Sylvia's Journal

Yesterday started out so full of promise. For once the journal writing was a joint activity, me writing, Axel talking. I was full of plans and optimistic that I’d get them done. But life had something else in mind and it appeared I needed a lesson. The flat rubbery corn pancakes I made for breakfast should have been a sign that things were not going to be easy and from there things went downhill.

I tried to tackle a job I had postponed for some time, the re-strapping of Penny’s old lawn chairs. I should have followed my own advice about not taking on something new during this Mercury-in-retrograde period but I thought the re-strapping of old chairs would be OK. It wasn’t. Not only that, it was hugely difficult, physically strenuous and more or less impossible. Several hours later, with one chair only half done I gave up, exhausted. There are things that I am not physically able to do but it took me a long time to accept defeat.

This experience of not being able to complete something affected me deeply. Axel sat me down for awhile on the bench by the cove. He had hoped that sitting in the afternoon sun would cheer me up. It hardly did. I went inside, exhausted and settled on the couch with a book on my lap. Instead of reading I worked myself up (or down rather) thinking of the things I failed to accomplish.

Axel promised to make dinner, Sita and Jim had gone to their old stomping ground for the weekend and I calmed down and read and napped for awhile until it got dark.

Not one to take advice easily, I started to tackle another (old) project. I tried to finish a baby sweater I had been working on for awhile. But no matter how much I tried and re-worked the piece I could not get it right. I finally gave up, in a fit unraveled the whole darn piece and cried a long overdue cry. It was a cry of defeat, frustration and mismatched expectations. But it also was a cry of sadness and loss; about the things that had gotten overshadowed by all the good news and the encouragement about our progress. I either have a deep reservoir for tears that takes a long time to overflow, or a shallow reservoir with a very slow production of tears. Either way, last night the floodgates opened and the reservoir overflowed; enough with being strong, able, competent, optimistic and fit for the world.

Maybe this had something to do with my body coming out of its shocked state. I know this because old ailments and physical conditions have returned after an absence of three months. There must be some trigger, hormonal or other, that is signaling my body to go back to its old preoccupations. Menopausal symptoms, suspended as a result of the crash, are back, hot flashes and all. So is the tingling in my hands indicating that my right hand carpal tunnel is still pressing on the nerve. I had scheduled an operation for this on the 25th of July which was canceled for obvious reasons. However, the 15th of July the symptoms disappeared. They have just come back.

It is too easy to slide back into my old ways of trying to be superwoman. I am not as agile and not as strong as I used to be and I am rather stubborn in (not) acknowledging that. I suppose yesterday was a shot across the bow. So I am resisting making any plans today and just let the day take me where I need to go. Quaker meeting first. It’s Sunday, after all. A day of rest. Try me!