I’ve had my oldest friend Catherine and her darling son Angus staying with me this last week. I’ve loved it, no; I needed it, so much more than I really understood. It was a week of revisiting the bond that two young girls made back in boarding school together, now coming back together again as woman, all right at the most perfect time.
Her son Gus, 6 months old, of course fell in love with me. Well, I fell madly in love with him. His smile made me light up so bright inside, and when he cried and I went to him and he suddenly stopped and the corners of his mouth curled so widely, grabbing his dimples on the way to his ears, I felt so much love and warm. You’d say we were all a bit giddy, so many giggles, cuddles, love and warm and fuzziness – Catherine stopped at one point, and with almost a look of just for a moment of heart break said,
“Why can’t we remember how much we were loved when we were this age?”
I haven’t been writing much lately, I’ve been stopping and starting a lot, some might say it’s writers block, but I know it’s because I’ve been feeling really blocked about some other “hard emotional” stuff that came up recently with Judith, that like I’ve mentioned before, rocked me somewhat. But because I decided I didn’t want to live it every day, I blocked it out. Shut it all down, and in the process, shut a large part of me down too. It’s amazing how long you can run a car, the gauge on the empty for a while; and I’ve always been the type to see how far this baby will go with out filling up, or a service.
My vehicle, my body, always let’s me know when the empty light is flashing hard. I’ve got so good at keeping it going on the empty warning, just for a wee bit longer, or just enough so I can take a new route or go somewhere completely different, because maybe, just maybe I’ll find some new wave fuel (encounter) that will fill me up! And, then generally I do - just fill up, in the nick of time.
I took a big turn and got involved in something really new and exciting and yes, this path kept my little motor purring for a while. Lots of fuel for Flowers here! I didn’t have to think about any emotional stress, what, what was the “hard stuff”, I can’t remember, I don’t want to, all I want to see signs for on this path is, “I want, I want, I want, I want….”. Never ever any signs to direct me to “get real Gloversville” or “Stop and smell the roses, Flowers”, or here’s one that I speed past a lot “Hey, I’m not so shiny today”.
No, you see for on this path, a strong man is giving me wonderful new directions, and marvellous distractions on what I could be doing, and the type of driver I could be; consuming my thoughts night and day, in every way. But, even I know I now need to see a sign that reads, “Whooah there Silver!”.
When you have a car accident, you can always get a paint job, knock out the dints and be all brand new again. Or in my case, have plastic surgery a nose job and be stitched back up again, and her presto all brand new. But the other side of all of this, just like the chassis of a car, the body also remember trauma and leaves internal scars. A real logbook of a car will tell you just how many times the body has been hit and repaired from damage, yet our bodies don’t show that to the outside world. But internally, there is log; many of us, just aren’t conscious of it. But let me assure you, the body does remember, and eventually it will show you.
The car choked last week, in the brink of my fabulous driving, blonde hair flowing in the wind, I discovered a lump under my arm. A rather large lump, painful and actually quiet scary. Catherine had arrived just this day, so it was almost like it was ok for the car to stall, because she’d know how to pick me up and make sure I got home.
My darling mechanic, Doctor Shiv, tells me it’s not life threatening, but is due to emotional stress, causing the glands to react, it’s called “lymphatitis”. No new fuel would fix this one, (even though I did try a fair amount called “Chardonnay” with Catherine) it was warning to reduce the stress in my life otherwise the car would be having scans on my head lights for the rest of my life. I just can be dealing with life without lights - the path needs to be bright and girls must lead the way!
Catherine left on Thursday and today I’ve found another infection reaching up in my neck and ears. The funniest thing is, I left work today jesting that it was nothing that some good old drugs (and what would also be a jab in my back tyre later) couldn’t fix. Ok, stop jesting, and take me past the road sign of “Get real Glover” again please.
All of our senses are integral to how the our world is perceived. The brain processes perceptions and stores them as thoughts, emotions, images, sensations and behavioural impulses. The most toxic of these is anger. It can lay dormant, but it can be the harshest of all impulses we have when it eventually cracks a leak. Actually the process of the brain memory is similar to a computer chip in a Tom Tom navigation System, punching in routes to travel, which call all be temporary, which is akin to memory storage, unless it’s saved, and that information lies dormant until retrieved by reopening that route address. But like my attempt to drive in Singapore today, even with the right address it’s hard to locate sometimes. That is, unless there is a trigger, or you hit the same bump again and again until you can’t do anything but acknowledge that place you’ve arrived at. I think this is where I got stuck.
I’ve learnt, I can drink many a martini, I can eat gourmet meals, I can take up smoking Vogues again, and I can get involved in titillating, electrifying and inexplicable relationships and call it all a distracting drive in my car, but the signs just get bigger – “Whooah there Silver”.
Maybe I will start looking out for the signs “tip toe through the tulips” for a change. Yeah, I think I want to get out and walk for a while. How boring, or actually not, the trips in the car are becoming a bit tired to be honest, it’s all fantasy stuff and not too much reality going on. Good God Maria, how old am I?
That week with Catherine reminded me to remember. As once we were girls, we were now woman who have loved each other like sisters, and whom speak honestly and freely and it be very safe. For years, we’ve been two inherently different woman, ironically, both wishing we had a little bit more of what the other person possessed. We covered a lot of ground, many topics, laughter and tears, all perfectly scripted to leave me with some sensible perspective on life. It’s amazing what can come out of dialogue from the eyes of a woman that made choices and the other from the woman who’s eyes had too many choices.
...and if little Gusy grows up and forgets his first big trip overseas, he will never forget the stories we share and warm and fuzziness lived on the trips we take in my car, no doubt there.
So, the other side of this is I’ve found a nice place to rest my car for a while. The grass between my toes will feel lush, just for a while, as and we all know I’ll never give up my wheels! Beyond getting through the hard stuff, there is way too much good stuff out there that I am still yet to touch and feel, top down and hair blowing in the wind. Maybe, if I remove some of the road blocks, the next path I journey along will cater for a whole new set of adventures…...and one thing is for certain, you know I’ll write about it!
Do you know what, I saw a big red road-block on the other side of the road at the end of my street with initials “TBS” painted on them like graffiti! It made me chuckle, I love signs!
Fleur
TBS
p.s - and there will always be light along the way! ;-)
