Hello everyone. I hope that you are ok. I have had a quietish week, really. I don't know what it's like where you are, but it has rained EVERY SINGLE DAY here in Plymouth for the last week. In fact, it has probably rained longer than that. I think I have been noticing it more for the last week. I got quite a lot done at work because I spent more of it in my little office rather than going out into the main offices and having a chat (or "managing" as I like to call it). I have found January quite a slog. I came across an Instagram post this morning (Kathryn Segal, in case you are interested). Kathryn is a young Christian woman, mum of two, preacher, minister's wife. She has it all going on. Still, she put a post up on Instagram stories saying how difficult she finds this time of year. She says she has tried everything - making sure she gets outside, Vitamin D, praying, reading, wintering with crafts, etc. Nothing seems to help. By the way, she doesn't seem wussy or anything. She's had plenty of "proper" issues, actually, including early Breast Cancer, so she knows a proper crisis when she sees it. Can I make a confession? I'm struggling a bit with this time of year myself. I was talking with HOH about it, and he is a bit the same. He is, however, mainly affected because the weather is so bad that he can't sea swim. This is partly because the wind and waves are so full on, going into the water would be like appearing in The Poseidon Adventure and having to hold on to upside-down chandeliers with Shelly Winters. Also, South West Water loves inclement weather so that they can scatter all their extra sewage along the shoreline. You may well think that going into the sea in sub-zero temperatures is not the most normal way to deal with winter blues, and you would be right. However, each to his own.
I am trying to get to the sea as often as possible. (Although I wouldn't do anything as weird as actually going in.) I'm reading, getting to the pictures, eating cake, and generally trying to do things, not lie face down on the sofa.
I saw something this week from someone who said that she found her mood improved when she kept a gratitude journal. Has anyone else done that? I have tried that in the past, but have felt a bit daft, so I am not sure that it is for me.
I think that when I feel a bit low like this, I have to first chase down if there is actually anything happening to cause it. Because it's no good wanging on about deep breathing and crocheting robins if you are struggling with stuff that is actually happening. We are in the middle of remedial cladding work, and behind scaffolding and a building cover. It will take months and possibly a year or so. The car park is closed, and this means you think twice about going out because you are not sure if there will be space to park locally. A young woman had to park 20 minutes away last week after coming home late from work and she was certain she was followed home. Work is a lot at the moment, and we are dealing with the entirely expected physical effects of being older. So that is a comfort because there are things pulling at my equilibrium and I'm not just being a mardy. (I'm sure we could all come up with many worse things that could happen. )
Katherine May, in her wildly successful book "Wintering", talks about stopping wishing that it was summer, being a good start. We are where we are now. Also, life is not just a series of experiences to chase. Sometimes, it is as much a part of life to slow, dig deep and just experience being here. I think those of us who have had life-threatening diseases can have a tendency not to sit still unless we absolutely have to, because we don't want to miss out.
Maybe we measure life all wrong. Life is not a series of beautiful Instagram posts (well, mine certainly isn't - you should have a look). My friend's family has just welcomed a new baby into the family. A baby with Down's Syndrome. Possibly the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. Not to minimise the challenges that undoubtedly lie ahead, there's a vast amount of joyful life ahead there as well. We should be making more room for those who don't have all the advantages, who won't be able to climb a mountain (or climb onto the bus, to be frank).
And, I would do well to remember that even if I can't summon the wherewithal sometimes, we are watched and covered. The poet Carol Ann Duffy wrote
Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer utters itself
which is also true and a huge comfort, I think.
Having said all this about slowing and stopping, we have some days in London coming up (providing the Dawlish train line isn't floating out to sea), so I may or may not be rocking up here next week. I know you aren't on the edge of your seat, but I'm from the North. We have manners. You shouldn't be left in the lurch. Have a good week.
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