Tuesday, 12 May 2020

Empty

I had thought of handing this blog post over to Mabel the Cat to write but she'd only moan about how the Humans are getting under her paws. She'd reminisce about the days when she could choose her spot for a morning nap without interruption and her afternoon siesta would be spent in blissful silence. Now she has to listen to strangers shouting out from tiny squares on a computer screen, strange sounds from that 'darned piano' and endless discussions about meals. 'Just open a sachet of Whiskas and stop whinging,' would be her advice.

So for all the above reasons I am resigned to writing it myself. I've not a lot to say. I've not stepped out of the front door for over seven weeks. I wake up in the night wondering what the outside world looks like these days. Empty, I suppose. Empty also describes my diary and possibly my life - but is empty bad?

For the first time ever I have had the time to smell the roses - ok, maybe not roses, not yet, but lilac. I've been smelling the lilac every time I walk round the garden - walking and thinking and reassessing. A number of people I know have done just that and have decided that this is not the way they want to live. We all have free will but maybe it takes a major pandemic to make us stop, examine our motives, and decide to move in a different direction. I'm still pondering mine but one thing I know for sure. I never want to return to the manic life I was leading a few months ago.

And now I shall return to my piano practice, never mind what Mabel the Cat says. I'm rather enjoying working my way through my Easy Listening collection and you just can't beat a bit of Phil Collins...

"...You're the only one who really knew me at all. So take a look at me now. There's just an empty space..."

6 comments:

  1. Yes, I suppose this is a good time to decide to make changes, so think away. I don't want to make any. I just want to go back to the life I had - but it wasn't manic.

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    1. Thanks, Miriam. Hope we don't have too long to wait.

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  2. I know how you feel after nearly 9 weeks at home. I long to see hills and trees and flowers and the sea. On the other hand I’m learning to draw and do calligraphy. I’ve brought my sewing machine out and I’m making face masks for the family. I’m also getting through my reading pile but I’d give it all up to hug my grandchildren.

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    1. Hi Anne, drawing and calligraphy sounds really therapeutic. Hugging grandchildren is something I'd love to do too.

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  3. It's been interesting to be so introspective these days. And I do go to work,but I question myself there - it's a small company. I feel safe enough - we spritz plenty of cleaner about. My weeks start out strong, but by Friday night I tend to have a bit of a meltdown. Poor Ray - he's there to just say, "it's all okay." We're in this together...but alone, as the ads say. I've lucky to have had some patio socialization with a friend or two. I bring my own chair, come in through a gate, sit, chat, and leave in an hour. That helps - maybe you can do that with some family? And smell the lilacs too.

    Take good care and I feel you on this post...but you aren't empty - you do have words and music. I like Phil Collins. I think Mabel does not recognize the genius!

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    1. Thanks Joanne. Patio socialisation is a great idea restrictions have eased in the UK to allow meeting with a friend outside the house but apparently not in our back gardens. It’s all very confusing but, yes, Ray is right. We're all in this together. Take care.

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