When I first returned from the hospital my body tasted and smelled funny. Besides being assaulted by nearly continuous nausea, a state that I realise I’ve been in for a long time, I was confronted, puzzled by this unfamiliar taste and smell. I still have no sense of the smell of my urine because it is carefully carried from me from moment to moment by plastic tubes. My shit had no smell that I could discover.
It is now a week since I have returned to my bed, my apartment, my neighbourhood. I can smell and taste myself as truly myself, although neither the smell nor taste have reeked so far. This is somewhat of a miracle as I have had only two baths in that time. Gradually my shit became familiar to me, though not always. Remarkably large amounts of pro biotic yoghurt along with deeply offensive medicinal laxatives have moved me along in this area.
When I first returned my moods and impressions were unfamiliar as well. I had hours of teariness, not all of it sad. Bubbles and bubbles and bubbles of teariness, effervessencing through my skin. It was bliss to be with people. One on one, gift to gift, present to each of them, quirky as they all are. Waves and waves of exhaustion and no sense of a plan, a future, although always the question “should I be looking for a future?”
I have not been particularly afraid.
Gradually I begin to recognise the familiar moods, the familiar concerns of Judith. Yesterday and today there has been anger and annoyance – familiar, familiar, familiar. Why doesn’t this one answer a question? Why doesn’t this one do what she said she would? Why can’t I get things done on time? Will I end up having to do something that I cannot do again?
Ahh, but there’s the fear. Do I really want to return to the familiar Judith? Isn’t the very familiarity of myself what led me to do such damage to my body? That familiar phlegm in my throat – is it not too much sugar? That familiar dryness at the back of my tongue – is it not me trying to avoid having to take yet another pee which will exhaust myself and my assistant and take another 20 minutes out of our day? That drive, that anger, that annoyance, are they not a huge distraction from who I say I want to be?
And so I am at this point lost. I want to not be the person who nearly took me over the edge this time. I want to be way more present and way more joyful. I want to be someone I do not recognise. But I’m hanging onto the familiar shore.
Familiar shore can be trusted although it has become bankrupt. It got me to where I am, but was built in a lifetime that no longer exists either personally or socially. The familiar references nothing real, but yet it seems real just the same.
I have been blessed with a profound capacity for courage. Of all that I have been perhaps this is the most vital quality to guide myself with at this time. My courage is a true joy to me because it permits me to play where others will not go, over and over and over again to the dismay and amazement of many. It is a great source of humour as I become aged to perplex other people with my willingness.
Today I will begin to redesign my life. I am 9 days from my 61st birthday which is the 1st birthday of my 3rd cycle of 30 years – 3,1. What I will bring from my past is courage and willingness. The rest I will permit to shift.
Where am I going? So far what has emerged from the 2 weeks of re entry is that I am still committed to world peace through inclusion and still committed to the city team. Beyond and around that I am committed to being an artist. To me this simply means that I will say how it looks to me and paint how it looks to me and otherwise express how it is for me simply so that my perspective is alive and vital in the stream of perspectives, for no particularly greater or lesser reason than that. I am a point of view.
No comments:
Post a Comment