Pain. I want to cry. The losses come in waves that throb in time with my pain. What can I do? I can write – it centres me, anchors my restless mind, brings my hemispheres into harmony. I organize thought, string sentences, all the while weighing their cadence, listening for the spot where emphasis falls. Like catching a ball – I position a strong word to catch it, rolling it round my mouth till I can taste the sentence,
It is stabilizing. The tears recede and my realitity wobbles less. I know I have a choice. Hold onto that word. I can sink or swim – cliche!
It is like pulling my feet out of a bog, almost too hard, despair sucks like mud. It can be done; it must be done. If I don't take hold, I will drown. I can't argue with the facts, I can't bully myself into cheerfulness and it doesn't help to think of those worse off. It is always supposed to cheer you up, but I have no psychic energy left to support another. And it just casts a greyness over life, a pall of misery.
I need to believe in life, in hope, in joy. I need to give thanks – if not for my life, for someone else's. If someone, somewhere is excited, dancing, succeeding then life is hopeful, joyous and because we all are one, so am I. When I first realized I would never write a book, because I can sit and type for only a few minutes at a time, when I first accepted that, I made a point of looking at the author's picture on the dust cover and feeling glad for them. It worked and I no longer mind.
Choice! Find the still spot, the NOW, disengage the monkey mind, that centre of critical analysis which judges and compares. The ego centre assessing the value of my life, listing the losses. Remember Eckhart Tolle: find the NOW. Whatever I do, the pain will be there (years of failed therapies and interventions tell me that), but I can choose the lighting, where the spotlight shines, the texture of my days, the peace of NOW. It is my choice – and I must make it.
This was written in real time as it happened. It is not a memory, but the minute by minute struggle to equilibrium. This was a very bad moment, not an everyday one. However, this is what it is like when one hits the wall, The struggle worked; I moved into peace and, today, am content. It is important to remember that pain is like a beach, the tide flows in and out, one is pummelled by waves and then hours later, the sand is smooth and lit by sun.