Hi,
well - not had a lot to say really, so haven't! But just so you know, I'm still feeling enthusiastic about my year, if rather surprised at how it's turned out so far!
I'm still waiting to see the specialist about my knee - there was a brief flurry the other week, when I thought I was going back to work, but the GP said I shouldn't really go back until I'd seen the specialist. As far as I know, that's going to be in about three weeks... I'm having another chat with the GP tomorrow - my main concern is that I haven't yet had physio, and the other knee was very sore for a while (until I switched how I used the crutches to support it for a while instead). I've fallen through every gap in the system but - I can't help feeling there is some purpose to it all somehow. Anyway I can't change anything by worrying, so there's no point is there?!
Meantime I've been doing lots of reading and meditating. I grow more and more fascinated by the thought that nothing is solid - I mean, obviously it is, but it isn't, not at the molecular level. Just as I have always been stunned by the fact that all the things I do online which look so real on screen are fuelled by a series of ones and zeros, so my 'real' life is basically a load of energy pulses at various frequencies. On a sub-atomic level we are in constant motion, as are tables, plants, mountains and planets. I find that mind-blowing.
As I've read about meditation, I've been interested to come across the concept of the sound of 'Aaah' as the Sound of God. When I was a little girl, I had a phobia about this very sound - and I could never quite put into words the feeling it evoked in me. If people were chatting and I could see one of them understanding a point and getting ready to say, "Ah! I see what you mean!" I would shiver in terror, but couldn never explain properly as I couldn't say the word. I came to know it as my 'Ah!' feeling but even saying that frightened me.
I wonder now. I wonder if that feeling (as though the whole world was in my chest, spinning around out of control and so big I would explode) isn't a little akin to the feeling people in the Bible had when they were struck dumb by the presence of angels. I wasn't in a place to give it a spiritual interpretation back then, but now I wonder...
For the first time, I am living in an empty nest - my daughters now both live abroad. I was fairly sure I'd be fine, but having never lived alone before (I don't count student digs, where there is always someone around!) I didn't quite know what to expect.
The first couple of days were a little strange, a definite feeling of bereavement and emptiness - but it happened to be when the snow was at its worst and I was pretty literally stuck in the house. As I'm still using crutches and feeling quite disabled in some ways, it was a very strange time, as though Someone was saying, "Your nest is empty, and you are going to have to sit in it all week and think about it!" Which was actually quite a good tactic for me - it's how I used to deal with all my old phobias; I've always faced fear by mentally picking it up by the scruff of the neck and facing it until it holds no more fear. (My theory is that there are two types of people - the ones who react to toothache by booking the earliest appointment possible, and the ones who put off the dentist as long as they can. I'm the first kind - I see procrastinating as prolonging the worry of the inevitable!)
So - I sat in my house (feeling quite trapped, I must admit) and Faced it Out.
And I feel fine. I'm enjoying having my own space. I can be quiet when I want (which is a lot) and I can read, and I can fill the fridge with things I love to eat but wouldn't necessarily impose on my daughters. (Although I have discovered I've developed an allergy to lychees, which is really annoying - since I started with hayfever I have become allergic to some fruits and nuts, fortunately not majorly, but enough to stop me enjoying them).
I went for a walk in the park a few days ago and was suddenly overwhelmed with memories of being there with my daughter, and the time I ran a race there and she popped out of the crowd to take a photo - and I did stop for a cry, but that's okay. I've worked for many years to get in touch with my feelings; I'm not going to stop them coming up or be afraid of them. Anyway some of those tears were for my knee I think! I can't quite imagine ever running again, although I think it's highly likely I shall.
I've always had moments where my heart has been gripped by a sudden nostalgia, when I walk past an Early Learning Centre, for example, or see someone with two little girls in a cafe... in French, 'nostalgie' is 'homesickness' - and I think that's a very good description of those feelings - homesickness for the past. I suspect a lot of the Empty Nest stuff people go through is about realising just how far away that past is, a country they can't ever visit again. We are all refugees, in a way.
And yet - what about the present? The future? I can't help feeling excited about what my life will be in 6 months, 6 years from now... After all, if it's all down to bundles of energy shifting around in some incomprehensibly intelligent fashion, then there is A Purpose to my life, and all I have to do is show up every day and watch what happens!
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