Decluttering - things and people?

I was driving along today thinking, "I must update my blog!" and got home to an email from my elder daughter saying the same thing - so here I am.

The knee is still sore; I'm still off work. I was due to have 'Emergency Physio' last week but the physiotherapist had [?Swine?] flu, so that's been put back till tomorrow. Last week my knee gave an almighty CRACK! like a tree falling, and I had a few days almost free from pain. The specialist thinks I have a torn meniscus, which would be consistent with things moving around in there... anyway yesterday I had a smaller series of snaps and cracks, and today it's hurting again - although nothing like it was (I was crying with pain at every step for a few weeks). I had a scan last week and see the specialist in January, no private healthcare for me! It's bearable and has meant instead of stopping to smell the roses, as I usually do, I have had time to watch them growing as I hobble along.

It's been very interesting in terms of my avowed intent to enjoy this year - I HAVE enjoyed it so far. Not the pain, of course, but the sense of my identity not depending on being in work. I have enjoyed (possibly too much!) having the time to sit in cafes, talk to random strangers, and write notes and poetry. I have always been certain that retirement would hold no terror for me. I have a very active inner life; I'm a good friend of mine and relish my own company, as well as having the time to interact with other people.

Which is just as well, because there has been Momentous and Wonderful News this last month! My younger daughter is leaving home to work in France as an Au Pair. She goes in January. It is so exciting - for many years her health wouldn't allow her to do anything, not even paid work. Then she gradually worked her way into a 40-hour week in a shop, has just got an NVQ2 in Retail, and has a great track-record with a well-known company.

However, she has always been aware of having missed out on some of life's adventures due to her health. She had major surgery in January which has dealt with almost all the problems she had been having, and it suddenly dawned on her that now she is free to go and live life a little. She and her sister went to French school when we lived on the Cote d'Azur, and she has decided to spend some time brushing up her French. Her love of children (she's going to a family with three) made au pairing the natural option. She may well end up, as her sister did, leaving the au pairing but staying in the country - only time will tell.

As for me - well, I have never lived alone and so this is exciting for me too! I think it's high time. It's a wonderful feeling when you successfully launch the chicks from the nest. I shall miss her like crazy but I shall be in close touch via Facebook, emails etc and it's not all that far away (the family have invited me to visit, and I intend to as soon as my leg is fixed).

I regard this as another positive about this year - time to be alone with myself and meditate, pray and write. It feels good... and who knows what will happen once she's gone? I can't see the story ending with exciting adventures for my daughters, and none for me! I have been a little concerned by a few people I know saying things like, "Oooh this will be so hard for you! Will you cope alone?" I know they mean to be supportive but it has really led me to question how I come across. Do I seem that helpless? Or are they projecting? Either way, I need to think about it. Even loving friends can be toxic unintentionally. I need to decide whether to call them on it or simply let them go quietly. I don't want or need negative people around me - years ago I would have dismissed that as really harsh, but the great thing about '50' looming is that it really does make me think about the patterns I'm setting for the NEXT fifty years. I appreciate their concern but I don't appreciate them assuming I can't cope alone.

Recently I felt the urge to begin to clear out some of the larger clutter in my home. I had a disgusting old three-piece suite which was far too big for the room. That's gone, and has been replaced by something more modest. My piano had been sitting unused for a long time. I used to be a keen pianist - in fact I counted the piano as my best friend when I was a teenager(!) - but in recent years I haven't really played at all. It struck me that the piano was a reminder of the past and in some ways a symbol of my failure to keep it up. It suddenly felt like the right time to let go of it, and interestingly, I've given it to someone for whom the piano is also a symbol of her past, but in her case, a past she wants to revisit.

This is the point, for me - I'm never going to be the finished product. I'm always going to be a work in progress - and unless I let go of some things, others can't take their place. It was strange how as soon as I got rid of the piano, my daughter seemed to get some internal 'go ahead' to quit her job and go to France. I've always felt I should hold things lightly - giving the piano away was hugely symbolic for me.

So - aching leg apart - I am STILL excited about this year. It's been very different from what I was expecting, but I know in my bones that it's going to end on a really positive note.

New Glasses

I got my new glasses yesterday - they're quite different from my others. After about 20 years of sticking to little gold frames, I've gone for a larger frame in fine purple metal. They look very nice. And nobody has noticed them, which I always take as a sign that they are very 'me', so that's good.

Today I was looking at jobs, and noticed an advert for 'an Impatient, Elderly Occupational Therapist'. Of course the word was actually INpatient. I like glasses with a sense of humour. My sister and I regard these mis-sightings as part of the silver lining of getting older.

I'm still struggling with pasting anything onto here, which is frustrating cos I have loads of poems ready to go! I'll keep trying. I must have missed some button somewhere.

I'm back to the doctor's this afternoon - he's going to refer me on to a specialist I think, which will be good as my knee is very painful. I should also get my blood test results, which I am hoping won't show that I have Rheumatoid Arthritis but - if I do, I can be treated. I've dreamt about it several times, which is rare for me - my dreams are usually fantastic, narrative epics in full technicolour, rather than obvious references to real life. Perhaps once I know one way or the other, it'll stop. (In my dreams I always have RA, so we'll see how accurate they are, or whether they are playing to fears).

