Weak by week

Posted on 02 September 2006

What to write about? It’s been a week since I last blogged and yet, when I look back on my week, I can’t think what I have been up to that’s worth relaying.

But I have a friend who stopped blogging for a month. Every day I would check if she had published a new post but no, no, no all month long. Until yesterday. And I sigh with relief. I like reading my friends. I feel a part of their life even when I am too far or too busy to get together.

I think of police interrogations on tv shows where a cop asks a suspect “what were you doing on the night of August 28th, 2006″ and the suspect immediately replys “that was the night that I went to The King’s Head with my pal Joey. We drank a couple of beer and then I went home and watched the Twilight Zone.

I have to look at a calendar – preferably one where I have noted my appointments – and so I check the past week.

On Sunday, Rob and I took Gill and our eldest son out to a restaurant to celebrate his birthday. On Monday, Rob left, with a large suitcase, to shoot a week in mission and Gill and I went shopping at London Drugs. Tuesday night – Gill’s last night in Vancouver – she invited a bunch of friends over and we ate salad and pizza. It blew me away to see her friends who I have known since grade school, standing around, wine glasses in hands, chatting like adults. Oops, they are adults.

Wednesday morning, I drove my fair daughter to the airport and off she flew to Toronto to begin her second year of university. It wasn’t so difficult seeing her off as I will join in her Toronto in less than two weeks. In the evening, I went to dinner at a petite French restaurant with my friend Helen and then on to Bard on the Beach to see Troilus and Cressida, a little known play about men and war. The director chose to set the play in the deep south during the civil war and I for one, disliked this. I know it worked on the movie Romeo and Juliet but I found the cast of many characters – some actors playing more than one role – speaking old English, with southern accents, confusing. And the womens’ roles- not minor characters usually (for example, Helen of Troy and Cassandra) – made minor. If I were Shakespeare, I would have given the women more lines, more influence over the men but, as I write this, I see that I am unrealistic. Even with the war raging at the moment, women have next to no influence or say.

Thursday and Friday are a blur. Friday, I didn’t dress till five when I had to run out and get groceries. For two days, I organized paper – changed most of our monthly bills, on the internet, to paperless accounts so we will receive notice anywhere in the world. I also made appointments for the car to be overhauled, for the carpets to be cleaned, for Rob for a chiropractic session and held several meeting for potential work… and cleaned the house and did mountains of laundry. I know myself well and, if I don’t do all this now, it will not be complete before I leave for Toronto on the 12th.

Oops, I also began sending out invitations for Rob’s 60th birthday in October in Greece. And still, I have much to do.

This recounting of my week, to my mind, is drab. Didn’t you have an interesting thought, I ask myself. A few. When all seemed too much, when I was filled with angst, when I wanted to lambast myself for not revelling in my extraordinary life, I thought of Joanna Field, how in A Life of One’s Own, she explores happiness and speaks of – I cannot remember her terms – of something like wide and narrow vision – how to zero in on what is in front of oneself – how to focus on it so nothing else exists. For me, when I am on top of things, this works. Narrow your focus, I tell myself. Narrow it, so those nagging voices in your head, have no room. Nothing is important except the task, the sight, the person, in front of you. Listen hard…

I have also been thinking about change, just how difficult it is to change, to alter one’s way of doing things. And yet it is possible, I know, because I have changed over the years. Sometimes it happened slowly – through thinking, thinking, thinking – until one day I woke, and saw that something had shifted without me realizing the process. I was where I wanted to be.

And sometimes change happened with an epiphany, that felt like a flash of light entering my body. (The image I see here, is a painting of the Virgin being impregnated by the Holy Spirit.) Oh, such a wondrous liberating experience. I want more epiphanies. I would like to break old habits and feel strong and free. I want to put into effect what I intellectually think is necessary for my well-being but can’t cope with emotionally. I am speaking about trusting myself and doing what I feel is good for me, no matter that no one else understands. I want to feel tough enough not to mind negative feedback. And yet I am still too fearful. Be patient, I tell myself…

And so my week has passed…

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