A window. And breathe.

Everyone is online nowadays, but still there are people for whom it's a lifeline.

Back in 2006, emerging from a whirlpool of stress and trauma with one disaster after another, I married Tony, left my work and moved right away from my family, to settle near his work in a place where I knew exactly no one. As it turned out, the whole nightmare was only half through, because we had all manner of family ghastliness to live through, stretching on for years. 

I hadn't quite reached the place of autistic burnout I arrived at later, but I was in a semi-sleep-walking condition, and trying to figure out how to make life work with everything I was trying to process, all the sturm und drang still going down, and suddenly no job and no friends. Blimey. What a time that was. 

I enquired within, what on earth was I supposed to do now; and the answer came back very clearly, "Look at the blue." 

I had no idea what that meant, so I tried putting it into practice in every way I could think of — blue skies, blue flowers, blue clothes; wherever there was blue, I let my eyes rest on it to find its healing power.

Then I found my way to social media. At that time I hadn't heard of Facebook, but I did find my way to a place called Zaadz — "a community of inspired people dedicated to changing the world". There I was captivated by virtual reality; how you could have an online place you could wander in, just as you would in a town or village. 

Not long after that I discovered the online church of St Pixels, where I made several friendships that still abide to this day. At St Pixels I learned to blog, experienced participatory online worship, and found people of faith joining hands all around the world.

I remember in particular realising how many people were online because they were struggling. Kind, vivid, clever, funny, dear people — but there because they were kept indoors by ME, or housebound because they were caring for someone else, or living with chronic illness or depression or neuro-divergent conditions, or living through trauma from divorce or redundancy. The online world was full of those who were quietly struggling but consistently and bravely there for one another.

I learned that this was a place where people would come online at two in the morning because they couldn't sleep, to see if anyone else was up to keep them company; and sometimes I'd come across someone in London sitting and chatting with someone in Queensland.

At the same time, I began to attend Quaker meeting, and gradually made friends with Friends, and discovered the wonder of communal silence — how silence was like a lake or a sea, and we swam through it to emerge on the other side different because we had made the journey.

So, trudging through a stony and thorny landscape, lit with flashes of joy — not least, a new marriage — I made common cause with others who were struggling too; but I also began to unravel. And in truth I never found my way back again. It all went on too long and went down too deep.

And then last year I was ill, and somewhat heartbroken by yet another series of difficult events. Eventually I came to a place where physical pain was unrelenting and my soul just clenched into a spasm.

But, there is something I discovered years ago (I've had several goes round with significant depression, and had to learn how to manage it), which I still find to be true — there are windows; and you have to take a moment to breathe.

What I mean by windows, is that there are moments you can seize to lift you out of impossibility to possibility. When everything is dark, a chink of light opens up and you head there. You may be stuck, or exhausted, or in despair; but then there suddenly comes a moment when you are capable of making a phone call, or going outside; a day when you can dance, or you want to sing, or you find the courage to meet up with a friend. At times when you simply can't, have patience, wait and watch — and then when the chance comes and the window opens, fly through it; take the chance. Gradually you can strengthen your soul that way; you can optimise hope and faith and positivity.

And for taking a moment to breathe, I mean that when you are tired and knocked back, just sit down quietly for five minutes and give yourself space to re-group. At the present time, I have set myself the goal of at least walking round the block every day. This afternoon, I wanted to walk along to the grocery store to buy a cabbage and some onions, but I just couldn't summon the energy. So instead of forcing it, or giving up on it, I gave myself a moment to breathe. I sat down and read a story, which lifted my imagination, and at the end of it I was ready to go for a walk, so I went out for the cabbage and the onions, and I didn't walk too fast and it was okay.

I don't normally promote my writing on this blog, but I want you to know that you can use my books — particularly my fiction — to help in this kind of endeavour. Several of my books are written in short sections (perhaps especially this one and this one and this one and this one and this one), just bite-sized chunks so that if you are tired and stressed and cannot concentrate very well, or if you need somewhere to take refuge and something outside yourself to lean on, to help you gather yourself and try again, you might find it here. And they are written to lift you up, to give you hope, to help you get up and keep going. As the well-known Lavinia Byrne used the opportunity of a review, for The Church Times, to say of my Into the Heart of Advent: 

"There will, of course, be a readership among those seeking comfort rather than the challenge of too much reality. A Covid-19-free read: consoling, probably; relevant, not." 

Oh. Rats. It was written before the pandemic, though published within it (hence being Covid-19-free). Well, if you can cope with my unreality and irrelevance, and if you are part of that large online readership desperately in need of comfort, perhaps you will find it. If your heart is broken, perhaps it may console you, and help you put one foot in front of another for one more day.

It's also the case that if you write a comment on my blog, it doesn't automatically publish, it comes through to my email first. So if you need to yelp for help, you can write to me in a comment giving me your email address, and we can talk privately by email. 

If you are struggling, if it is all too much, give yourself a moment to breathe, and then try again — gently. If it is all dark, and you are lost and frightened and can't see any way ahead, sit quietly with it and ask God for help, and wait for a window of possibility to appear; and when it does, don't hesitate, take the chance.

And if all this resonates for you — well, God bless you; may you be strengthened, may you be peaceful, may you be free. xx