Wednesday night.....writing tonight to clear the way for a productive morning. And today was largely a bust - not just for me but for so many people I talked to. Victor, Josh, we all hit brick walls today for one reason or another. Me? Think my new getting up at 5AM needs to be rethought especially if I get to bed at midnight. I didn't feel well, was exhausted by 9AM, got almost nothing accomplished, felt dispirited and then took a midday nap. Landmark - "Give up the feeling that something is wrong." But what do you do with a day like today? Finally I just said, the day is, what the day is and there is nothing wrong with having a wretched day with eating off balance, lists undone, cylinders misfiring. To think there won't be days like today is dumb - of course there will be - lots of them. Trick is to get the plates aloft again in the AM.
Writing group tonight. Even my writing was less than brilliant today. I don't hate what I wrote but it was like pulling taffy to get it on paper. Tomorrow - taking the middle of the day off for Welfare Sewing, looking forward to busy hands and the camaraderie that comes from a group of industrious women doing something worthy.
Tonight I'm thinking about how we cobble together our lives, taking our pleasure where we can, finding love in odd places. Cases in point. There were two remarkable unremarkable moments today that could be easy to overlook if I wasn't attuned. First, was what has become a really special 4PM ritual - apple-time. I started apple-time years ago on the advice of an old woman, a successful Weight Watcher who, when asked the secret of her success, said "Every day, an apple at 4PM". So, most days find me in the kitchen cutting an apple into thin slices and taking a small plate, mounded with apple slices, to the sun room where I eat them peacefully and slowly. Turns out Joey likes apples too and so lately we share the apple. He's peaceful too - doesn't gulp, takes his slice gingerly in his mouth and then carries it to the other side of the rug where he sits and eats it slowly. Then he lazily comes back for another slice and so forth until we've finished the apple together. I love that time with him sharing an apple - think it's special for him too.
And tonight, as I entered the house after writing group, I walked into the kitchen to find Shay and Josh talking happily and cleaning up the mess I left from baking a cake for Women's Club tomorrow (didn't have time to clean up). They were animated and delighting in doing something for me - wanted me to come home to a clean kitchen. How sweet and loving is that? I love my men. Love making a home even if the inhabitants are unexpected, temporary and unrelated - we take our love in odd places.
Here is one of the pieces I wrote tonight. The prompt was three random pictures taped together from which I had to construct a story: two punkers getting married, a crocheted lap blanket on a chair in a library, and a picture of a dandelion.
When the lunch dishes were cleared, the orderlies gone and Mrs. Mountbatten retired for her afternoon nap, Sophie passed out the wedding invitations which were nothing more than napkins penned with "Sophie and Ahmed - wedding tonight - midnight - rec room." Everything had been planned to a tee - Ahmed had seen to it that the rec room would be opened. And it turned out Spike was an ordained minister - he used to have his own church before his breakdown. Fatima was Sophie's maid of honor and had fought Ajax for the honor, literally the two friends duked it out, Ajax's lip split open, Fatima's eyes swollen shut. Scissors paper, stone - problem solved and friendship thankfully restored.
Fatima was in charge of wardrobe, appropriating bits and pieces from the psych ward - stashed in the sleeves of her army jacket. A crocheted lap blanket from the sanctuary would be draped around Sophie's waist, the mesh pull-back curtains layered and sewn into a make-shift veil, even a sign for Ahmed's back - "Just Married." Fatima also made noisy strands of soda cans to to attach to Ahmed's boots so that when he walked they would clatter behind as if he were a newly-wed car. "Hey, desperate times..," she thought. There would be no honeymoon for Sophie and Ahmed, no get-away car. At least they could have the tin cans.
It was the flowers that flummoxed Sophie and Fatima. The carefully manicured grounds of Lakeview Sanctuary were sterile and devoid of anything but the severest evergreens. And it was April, so even if there had been some wild flowers or flowering shrubs, it was too early. Definitely no lilacs or forsythia to pilfer. It didn't seem auspicious - a wedding with no flowers but Sophie pushed down her unease and focused instead on how lucky she was to have fallen in love with Ahmed. Ahmed, who was fine 9/10ths of the time except when he had night episodes where he hurt people - because of the motorcycle accident.
Ahmed loved Sophie immediately. "You're the one for me," he had said, the first day she arrived. He got her off the drugs, sometimes bribing the orderlies, sometimes taking them himself - he loved Sophie that much.
"Twas almost midnight. Sophie and Fatima and guests were assembled - Ahmed was late. Finally, his footsteps and that unmistakable chuckle. "She's going to love these," he said to his best man Carlos as they rounded the corner. And in he walked with armfuls of dandelions. Flowers after all.Thanks for reading. It's such a challenge to get the idea down on paper within the requisite 15-20 minutes. I could have gone on and on. This is Thursday morning now - just wrote half the blog last night. This morning laying in bed with Obi curled up against my neck purring - another purr-fect morning, looking out onto the huge elm tree, letting feelings and fears wash through me, determined to get the plates aloft this morning. "It's OK to stumble," I assured myself. Josh walked by my open bedroom door. "Good-morning," I called out. "Do you feel better this morning?" "Yes," he replied, then realized he was in a safe place where bullshit is left at the door with the shoes. He amended his answer, "No, I don't." "Neither do I," I said but let's have a great day anyway.
Your challenge for today, if you are feeling what must be some kind of astral, celestial, enervating force like Josh, Victor and I are experiencing, is pushing through. Thinking some days it's easy to embrace it all, float on the air of all life's wonderful possibilities, apply easy and concentrated focus to all that's before us. Then there are the molasses days like yesterday when nothing comes easy. By now you know that no one guaranteed you easy. Hang in there and have a great day, despite.
Peace,
Sarah
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