Dear M
I cant remember what I said to you in our last FaceTime call though it was only yesterday. In the surface of here and now I couldn’t tell you anything that matters. Especially as our days now seem filled with a lot of weightless things, things made of saw dust floating in the ether that I cant grasp and send forth in those calls. Our life reminds me of a fantasy world cut off from its source of light parts of it starting to disappear. There’s an urgency in these written words to makes things whole again, to make something out of these shapeless days , these nothings that seem to happen everyday now.
There’s nothing of character about today. There was a time when I would yearn for sunny warm days. Blue skies and warmth surround us but its losing its meaning somehow by becoming normal. And then there is that ever present kernel of discomfort which tells me its not another holiday. I want it to be though. The human mind is amazingly resilient in its ability to find means of escape. It wants to me to let the sun in to let’s it’s warmth make me drowsy with forgetfulness.
Lethargy is slowly creeping in my little sporty boys soul. Leaving the house is hard. Although we’re meant to leave the house the moment he wakes us for our run, he prevaricates, negotiates, gaining time with just one YouTube video and I give in. I understand. I feel it too this weight thats always present now always waiting to push us down. The temptation to just sit there indulging in the feeling of being heavy is so strong.
But we do manage to get out, though 1 hr late. The concept of time has changed and 1 hr late means nothing. Time starts when you do things. You record it then. Yesterday was not Thursday. It was the day we ate grilled peri peri chicken and danced around being silly in the evening. It may have seemed we were having a party. we did but it was with a deliberateness you may not have noticed at first glance. I could see the despair creeping into my little boy so I pushed myself into being merry and he followed the dance. J Sat there a bit puzzled but still understanding the game.
We did go out and run today morning, after a chat about different types of survival – mental and physical. How do you teach gratitude without being preachy or losing their interest. How are 9 yrs olds who’ve never experienced hunger to understand it. But he did. Just referring to things outside our little world seemed to make them real. I could see the words coming out of my mouth creating people and worlds, right in his bedroom where we sat down to talk while getting his clothes out.
And then we were out. Things came alive the day sparkled and held us while we rhythmically breathed moving through the space and got absorbed in its beauty.
Love
Me
Freshly mixed hues 