Monday 26 October 2009

The Offbeat

Life in the slow lane was an odd place for me to be found ever, I was energetically ignited, had some major fire in my belly and a mind full of adventurous wanderings. One day I woke up, was shoved quite rudely into a corner, pinned down and shackled to the wall by M.E. I was given a very finite and closed space within which to move, if I try to venture past I’m quite sharply reminded by my constraints, they inflict pain and severe unrelenting exhaustion. As I’m sure you can imagine it took a little while for me to become accustomed to my new situation, I cried, I screamed, I pleaded, I begged, I tried sweet talking, giving up and imagining my freedom yet nothing worked. Eventually one day I accepted where I was even if I didn’t understand why, it didn’t make my symptoms any better but calmness prevailed and life in the slow lane began for the first time in my life.

I’ve learnt to love this gentle pace, even enjoying the juxtaposition of my place within society, watching my peers have families, get MA’s, PHD’s, their careers burgeoning, deeply ingrained in modern life juggling so many perilously balanced balls. I could quite easily fold into myself and become desperate by my lack of “life.” I’m so grateful that I rarely feel that way, I always enjoy seeing my friends’ happiness, it in turn makes me smile, and I'll take as many smiles as I can get. I travel in your timeframe through your stories. The time in which I traverse now goes at a slow beat in comparison, gentle but still rhythmic. All that I do is accompanied by a rhythm, always has been, but now I meander to a different tempo. It’s a gently lilting cadence and my steps are taken on the offbeat.

Monday 12 October 2009





There appears to be a lull in proceedings. 




Friday 2 October 2009

Composing the Past

It's been many years since I wrote in French but this morning I had an urge and here's what came forth. Thankfully my dear friend Flo helped iron out some errors. I've translated it below. 

"Cours mon petit cours,” elle a crié. 

“Le vent t’emmènera, en volant tout deviendra clair,

La hauteur te séparera de toi même. 

Comme ça plus rien ne pourra te nuire.

N’aie pas peur d’être en morceau, 

La légèreté te remettras en entier.

Reste entortillé dans les nuages, 

Si douces ses paroles, n’est-ce pas?

Ta terre nourricière attendra infiniment

Le jour où tu lui rendra sa bonté 

En s'effrondrant doucement dans ses bras.“


“Run my darling run,” she cried.

"The wind will carry you, all will come clear in flight,

The height will separate you from yourself.

Then no more shall you be hurt.

Don’t fret of being in pieces,

The lightness will make you whole, once more.

Stay enveloped in the clouds,

Such sweet nothings, no?

Your earth mother will forever wait

The day you return her kindness

By collapsing gently into her arms.”