|Frolicking on the Downs|
|Not how supermarkets actually are.|
But - some insights -
- I have time. I have time! I do not have to be in a hurry, and it does not matter. If I am not in a hurry, I do not die, and nothing collapses into a heap. Once I let go of the feeling that all my time is accountable, I can enjoy sitting and watching the birds. I can enjoy saying to myself, do I really need to wash the lemon tree today? If I don't do it today, can I do it another day? And if I don't do it, does it matter? This is an experience of time that I have forgotten about. I am becoming less willing to make my time into work. I am enjoying sitting in the garden in the morning and feeling the cold air on my face while I have my tea.
- My clients, my friends and all the people who were to see the exhibitions, do not need me. Oh no! But they do not need me. They are all managing fine without me, and I am realising that though I understand that I am not indispensable, a teeny part of me hoped that perhaps I am. Just a bit. It would make me feel so good. However, not being indispensable means I am freer than I thought, and if everyone is fine without me, I have less responsibility, less to think about and more time.
- There is something deeper in all of this. I am not in control. I could never have seen this coming. Everything is changed and my certainties gone. I do not know where this is going, or how it will end. I may die. I may not. But I have had to relinquish everything, and come back to myself, with whom I will be spending a lot of time. If I do not have the comfort of taking my identity from what I do, who I say I am, how I project myself, then who am I? What or who is left? And yet I am still here, not hungry, not forgotten, still able to write and paint should I want to, still a grandmother, still healthy and still comfortable. None of my friends have used the lock down to tell me they never liked me anyway. With this free time, this looking beyond the identity the outside world gives me, this feeling vulnerable and free floating, without the proof that I am, perhaps, an artist only because I put on an exhibition and everyone agrees that I am, perhaps there is a space for something a little more profound. There is time not to think, but to feel, to respond to small things - plants growing, the sun through the window, the comfort of a chair with a cushion that had become so familiar it was invisible - there is time to be thankful. Perhaps it is fine that we do not understand what is happening, that we are not in control, that we feel we have lost so much. Perhaps, that is just the way things are right now, and if we can't do anything about it, if we have done all we can and cannot do any more, perhaps it is time to let go, focus on the right now, and ask ourselves what lovely thing can we do for ourselves in the next five minutes, and just do that.
- Reading and YouTube this is a quick one. I seem to have forgotten how to read. I watch YouTube instead. I am trying to sit down and focus on a book. It feels like a waste of time - what does that say about my concept of time? I could spend more time than is possible watching FBI Files on YouTube and think nothing of it. Time to get a grip.
fill my lungs with quiet,