Sambasue21

I knew a not so old woman who lived

In a very ordinary 4×2

In an ordinary street

In an ordinary town

In a very very ordinary country.

As the years crawled  by

She felt herself falling

Into the gaps

As parts of her house collapsed.

Loving others stopped her falling for a while

Later doing good deeds and thinking good  thoughts

A constant smile

Kept her visible

In the crumbling walls.

She tried laughing as she stood  boldly hand on hip

Hoping that courage would do the trick

Dressed herself in bright colours

Talked loudly ,made  a nuisance of herself

Phoned family and friends at odd hours

Wrote  letters of complaint

But no one could see her it seemed ,even those she’d loved the most

Walked by without a sound

Stepping over  the rubble of her home.

Then she was reduced to clinging onto the jagged ends of bricks and glass

And screaming loudly for help

 

 

Nothing could keep her from disappearing.

Each day she grew dimmer and dimmer

Until she could just see by squinting and catching the light.

Next her hair started to go

Each morning she woke up

Stumbled to the  remainng bathroom mirror and looked

(as well as she could by squinting )

Each day the colour faded until pale bits of fluff floated onto the dirty floor

Mingled with the soil and blood .

Then her hips collapsed

Her shoulders went one at a  time

Next  her knees.

 

Until she was just a grey ,skinny stick

whom no one heard

no one saw

no one remembered

She had disappeared completely .

The last post I have put up is a cryptic  link to “Cant put off “word doc

My blog should be titled “A writer in search of some technological skills ”

I obviously haven’t managed to get the thing onto the blog ,despite trying and following the instructions Well will just have to stay as is ,and I guess readers will have to download the link ,if interested in reading .

Thoughts for today ? Well ,perhaps its easier just to write directly into this ,rather than agonise how to copy into.Any of my minuscule amount of followers out there -what do you do ? Hopefully the next entry will be within the year ,and will be fully supported .

Bye for now from me

 

Easter Rituals Salamanca ,Spain

Managed to do 2 exercise classes.Bought another rain jacket to replace a brand new one .(It was in my bike carrier which  i lost a few days ago ,swerving to avoid a motorist.Lost balance and the bike keeled over.)Had lunch ,cleared the sink, put out household rubbish and removed more from the floor. .Photographed cluttered windowsill where stuff from sink is waiting for a spot Resisted the temptation to deal with the moth infestation in cupboards or walk dog . Succumbed to the urge to add to facebook.Returned 2 phone calls but no answer so couldn’t spend time chatting
Finally retrieved my computer from the drawer.

I am an expert avoider and the minute my fingers touch key board or pick up a pen all the great ideas disappear completely .Not exactly:there is a vague memory of a great idea ,but once explored as a writing piece the great idea becomes just an idle thought.The extraordinary  idea reconfigures itself into an ordinary thought loaded with problems and contradictions .I have written in my head and nothing more needs to be said .
For the last few weeks two phrases have run round and round in my head :,”I am in mourning for my life”,I think it is Masha in Chekhov’s Cherry Orchard who announces this as she enters stage The other phrase is from the South African playwright Athol Fugards Hello and Goodbye .Hester says cynically ” A lot of people get by without any future nowadays “.Maybe it is time to write them out .

I certainly don’t feel those sentiments .But I am unsure of a sadness underlying each day.Perhaps there is a questioning of what is worth doing as life moves fast .Rather like that feeling of lostness when one first discovers death as a child; the  responses to the questions about whether the pet/person will come back ,where s/he goes ,who dies and when are never entirely satisfying .Despite the fact that  the count from 4 to 60/70/80 is a long time to the 4 yr old, it is still.challenging .There is a sense of time   moving ,and the first realisation of mortality.The question after”how old are you ?”is often “will you die ?’’

But the space between the beginning and end number compresses ,and becomes thinner as the years speed by and the  count between 70 and 80 is over before its started.

Why at this stage take on anything new ,or difficult ?However time continues to move, and unappreciated ,unlived time is tedious, prickly and anxiety ridden .

The well worn counselling question-“if you were to die tomorrow and wake up to your ideal world /scenario-what would it look like ?”
And of course “What words would you like written on your tombstone?” How do you want to be remembered ?are  not very subtle attempts to shift the persons thinking from a gloomy present to a lighter future ,and then to work with him/her to start creating that very future in the present

I am thinking right now if ,after 70 years on this planet there have been moments of sadness or  dissatisfaction  with life ,then I don’t think one has a fighting chance to change or to reinvent .Might be able to tweek life around the edges ,or recreate a different present when one of the components has dissolved or disappeared .I’m thinking here of death ,loss,illness ,or war .But given our human propensity for habit and settling into routines , don’t set much store on a very different future.

All we can do is plug on ,working in our imperfect human way towards an imagined end ,keep on attempting to  accept or change or shift some of the stuff that surrounds us ,learn more , love and be loved.

Spend less time being busy and more on loving ,learning and writing .

Easter rituals end joyously