Saturday 25 September 2021

Sometimes not always

 I can be a little slow.

I have always been a black-and-white, 100% kind of person. Take food, for instance. I am utterly useless at those kind of diets where you go easy on sugar, where you don't go mad with the bread, where you just eat a little of something. I'm always like, "Are we eating this or not?"

In my endeavours to do pretty much anything, I tend to see the results in terms of success or failure — I can do this, but I'm no good at that. If I don't succeed, I give up. If I can't go all the way with one of my ecological aspirations, I think half measures won't do.

In the last year or so when I've had health problems, I've given up doing more and more things until life has become distinctly limited — naturally this was accelerated and intensified by actual lockdown!

But I realised today (this is what I mean, I can be a little slow) that it's not necessary to categorise everything as Things I Can Do and Things I Can No Longer Do. There's another, much larger category of things I might be able to do, let's see how I feel today. 

Last night I was so tired and everything hurt so much that I went to bed early with the thought that I'd have to cancel plans for today — a visit I've been looking forward to. But then I thought, well, the day before yesterday I managed all the man-handling of badger-defeating stones at the garden centre, so maybe today will be like that day. 

I also decided to re-categorise how I feel as "have been unwell" instead of "growing old" — because after all, you see lots of old people nipping about like mountain goats achieving all kinds of things.

Perhaps this is one more aspect of living in the Now that I need to learn — seeing what today brings, and being present to its possibilities.

8 comments:

Suzan said...

Hugs my sweet friend. I have had three days of agony after helping one of my girls. I expected today to be the same but it wasn't and I am thankful.

God bless.

Pen Wilcock said...

That's exactly what I mean! It's worth not giving up. You never know. x

Anonymous said...

Oh yes Pen- just as the sun rises and sets so does our energy…and that’s something I’ve been allowing myself too. We can’t be Herculean all the time and life throws us many things to deal with. I have often noticed those wise and gentle green renaissance people are just walking or stroking their cats/dogs, making a pot of tea, contemplating, watching the sun, the water, being thankful…often aged and appreciating the good things. One gentle thing at a time. I like that x Deb

Pen Wilcock said...

"One gentle thing at a time" — Amen to that! x

Rebecca said...

Oh, how I needed this! Thank you. ❤️

Pen Wilcock said...

Waving to you, my friend! May you happy, may you be peaceful, may you be contented, may you be free. xx

Bonnie Dann said...

Hmm... I might amend that to "feeling less well." Feels a tidge more optimistic and in keeping with your sort of sliding scale.

Pen Wilcock said...

Hi Bonnie — waving! "Feeling less well" would make sense if it was about feelings, but I had specific illnesses, from which I'm now recovering. To me (we are respond differently, perhaps) the idea of "feeling less well" has a quality of uncertainty — it might return, a sliding scale just as you said — whereas "have been unwell" implies something I can now put behind me because it's over (provided I observe the right health pathway). So that feels more optimistic to me. Though I have to admit I am a pragmatist through and through, and realism always appeals to me more than optimism!