#167: But suddenly we seem to have a chorus
… and finally, in Cloud City, there appears to be some sun…
Living by an Estuary is hard work. Weather literally shifts in minutes. I suspect it is the same for anyone coastal or near a large body of water. Today, finally, it is sun on waking up, which has not been the case for several weeks. It just makes everything that bit easier overall. It also helps hugely that the pain of the last three days from my sciatic nerve has gone. Thank fuck for that.
Right. This week.
I should explain why there is a big issue with people I love going into surgery. My maternal great-grandmother, with whom I was very close, died under anaesthetic. As a result, it holds a lot of uncertainty and fear, which was not helped when my gallbladder failed, and they needed to get it out of me quite quickly. So yeah, I’ll be a lot happier when we make it to Friday unscathed.
Managing the unexpected begins with accepting that certain things are inevitable. Being resilient, planning accordingly and having contingencies in place is common sense. It’s not something enough of us think about until it’s too late, and you’re in trauma. I would say that a lot of my issues over the years have been exacerbated by refusing to believe I had agency in managing them. That is improving.
This is me practising sensible thinking.
Wednesday will see me in a format at the Arts Collective that is familiar to me: go work on your writing in a conducive environment, then have the opportunity to read it to an audience. I’m gonna take the Exercise Poetry with me and have a couple of hours looking at what there is on paper at present before planning my next steps. After that, it’s another of many networking exercises this month.
I’ve worked hard over the last 15 days. A lot of writing was already done, but we’ve made some important steps forward on immediacy and editing. After that, it’s accepting that I’m not done with trad publishing just yet, and having things constantly in contention keeps me keen and accountable. It’s also the internal belief that there is the chance of a step forward if I keep going.
We often give up hope just before something significant shifts our entire landscape.
If we get to Saturday and everything is still reasonably normal, I will be very happy indeed. That is the ultimate goal: just live this week, and be able to go out on Saturday night and enjoy being in an Open Mic for a change. There’s nothing to prove, and simply the opportunity to have a decent time. We get to that, and we celebrate, and that frankly will be enough.
Absolutely EVERYTHING else will be a bonus.