Flurries

This was on Monday, sitting in the train, feeling a little tired — before the delays started.  This morning I looked outside and saw flurries!  Not many, and not long, but just enough for me to tuck my toes under the blanket a little harder.  Jerry must have seen them too, because he tried burrowing under me!  He’s really been persistent in sticking close to me since I got home; he moves from lying on my tummy to lying on my lap when I sit, and he arranges himself no matter what I’m doing.  I’ve pushed him off, and he just bounces back up.  Silly dog!  Don has been enjoying having me at home, and we’re catching up on several of our recorded shows.  He was good, and didn’t watch too many without me — although today I came out to find that he was halfway through one that we normally watch together.  So, of course, he had to restart it.  Because that’s what happens when you don’t wait to watch a together show at the same time!  Now, though, there’s hockey, so I’m being officially neglected. 😜

I had a conversation today with my social worker in which we were discussing coping strategies.  I like chatting with her, because she introduces some interesting new thoughts and we explore some things that I’d otherwise ignore.  In the time that we’ve been working together, I learnt that she’s an artist (sketch, pastels, portrait; then ceramics) and today she shared that she used to do caricatures once upon a time.  I am one of those philistines who “knows nothing about art, but know what I like” and I admire those who create artwork.  Anyway, in our conversation, she was talking about how we as individuals find ways to nourish our minds, and sometimes it’s in unconventional ways.  Like watching a favourite show, or (in my case) crocheting, or sculpting (her) and so on.  I had the sudden revelation that I do meditate and “centre myself” but not by doing any specific exercises.  Part of my meditation is crochet, as I find the rhythm to be relaxing, and I am just present, watching the fabric form under my hands.  I do also pray, but my prayers tend to be fairly private,  and I’m not one who goes in for flashy displays.  It’s just something that I do that helps me to feel more at peace.  

When I think about it, even in my strongest churchgoing years, I was never comfortable with showy public prayers.  I’d led prayer events, and led teens in drama, and so on, but my prayers tended to be brief, leading a couple of my compeers to accuse me of not having appropriate religious feeling.  I don’t think that judging the length of my prayers can determine my sincerity, nor is it determined by whether or not my eyes are closed.  For me, prayer requires finding a quiet place and time in which I can address the Almighty to give thanks for another day, or to be angry that my body is unreliable or anything else.  I’ve tried to follow guided meditations, but my attention wanders off and I lose interest quickly.  It’s a pity, really, some of them seem to be good — I wouldn’t know because I just tune out.  My chat with the social worker helped me realize this, and better, to accept that I can do things differently from what’s expected and yet achieve what I need.  

We talked for quite a long while, mostly about shows and books that we enjoyed, and how much they can contribute to our peace of mind.  In fact, while we were chatting, I remembered a book that I’d bought about a year ago and had in my “to read” pile, and I went to pull it out and move it up the list!  I have the habit of adding books to that list, and sometimes I’ll revisit old favourites so unless I move a book to within line of sight, there’s a risk that it will take root on my shelves and not be read for a very long time!  I’ve just finished a re-read of one that I really enjoy, so it’s a good time to begin a new book.  I’ve promised to write my thoughts, so stand by for those over the next couple of weeks.

The tiny dictator is in hyper mode and wants to play, so I’ll have to leave you.  Good night!