For a long time, writing helped me. As a teenager, I would wake up in the middle of the night to scroll down quick verses of a new song or an idealised phrase I had been mulling over during maths class that day. In college, I bought lots of pocketbooks to write ideas, phrases, notes and feelings down before they were forgotten about. It amazes me the variety of ideas I came up with and the innocence with which I wrote each page. When I re-read those notebooks and sheets of paper and post-its, I think "How lost was I?". I think it suprises the best of us that we are always going to be a little lost. That is the point of our existence; to find. To find peace, love, understanding, compassion and that simply being on this planet is sometimes enough. We torture ourselves with our critical minds that we should be doing more, better, smarter, stronger.
I turned 27 in March when it was -5 and bitter, snowing in the north and flooding in the south. This time last year, I got sunburnt shoulders in the back garden, happily sitting like a child, planting out seedlings for the coming harvest. I was sitting beside the man that I loved and wondering how I got so lucky to have found him and this situation and this life, that was still far from complete but since I was appreciating the present, felt full to the brim.
I have no typical illusions/delusions of what it means to be in my late 20's. The concept of having certain tasks of life completed at this point don't bother me. All I wanted was to be healthy and as happy as I could be depending on my circumstances. At the day of turning 27, I had had two months of anguish because the man that I love is no longer by my side. I hoped that he would be again. I hoped that he would appreciate me again and all the love and help I had given him. I hoped that I would be loved the way he used to love me before he started taking me for granted.
All these feelings prompted me to eventually reach a certain point of understanding. That life can be difficult and upsetting and painful but there is still so much to cherish. The trick, I think, is to enjoy every day as best you can, especially the challenging ones. They are the days we learn something new.
This realisation, that I think I will always have to prompt myself to keep in mind pushed me to write this post in facebook. I have so many beautiful friends all around the world that, though facebook is very invasive, it is a means of accessing a global community, a virtual universe. So I sent the post out, not just to my friends but to that virtual universe, in the hope that I could help even one person going through something similar to let them know that they are not alone.
Dear Universe. For a long time now I didn't know what the fuck you were doing. You created situations that hurt and upset me and I was just very unimpressed in general when I work so hard to make things right. Spring started yesterday and it was my birthday and you didn't seem to realise either of those things. There are gale force winds today and the sun is still hiding. I was not impressed. Now ...I realise that this winter was like a very big rock in the way and I was the river spending all my energy trying to break through. I've now decided to be creative and go around it and now I'm making my way again. This was possible because you gave me two amazing housemates who laughed and listened and ate copious amounts of birthday food with me last night. Then you helped my Mam, bundled up in a winter coat and hat, come to Sligo to drink tea, eat porridge, listen to each other, giggle, stay warm inside and eat colourful winter salads. There was a lot of beauty today and yesterday. And when you decide that Spring is finally here and we can all leave the longest winter ever behind us, I'll be ready to appreciate it for all its worth and I won't be so angry at you anymore. Love, Grace X
Well Spring arrived. It took me a while but in the end, I appreciated it. I got up everyday since the end of March and I tried. I took joy in the things I loved but had forgotten about and in doing that, I loved myself a little bit more each day.
I collected cockles, I marvelled at seedlings reaching for the sun on my balcony, I talked to my little plants, encouraging them to be strong against the cold winds, I made delicious food each day that I would want and took photographs as much as possible. I bought flowers each weeks-shining daffodil trumpets and welcomed them each morning I walked into the kitchen. I laughed. I sang along the the Big Lebowski soundtrack in the car. I breathed in sea air and silently meditated as I weeded the polytunnel. I took time for myself. I made lots of cups of tea. I stayed in touch with my little sister and helped her sell her stuff at the market. I made a big deal out of Easter. I made jewellery again. I said yes instead of I can't. I rose above the sick hurt in the pit of my stomach.
Why then, has he stopped getting in touch? Why then, does that lack of appreciation and love after only a few days affect me so much? Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there's another reason. Maybe he's just as confused as me.
The surf is back. The sun is out. It's only 9 degrees in the water but I'm going to do what my wonderful friend Mitch advised when he responded to my facebook post. "Paddle out and breath darlin' ". There is still a lot of learning to be done if my heart still hurts this much. There are many, many things to be grateful for, though. I live near the beach now, the surf is up, I have renewed friendships with so many people who care, the sun is shining, Spring is here and it's singing in happiness that it lasted this winter. So I'm going to get in my car, sing along the the Big Lebowski soundtrack, submerge and immerse myself in that beautiful water and as the water runs through my wetsuit as I duckdive down and caresses my skin, renewing it, forming a new layer of protection and nurturing care as only the sea knows how, I'll think to myself, "be good to yourself and breath....."
