The words of Anita’s poem today, What Remained, have set me thinking.
Really thinking, something I don’t think I have been doing much of lately.
I have a really good built-in autopilot, so sometimes I don’t need to switch my brain on, and most of the time it works well, especially if I don’t feel well. (Like lately!) Just don’t ask me what I have been doing all day, because I won’t be able to tell you!
I must be getting better, for I am definitely thinking.
Those words have me wondering what will come after I have gone. Have I created anything worth being remembered for?
I like to think I have done my best so far, even though the last two years have been a nightmare, coping with the pandemic, being a carer and everything else… but it doesn’t seem like the best to me, so I think that is what my brain is trying to tell me.
I know from past experience that it is possible to create anything with enough determination, even when it feels impossible.
However, it is never easy, and the only reason I mention it is that I remember how I felt afterwards. I think I need to feel that again, so planning a think up weekend to see what I can come up with…
I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend, with lots of good things and great thoughts!
The sun was out in full force, and a gentle breeze diluted the unexpected heat. The perfect time to catch up on all those jobs that have been waiting for me…
And best of all, working with my bonsai and the new seedlings really did me good. Somehow, I stopped worrying about everything, my mind freewheeled and I relaxed, probably for the first time in ages.
Consequently, I feel decidedly odd in the office today. I keep looking out of the window, knowing where I would rather be. But, there are jobs that need me indoors and there will be family cooking later on today.
I hope you all enjoy your weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday!
I twist and turn, trying not to wake. It’s Saturday, 7am, the weekend looms. I lie there, count the polystyrene tiles on my ceiling. The one tile with the corner missing. Reminds me that I have been meaning to remove it. A job that has been on the top of my list for months I pull the covers over my head, trying to grab more sleep. I imagine I am lying in silk sheets, a four-poster bed. I live in splendour. No cracked tiles The maid will bring breakfast at precisely 9 am Who am I kidding? That kind of magic is for fairy tales. I remove myself from the trap known as my bed. Open the window, clear the air. Let the stale thoughts from the night out. I stand in front of the window. The air cool, the sun not warm yet I give myself a proposition. A cause celebre, run down the street naked Shake things up, get myself arrested. I decided best not to do that. Take a walk through the woods at the bottom of my garden Find my own kind of magic…