I’m still very new to this blogging world, but have seen a few blogs from A Chronic Voice in the last year and decided to do some more investigating. It turns out that blogging can be more two-way than simply leaving a comment at the bottom – who knew?! Certainly not me, until now. Part of my reason for starting a blog in the first place was to almost ‘force’ myself to write more as part of ‘self care’; to keep my mind still working and feeling like I’m connecting to others. This has been a big change compared to the ‘old me’ and my ‘old life’. I may well take part in future months writing prompts with A Chronic Voice community, but I’d also like to investigate others who are doing similar ‘link ups’.
“To organise something again in order to make a new effort, especially after a defeat”
Work ‘defeated’ me due to my poor health so this prompt of regrouping really spoke to me. I now feel that I may still have something more to offer in terms of the skills I have developed around organising for change in the last few years, or research skills from doing my Masters. There might be a period of ‘regrouping’ to help me feel like I’m contributing to where it feels really needed, and in way that doesn’t compromise my health like my previous, high-energy job did. Perhaps, as the definition suggests, I could ‘regroup’ and it might not even be ‘less’ than before.
It’s a continual balancing act to know what will boost me, and what will bring me down. Often, it’s a case of both. Part of living on a narrow boat inevitably, is to go through some locks. In my last blog post I talked a bit about the pros and cons physical activity, and working locks is definitely physical! It’s been trial and error, but overall I think I prefer doing the physical work of ‘locking’ rather than the mental work of steering the boat in so that everything doesn’t gets knocked off the walls inside! Plus this way I get to increase my activity levels which I’m particularly keen to do. So at least if I’m brought down by the physical work of the locks, I’m boosted by knowing that being active is good for me mentally, and for it to act as a hopeful ‘daily drug’ against migraine.
There’s just been a brief hailstorm. I’m inside with the wood burner on and a lovely autumnal-coloured wool blanket that my Dad gave me over my feet. I can see the sky, trees and blossom from the small porthole windows while the larger ones remain shut against the cold. You know when you wake up suddenly and don’t know where you are? I now have that feeling during the day as we stay a few hours, one day, or one week at different places. I’ve found I prefer this experience to the waking-up-at-night one; it makes me feel it’s OK not to know. The unsettled setting is, paradoxically, settling.
I remember writing a poem in an English class school at about 15 years old, and being told by the teacher that ‘Oh no, you don’t write it [ever]; you read others and write about them‘. Being critical and analytical was clearly the goal rather than being creative. However, I’ve been lucky enough to meet some amazing people who have persuaded me that creativity has lots of different guises, and can be very therapeutic. Thanks to a few kind words recently, I’ve decided to revive this interest in writing poetry.
Three years, tick tock
Three years, knock knock
Three years, says time
Three years of mine
Three years, three homes