There's a lot to be said for being slowed down. It's painful to walk, but I make sure I concentrate on what I can see as I go, rather than the pain and the speed. You notice much more -particularly other people with limps, who have emerged from all sides, reminding me of how the world seems to be poplulated entirely by pregnant women when you're pregnant yourself.

My little town is a haven for the crippled - I've noticed since I moved here that the pavements are swarming with mobility scooters (rendering pedestrians less mobile, but we all co-exist quite happily). So I feel quite at home as I hobble over the cobbles.

Meanwhile, I'm spending time reading up on the Law of Attraction. In my Christian days I would immediately have dismissed it as a load of materialistic bunkum (but then there were Christian movements such as 'Name it and Claim it!' which were just the same). However, I think the Law is what you make it. It is possible to interpret it as the Way to get Wealthy but I think if you are a little more discerning, there is some excellent, helpful stuff in there about pursuing one's own spiritual path.

I've also read Jekyll and Hyde, as part of some research for a class homework on Horror. It's a very interesting read, and although I found the style a little elderly at first, once I'd got into it I was more than ready for the excellent last chapter, in which Jekyll discusses the struggle within him. Having only seen bits of films, I had always assumed that Jekyll was Good - but the whole point (it seems to me) is that Jekyll remains human - ie a mix of good and bad - and THAT is what allows Hyde to conquer, because the evil in Jekyll identifies with Hyde and therefore makes him stronger - he draws from both sides of the personality whereas Jekyll's goodness is ever-diminishing. It's a powerful comment on all the bad habits we allow to grow, I think.

Where'd the month go?!

That's a reference to the wonderful Michael McIntyre, whose show I saw the other week. He did a whole set about how people can never believe it's October. ("It was just AUGUST! What happened to SEPTEMBER?!")

But it's true. I've let the time fly past this month with hardly a blog, because so much has happened that I've hardly drawn breath.

My daughter had a (thankfully very minor) accident in her car, I performed in the town Arts Festival, was busy at work...

WAS busy at work.

The Leg - more precisely, the Knee - had other ideas. It feels as though a rat with very blunt teeth is slowly gnawing through the bone. I've had a blood test for Rheumatoid Arthritis. I'm hoping it's not that, though I have been ignoring some mild symptoms for the last few years.

I've now had four weeks off work with another sick-note until November 9th. The pain, I explained to the doctor, was about an 18 on a scale of 1 - 10. (And this from a woman who had both her babies without any painkillers at all).

I'm hobbling round like a good'un, and am considering writing to ask if I could be the New Face of Stannah Stairlifts.

The doctor isn't quite sure what's wrong, but I'm beginning to accumulate fluid on the knee and the pain isn't easing at all, quite the reverse. He muttered something about sending me to Someone Who can Do Something.

SO - my challenge in all this is to see how it fits into my wonderful 50th year...

Not difficult, actually, given that life is never predictable and it's perfectly okay in my book to include some hard times in a wonderful year. So what if I LOOK 85 as I limp through the supermarket? I'm still alive and happy to be so!

I've had time to type up most of my poetry, which will make it easier to send to people and put online. I'm thinking about the future, and taking time to read. I'm making the most of this opportunity to rest and just Be. I can't do any housework which involves crouching or bending, as I can't guarantee being able to get back up (my daughter had to help me last time, and I was crying with pain before I managed to stand back up!)

But - there's always the memories of Michael McIntyre to see me through!
So - I'll just see what happens. It's different, that's for sure.

Get on with it!

I've just been looking at jobs online. I've come across two wonderful schools' websites reporting the sudden and shocking death of their headteachers. Just looking at the websites tells me what an inspiration they have been, what they have achieved and what an enormous sense of grief and loss is being experienced by their school communities. One had won a prestigious teaching award last year.

They were both around my age.

It is a strange thing to feel sad that you never met someone whom - well, whom you never met! I found myself thinking, "If she'd been alive and I'd got an interview, we would have met and this would have been my loss too in some small way." Even without that meeting, I can feel sad for those who are reeling with shock as I type, and imagine the superhuman effort they are making to start term as normally as possible.

As I've written before, we are all connected. It is only by the merest chance that I even know about these people, but that doesn't mean I can't be touched by their lives and early deaths.

We cannot know how long we are here for. So it makes sense to make the most of it, to grasp those nettles, to dare to have those relationships knowing that even if they end, they were fun while they lasted, to take those risks, to make those differences...

...while we can. When we die, we leave a legacy in the hearts and minds of everyone who knew us. To a remarkable extent, we can choose NOW how we wish to be remembered.

If I died today, I think I would be remembered as a warm, friendly, loving and humorous woman with certain talents which perhaps I never used to the full. If death has a meaning for the living, perhaps it is a reminder to live our lives to the full - only I can live my life as it can best be lived. Nobody else can do that for me. This will be a good year to take stock and decide what footprints I want to leave in the hearts, minds and souls of those I care about.