After months of busyness and exhaustion, I’m beginning to recover. Maybe it’s the prospect of long days in the middle of nowhere, or family time with Nana and Grandad. Or maybe it’s dancing free weeks ahead. Whatever the reason, I’m chuffed to feel the space, to consider that I can use that, to feel that all my energy isn’t being subsumed by just keeping going.
Today, tasks seem like a bit of work, rather than enormous, shapeless mounds which defeat me as soon as I think of them. I’m going to apply for a part time job. I don’t expect to be considered for it, But I’m going to apply anyway, because I think I’d be great for the organisation. (Where did that confidence come from? I hope it stays.)
I’m going to figure out how to be organised. Rumour has it that nifty apps make that easier than I’d think. I just need to learn how …
I’ve had plans, for far too long, to add all sorts of patient information and rare disease information to the blog, so I know where I can find it. That would teach me how to curate content, which is apparently a good thing. I can do that.
I even applied for a bursary to go back to the summer school I was at a few years ago. Memoir, poetry, talks, drama- how exciting would that be?
Our book club recently read Station Eleven, by Emily St John Mandel. There’s a lot to like about this book- don’t let it’s partially post apocalyptic setting put you off- but I particularly enjoyed how Shakespeare and music continue to survive and enhance lives. There is humour and empathy, murder and broken hearts. There are lists of what’s lost and a museum of the pre apocalypse mundane. There is a wonderful reference to Star Trek Voyager, as the motto of the Travelling Symphony is ‘Because survival is insufficient.’
I like that sentiment. I want to do more than simply survive. I want to have fun and be inspired. I want to connect and challenge. I want to learn new things, and share the things I already know. I want to laugh on beaches and cry in chapels and snuggle on sofas (or any variation on those). I want to spend time with my people and have little adventures together.
We know that my ME means that my grand plans may stay as simply plans, but we know also that I like to mark the good moments, to remember that behind the added weight, the pyjamas, and all the snoring there are times I feel like myself. That’s always worth celebrating.