a bit like a maze, and at others it feels more like a minefield. And right now it feels like both at the same time… a bit like being in the maze from the Tri-Wizard Cup where untold threats lurk ominously around every shape-shifting corner, and nothing is quite what it seems…
So however tempting it may seem to rush headlong into the fray and simply thrash about until I can force my way through, instead of haring about hither and thither I’m going to take my cue from the slow and steady tortoise and plod onwards step by step, taking my time and picking the best way forward for me, in the hope that wherever life takes me, I’ll get there in the end one way or another, and that the journey does indeed matter as much as the destination…
Far too many mixed metaphors in this post, but that’s probably a clear sign of just how confused and muddled my brain is at the moment. Come to think of it, my mind can be a bit of a maze too! 🙂
A selection of pink flowers from my archives for today’s Daily Prompt 🙂
I try not to be bitter about past grievances in my life, I try not to let things build up like a huge head of water pushing intensely against an overfilled dam wall, pressured fit to burst. Instead I try my best to be aware of my emotions, to allow myself to feel the hurt and the unfairness and then try hard to let it go, not in a flood but in a steady stream of release. I try to stay soft-hearted in a world determined to harden my resolve. I don’t always succeed in my quest, but I can but try… 🙂