Paul K song “Don’t come too close to the window Somebody out there might see “ Kiss me ? Kiss me ? Put on your dress
Hurry back home .
A constant refrain : Garden list House list Mail list Reading list Shopping list Muddled
buy eggs for zuchini and banana cake ,pot the red geraniums ,mulch the olive trees ,catch the caterpillars eating the kale ,snail pellets ,yoga class monday get a bolster to use for the upward dog ,have i got the prolia stuff out of fridge ? .phone cassandra where is ? sort that bedroom .and vacuum upstairs ,pay that bill from hospital ,throw away those medical pamphlets rinse mouth ,push toilet button twice ,apply cream to sore skin ,watch out for cold water on hands and dont swallow cold water be careful of your skin,youll bleed,youll bruise,youll burn
Head buzzing Are these buzzes offerings too? Fixers to the ground?
Flowers and plants are lifting to the heavens These mundane messages too may be anchoring to this life
this messy
busy
splendid life
here
NOW
And Paul K ? The girl without her skirt?
exposed ,vigorous ,
full of sexual promise, dangerous A danger lost with age and illness.
Are these offerings a farewell ? or a summoning back ? A memory as offering to God and gods ? Not a sacrificial offering as such Just a medley of reminders and cautions ?
A funny celebration of what was ,is and could be As it was in the beginning IS now And ever shall be.
But hope this world,my world Keeps going Without end For now
This day dawns bright with promise -sunrise later now as winter is approaching.This morning is very still and bird call,specifically cockie call, less .Now that we have pulled out the sunflowers which have reached their end.I miss the mass of sunflowers that used to face me as I sat in the back garden at this time of the morning :when day has just dawned and the sky is a pale pink mixed with streaks of orange and red ,the moon a slight shape as the sun comes up over the horizon .
Sometimes there were 40 or so cockies ,perched precariously on the top of long stalks swaying with the slight breeze, seeds in hand, calling to their mates to come and enjoy this sunflower paradise.When I walked outside the gate for my morning walk I watched them striding over the road into Burford Place,picking up scattered seeds, chests puffed out and full of noisy self-satisfaction .They don’t move out of my way .
Today I am up later ,and there are only a few bedraggled looking sunflowers we haven’t got to yet and fewer cockies.There is less bird call as the day heats up, and no cockie army patrolling my street.
Corona virus time.Its hard to believe that its with us,and for the foreseeable future.”Maybe,just maybe it will go away early “a secret voice whispers within me.Maybe just maybe it won’t get to my town,my community,my neighbours ,my friends, my family.Its “out there .”
And then I see those lovely Spanish villagers ,the people in bars along the various caminos ,the old people who came out of their houses to talk ,or just walked towards us in the street to enquire how we were and wish us well , the friends we made along the Ways- the Rays and Rosas ,the,Carmens and Marias and Angelas,the Joses and Antonios(the many strangers and hospitalarios who guided us to albergues,,provided shelter and food,shared their celebrations and dancing, pointed out the Way, showed us special treasures.
I can describe the caves in ,where the hospitalario took us to his cave.He took us deeper into the wine making part and we poured wine from the old caskets by torchlight.Then they provided ensalada and queso with freshly made bread and we sat in the cave drinking the wine,eatingand talking.I still recall the taste of that food and wine ,and the lights flickering on the walls of the cave.Magic.No expectation of return,pure generosity and caring,and a desire to show us their treasures.Small wonders within a sometimes muted universe.Their wonders lit up our lives, and the light is with me still.Gracias por todo, mis amigos Espanoles .
So I think of those people especially ,and the CV can no longer be “out there”
those individuals and the interactions and experiences belong with me now: “Ve con Dios” the old people said to me on my first camino 14 years ago as I trudged through their tiny pueblos.Then as I smiled they clasped their hands together,made the sign of the cross with a “Rezo por mi en Santiago “
And what will I wear today? First Day of another life.And is this me?
Mon 9 March
Sitting at colon surgeons room , SJOG Hospital,Perth,Western Australia.Now corona virus about to implode .
10 people here all waiting And a woman just coughed. Another disease ,and don’t dare read the magazines sitting on a small table alongside the voucher
I had decided that this blog is to be about reentering the world , recreating identity, fun, joyful.
So Let’s dress up ,again.How do I want to look ? How do I want to be ?
I guess , what have I learned through this experience of cancer and chemo ? Because I need to retain those discoveries and new understandings .The most important of which is to focus on the greatest thing of all -life.To cease complaining and winging about the smaller things ,like who has done the washing up, lateness,an expression that annoys, a sore shoulder or twinge in that knee ,even written here they seem so innocuous.But within hours or even minutes I will be back into the spasmodic discontent and unhelpful stress .Perhaps a bit less than before and for a shorter duration .
So there I am in front of my array of clothes at home.The array of clothes I have just been sorting before I play dress-up with the new ones I have bought at the op shop on my way home from the hospital.The good news safely stored in my head .Been sorting again .Next will be cleaning and rearranging !but thats another blog.
So how do I want to look in this reinvented ,reimagined,tobelivedagain life?”
