The Strangest Things!

Having spent much of my adult life as self-employed, self reliant woman I find myself now in a curiously vulnerable state, dependent of on the love, patience and TLC of my family & friends.  But what I can offer them in return? Although I have been very fortunate in that I have suffered no long term physical disability resulting from the stroke I have been hampered by fatigue and lack of stamina in carrying on with any sustained activities that I previously took for granted.  A blessing- I hear my loved ones say!

Another strange consequence of the stroke is my lack of appetite- another blessing, as I needed to shed a few kgs according to my BMI index. But this has also affected my ability to cook and be cooked for as the smell of food just does not appeal to my senses and I find little joy in sitting down to eat.

For someone surrounded by lovers of gourmet Indian cuisine I now live by the motto- ' The Blander the Better'! Which is not a lot of fun for my family members. My children have often toiled over a hot stove to cook me a delicious meal only to be met by a state of indifference or feigned enthusiasm for the food.

There was a time when the smell of frying jeera & onions would get my mouth watering.  Now I feel nauseous and run the other way. So a lot of Indian cooking is out for me. Cooked one of my old favourites last night- baingan bharta ( roasted aubergine meze style, for the uninitiated).  It was a chore to cook and even more so to eat it!

My sense of hearing too appears to be more sensitive. I am awoken by the sound of chirping birds at 4am every morning- a beautiful sound, you may say but strangely to me it sounds loud and irritating!
Imagine my dismay when  in preparing for my MRI scan this week, I was warned by technician in the cheeriest of tones, that that machine can be a little loud sometimes!

It was a strange experience, my MRI. I lay perfectly still, in a meditative state being tested for periods of 3-4minutes by cacophonous compositions of clanging, clapping and whirring sounds which I can only liken to a ship's engine room and siren. How do I know? Hollywood movies of old!

I have never appreciated the sound of silence more that I do now.  But silence too can be a loud & lonely space if the mind is synaptically in rush-hour mode!  And so I have rediscovered my love for classical music, both eastern & western -  Music from the soul , for the Soul.

I share with you, some moments of precious Stillness.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYu5PWld89g
 

WHY BLOG ALL ABOUT IT?

When I suffered a stroke some 10 months ago, my world came to a grinding halt and I found it extremely difficult to accept the change in pace. I had become used thinking on my feet, problem solving on a daily basis in 7 different posts with 7 different work environments. The rush was what kept me going and I did not realise that this was taking a toll. But pay you must, for such neglect.  My Stroke resulted from a rampantly uncontrolled high blood pressure and could have brought my dreams, aspirations and life to a very sudden end but I was blessed, guarded perhaps, by angels because I got a second chance.

So , in celebration and perhaps atonement, I have found it productive to share my early morning reflections and conversations with myself in the form of a Blog. The purpose of this being, firstly, to harness my mind that continues to travel at jet -speed while I now, physically ride a bullock cart and secondly, a the hope that my experiences will in some way help others who may be going through the same.

Blogging all about it has , for me, served as a therapist's couch, allowing me to act as my own inquisitor, counsellor and sometimes even my own therapist.  You may decide for yourself by reading from Chapter 1 via the link below, penned during the first days following discharge from hospital. 

http://mieye2-reflections.blogspot.co.uk/

Reflections: POSTCARD#8 - Finding the Will to Write Again

Reflections: POSTCARD#8 - Finding the Will to Write Again:

It is a strange condition that I find myself in.  While searching for the will to live through writing this blog, I now find myself searching for the will to write!

It has been months since I shared my journey along the road to recovery, from a stroke some 20 months ago, with you.  I am told that I have made excellent progress physically and am currently at risk of becoming an exercise junkie with all the new classes that I have joined.

Indeed I have been very busy with Nordic walking, Aqua fit, Salsaball and Latin dance as well as more sedate activities such as art and lace-making.  These have each contributed to my physical and mental well-being but somehow I find myself questioning my need to fill every hour of the day with a structured distraction.

I fear this is a character trait that has been with me since my teenage years.  A means of escaping that which is uncontrollable to a safe and predictable environment which rewards me with unconditional rewards and undemanding relationships. I find myself being more critical and reflective of my life and feeling helpless to change that which needs to be changed.  Consequently, it is easier to escape!

But that which you wish to escape becomes a blur, a mere smudge in you memory and I see many such smudges in my archive of life. Hence my renewed and urgent desire to archive the balance of my days.  So now, I am writing a daily diary and collating the experiences into a postcard to my blog.

This reflection does no justice to the loving and caring people in my life.  They have worked ceaselessly to live up to my expectations and stood by me patiently while I indulged my whims. However, I find myself standing on the edge of a widening precipice between myself and reality and losing the will to jump to the other side.

Reality equals responsibility, commitment, charity, compromise.  Resources I am running short of at the moment.

So it is that my journey of recovery enters a new phase.  The phase of rehabilitation to prepare me to return to reality.  Watch this space for progress. 

Mieye2: One lifetime is not enough!

Mieye2: One lifetime is not enough!

Evolution of a Parent -
Introduction

Becoming a mother for the first time, was a JOY, although the experience was fraught with trials and tribulations.  So much to give. So much to share. So much to learn. So many nights without sleep. So many days full of playfulness and lots & lots of work.

When my second child was born, I became a referee  jumping around the ring to ensure fair play between my 'David & Goliath'. I had to be quick, I had to be nimble, I had to be fair, I had to be fearless. Most of all, I had to have eyes in the back of my head.

My Son had filled our lives with joyous play & laughter and My Daughter brought to our home the gentle fragrance of tenderness with a whisper of contentment.  These two precious gifts were to us the fulfilment of our bond of love & friendship.

I remember each moment of their early childhood that was snapped or recorded but try as I might, I cannot see the details.   Like a roller-coaster ride with its highs and lows, the scenery is blurred but annotated with snapshots of expressions& moments when we pass the camera!

Plan, prepare, read, consult as much as one might, the experience takes over and leaves one reeling when, one day, a 24 year old giant looks down at you with his eyes full of savvy with a hint of mischief and the 22 year old offers you wisdom & wit beyond her years.

Pride with a 'ping' fills my heart when I realise that I am no longer the provider, the protector, the source of all wisdom for them, who may now prepare to start the journey towards parenthood themselves.

So many questions fill my mind.
Did I do right?
Did I do enough?
Was I a good example to them?
Could I have done so much more?
&
Who will look after them when....... I am not allowed to say this?

A good answer for me would be, 'I don't know BUT I did my very best.
Because the best is what I owe them for giving me the honour of being.. 
a Parent.  
I am being encouraged by these very children now to share my thoughts with you through a Blog.  So here it is:
Reflections: - not weighed, not measured ....Simply......dilse ( from the heart)