Shattered but still whole

My glasses snapped this morning. The damage is irreparable. Oh well. In the grand scheme of things, whilst irritating, and somewhat inconvenient, I have another pair (several, actually) and they are replaceable. I have had several pieces of news recently that have caused me to pause, and think about the truly precious nature of time, and how life really is too short to sweat the small stuff.

There are things over which I have no control. Shit happens. As M. Scott Peck so wisely wrote: Life is difficult (The Road Less Travelled, 1978/1992, p.13). Good, so now we've come to terms with that, we can actually get on with it.

In her poem, A Summer Day, Mary Oliver posed the question: Tell me, what do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? It's well worth considering, given that this may well be it. I don't find this unpalatable, or even particularly maudlin. The opposite, acceptance gives me clarity and with it, a sense of true liberation.

I could, I suppose, patch the frames together. Even as a temporary solution, selotape would feel unsatisfactory. These are, after all, the lenses through which I view the world. They shape my perspective, and afford me my focus. Sometimes, it's time to say goodbye, and let go of those things that no longer serve us., or that aren't doing their job to the requisite standard.

I admire and resonate with Diane Ackerman's sentiment in her statement: I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well. 2012 is well underway, and glasses or no glasses, I'm determined to make the most of it.

Comments

Table. Apple. Penny.

Whilst there were several places I might have been that morning, I wouldn't have been anywhere else. The practitioner from the Memory Service arrived promptly. I liked her instantly. Mum was nervous. I think I was a little, too. It's been a difficult year. "It's Friday, it's the fourteenth of December and I'm at home..." No problems there. CAMCOG, or the Cambridge Cognitive Examination is a thorough assessment tool used to assess the extent of extent of dementia, and to assess the level of cognitive impairment. The standardised measure assesses orientation, language, memory, praxis, attention, abstract thinking, perception and calculation. "Table. Apple. Penny." Three everyday items that were introduced at one point, and then referred to again later on. Again, Mum was able to recall each. I am reminded that the...

Glass half full? Glass half empty? Or perhaps the glass is broken

I am, constitutionally, a glass half empty gal. I will always first acknowledge what I don't have, what I have lost, and what it is that I am seeking. I tend to overlook my strengths, concentrating only on those bits of me that are underdeveloped or weak. I refer to myself as a realist, but in doing so compliment myself and insult those who genuinely are simply realistic. My modus operandi is to identify what's not working and acknowledge this before seeing more clearly what functions perfectly well. This has its place: I edit others' written work pretty well. My fastidious attention to detail serves me, and the author. Accuracy counts, for me and I have an excellent memory. I can remember a great many of my sessions with clients verbatim. Even this asset is something I can, and do, diminish the true value of, by concentrating on 'I should have said...' or 'why didn't.... occur to me during the session?' Earlier this we...

Pausing in the sunshine

And so, chemo is over. My best friend's diary has been chocker... Line cleans, blood tests, scans and 18 weekly doses of the gruelling treatment itself. Summer seems at last to have arrived and with it, we hope, some time, peace and space. She is, we acknowledged over a rather yummy luncheon served to us beneath the beautiful canopy of creepers and climbers at Petersham Nurseries, an inspiration. A small group of us gathered to celebrate her forthcoming marriage. The sun's rays joined the warmth we all have for this very special woman. Warmth and, in my case at least, pride. It is the greatest privilege to call this woman my best friend. She continues to epitomise my understanding of grace. Our bodies are fragile things. Our minds are frailer still. In her composure and wisdom, she possesses an outlook I can only aspire to adopt. From you, dear Charlotte, I learn and I learn and I learn. The ...

The Reward is the Journey

Search This Blog