Last week was not a good week - I spent most of it feeling like I'd rather be someone else... things began stacking up - the dishes - unread papers - work - e-mails - washing - the list of people to phone. My mind and thoughts grew heavy despite my trying not to get fixated.
People were kind and many asked me "How do you feel generally?" or "How are you doing?" But I didn't know what to say. "Not great?, but maybe this is normal under the circumstances." Pathetic? Who knows.... maybe, but how are we meant to feel? So much of life we have to improvise as we go along. There's no instruction manual. I keep asking, what's normal? Is this normal now? Sometimes in my head I feel so 'mortal' - that all the bits could go flying off - atomised. The difference between feeling alive and not, can seem so slight its hard to define.
But, in all that, there is a tiny 'me-ness' which does holds it together - and this rickety 'self' behind all the masks which I wear, is somehow untamed - comes away with some really wild stuff. So much so sometimes I find myself very much aware of the effect on others. And amongst it all is one who can listen and offer me what i need without perhaps ever knowing how valuable the gift they give is to me. I thank them.... for they are more special than they could know.
I have seen behind your mask
but don't be afraid.
Every one is ashamed
as long as he doesn't know himself.
You think your mask is beautiful
but it has been shaped by cruel hands
that once wounded your heart.
I have seen behind your mask
and I have seen human beauty.
I was thinking that if we're game, growing older offers release from what we have been - the freedom to wander.(at least in our minds). Pablo Neruda ends his poem 'Truth' on this theme: "And to truth I say: don't stay so long that you harden until you are a lie. I'm no director, I'm not in charge of anything or any great importance, and for that reason I treasure the errors of my song."
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