Déjà Vu

Yesterday it snowed.  This is not always a given of our winter and the quantity that fell out of the sky was rarer still.  Crystal layered upon crystal it was the kind that creaked as you walked upon it, and is, without a question of a doubt, one of my favourite sounds, yet even then I both love and hate the snow.

There is no denying that I've found this week difficult.  The rain, the mud, the news from the outside world...  it has all been a bit grim and engulfed me in feelings of overwhelm and futility.  I have at times been as flaky as the snow but with far less structure or beauty, my walk this morning unfolding like a metaphor for my life.

I can't quite shift the feeling that I'm trudging through snow, every step more laboured and taking more effort than it normally would just to cover the same distance, and that when I finally hit a patch where the path has been cleared walking suddenly feels too easy and I am fearful of slipping on ice and the inevitable crashing down on my arse that would ensue.

I'm struggling with lockdown, and struggling with the fact that I'm struggling, when really I've got nothing to struggle about.  I either need to clear my head or find something more worthwhile to fill it with, or both.

Cue Mother Nature to lend a helping hand....

Never have I walked in a more dreamlike landscape that I did this morning.  Everything, including the air in front of me, was white.  Trees and telegraph lines disappearing into nothingness, an abyss, the great unknown. I was walking in a suspended reality where everything that was usually there, wasn't there, except that it was still there I just couldn't see it. "Tune Out" it seemed to be saying, "There is nothing to focus on except those couple of lone red berries hiding in the hedgerow", "Tune In".

For as long as I can remember, I cannot recall weather quite like I experienced this morning, and for as long as I live I may never get to see it quite like that again, but perhaps I can carry it with me like a reverse 'invisibility cloak' where instead of it being me that goes unseen I can use it to mask the world temporarily from my vision, and more importantly my mind.

And if all of this is sounding a little bit like you've heard it before, you have.  I think I've just re-written what I wrote last week.  But if I'm in need of saying it again, then perhaps there is someone reading who benefitted from having it repeated - I hope so.  

And if we're revisiting last week, then really I ought to give some sort of progress report on what I've actually achieved.  My 2020 diary is no more, it has gone from my workspace and been consigned to the rubbish bin where it definitely deserves to be.  I am fully here in 2021, printing and applying ink to fabric which is permanent and washable (smiley face emoji). Small pleasures or little acorns?! Only time will tell....