Well ,strong and fit. Lean and healthy.Like I know things.Like I am an interesting person( not just an old woman who is expendable in the current corona virus climate where only the old and immune compromised will die)Like I am kind, but not reliant on the kindness of strangers.Like I can relinquish ,or adjust long held views .Like I am fond of people ,have friends,but I am not reliant on any one person for my wellbeing .Like I am open to adventures ,still .
My values are as they were ,just hopefully I will focus more on them during this second chance at living :
Be adventurous ,Move beyond the kitchen, Be a good person .
And the processes ?
Writing and My life (energy.)To be continued -ie What do I do ?
So it looks like I have answered both questions in one -and a good thing too as this is a selfie blog, and how relevant is it to the reader ?( I hope there are one or two )
A while ago I copied : “Wisdom begins in Wonder”(Socrates).I think life begins in wonder ,and curiosity is imbedded in wonder.Wonder is the key .
Well it seems like I’m not the only one who haunts op shops and sales and gazes into shop windows as I pass .Checking my image as well as mentally redressing myself in different garments:
HOW do I look ?
How do I want to look though? And WHY do I want to look like whAtever or whoever ?
Well it’s never a fixed idea or want. I actually am ok with how I look,most of the time.Just as quite ok with where I am
But………lately I have been looking and acquiring clothes a lot. Constantly 💀.Chucking out and acquiring more clothes Often not wearing the garb ever again .
Back into my normal jeans, shirt scarf and earrings. LAtely the op shopping and stockpiling is connected with a shifting identity
With a Cáncer diagnosis there is a strong desire to cling onto the known ,to hold onto what can be held. But the known ,older self is shifting, dissapearing, parts are fading.So the putting on of new garments is more than the dress ups of old.Its both a checking and a searching .I feel different ,look different ? What can I add to how I look, with what do I replace what is perhaps lost forever?
So two selfies taken with the chemo bottle on , trying on a dress( which I’m proud I resisted buying )
The photo pure fun , squeezed into my grand daughters ballet dress
Others , my lovely daughter many years ago a dress I brought back from UK,she’s delighted and I felt guilty having left her to go off on N adventure.
And my equally lovely grandchildren. Full of life and fun and playing with colour and style and identity.
PS 3/3/20 Been given all clear . But will still dress up , for fun and joy
An old one -draft written last year as I prepared to tackle a new camino,the de La Lana(Wool route )from Alicante on southern coast of Spain to Burgos inland.All unknowing of the surprise sitting on my kitchen table on return -results of the poo test.I have now planned to return to Spain.I’m not planning to walk a lot but would like to spend time in a little village near Granada ,in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada.I hope to improve my Spanish and contemplate life
More of that later.This blogg is about the preparations and feelings around leaving for a new place.It is interesting today to re examine those feelings in the light of what is happening now, where the situation is different (Feb 2020).But also to realise as I read that the strong feelings of a year ago have diminished.Is it just time ,or different context,or am I now wanting to cull rather than gather?Will those feelings and deep concerns I now hold close loosen their grip as time goes by?Or rather will I loosen my hold on them, let them go and enjoy what I have,not mourn what might be lost, or worry about a future. Sounds like the song -time goes by.
The following paragraph is from a year ago,and written at the beginning of our Perth spring.But the sentiments still apply -the reluctance to leave the known, to opt out of routines and the security of home .
“But what of the blooming iris I’m leaving behind ?What of the suddenly magic weather -the crisp clean mornings followed by warm days .What of the garden I have been planting the last few days ?And the apartment next door that is being leased ,and have had to acquiesce in repainting -and colour changes .That has been the hardest -to go back into a space that was once ones own ,where so much energy has been given to creating a beautiful and special surrounding -the colours reflecting a personal search for happiness and serenity .Each corner means something ,or did to me :the purple door with MF,(Motherfunk) etched into it ,the first sound room for a recording of son so many years ago now ,the ochre walls reflecting colours seen in Spain /Morocco -orange is a happy assertive colour -the silver internal wall highlighting the coloured glass internal windows.Looking back from the pond outside there is a sense of reaching back into a timeless and ornate universe with starry surrounds.Goodbye ,let go “
These are the things I was packing into my backpack, and I will go through the same agonising about what to keep and what to discard each time I travel :
My shorts ,rarely worn on previous walks as either too cold ,or legs get scratched or sunburnt
assorted scarfs
earrings
assorted moisturisers
a spare pair of pants
an extra ,favourite coloured top
Other tops I like , so light they take no space ‘
assorted vitamins and pills
thermal pants
Merino gloves and beanie
Sun hat
extra hoodie
Rain jacket ( light ,and expensive ) and pants
Spare socks and liners
Change of underwear
Long merino wool dress ( why ?)
Phone charger and phone
Docs : guide to walk, just relevant pages , and Hostal info
Book to read / books ?
Walking poles
Etc etc etc
I need to have not more than 7 kg
Does anyone else have so much trouble ,and this after 6 caminos .Or is it part of the detachment and getting away ? I tell myself this as i get more and more stressed and pack and repack
Does my present life resemble this room ? Where there is a lot of stuff waiting to be sorted ,not used daily ,and needs to be got rid of but kept just in case ?
Or energies , talents and qualities lying dormant ,faltering and wilting in a muddled space?Closed door and windows so eventually there is only stale air and forgotten belongings
Sambasue21 