Scattered seeds
In another life I would have been happy to hear of neighbouring farms, the changes in the village, the plight of weather, the sale of wheat, the new cattle coming in, but this is not this life. The dry soil of dirt and blown seed is not mine. The vivid brown of ploughed fields in the rain is not mine. They belong to a past that was not handed to me, a past I learned to reject too early and can never regain. And yet, it is a past I still yearn for.
Returning to books
Invigorated by this feeling, I turned to a collection of Japanese short stories borrowed from my brother in 2019 (Tokyo Electrique edited and translated by Corinne Quentin). It rekindled a love of reading in translation and a fascination with Japan. I took to Twitter to ask for Japanese authors recommendations. Titles flooded my notifications and my reserve limit at the library was quickly met. Books trickled in, my job changed, and I found myself with less time in the morning and evening to read. The trade off was an hour long lunch during which I could switch off from spreadsheets, and the unstoppable flow of data. A time of my own to claim and use as I wished. I chose to read. I opened paper books and lost myself.
Scenes of Life – How do I heal?
It is June now and I am sitting on an unfamiliar sofa in a rented space for a week’s holiday. My mind stopped its incessant racing, words bubbled inside of me, and here I am typing on a keyboard. I feel grounded as I hear the calls of bird I cannot see, the intermittent pattering of rain on the window, and the gentle music humming from the speakers. I am still, counted time left behind.
Protected: Scenes of Life – Week 015 to 021
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Scenes of Life – Week 014
‘I am tired,’ I mumble to myself. I remember the offer of the doctor in week 11 to sign me off work for however long I thought I would need. It is so tempting to call them and ask to be signed off but it is only a week until the Christmas break, just one week to live through before time is my own, before I can retreat within myself and be free to begin to process the enormity of what I have come to realise about myself and start to live anew.
Scenes of Life – Week 013
In the evening, my partner picks me up from work. I rest my head against the car window and breathe. My world is changing again, my body and mind reeling against the change in spite of wanting this return of the public at work. I feel like a boat rocking on an ever shifting sea, my being carried along without any control.
Secnes of Life – Week 012
Two mugs of tea brewed, I head back to the bedroom and open the curtains. In the distance, the world is tinted pink from an invisible sun, too low on the horizon to be seen. I sit on the windowsill watching the colours shift as the sun rises higher, swirling the mist into candy floss.
Scenes of Life – Week 010
I leave the clinic and head home. I resist the urge to pull my headphones out of my coat pocket. Instead, I look at my surroundings, the sky dark above me, street lights illuminating my path.
Scenes of Life – Week 009
The mantra to live day to day anchored itself in my brain, refusing to entertain the thought of being made furloughed again, of Trump winning the presidency in the USA, of the utter certainty of not seeing my family for Christmas. But all those thoughts lingered in the background, sending me crashing down on Tuesday. My anxiety took hold of me, my body rattled by fear, my brain trapped by an overwhelming onslaught of emotions.
Scenes of Life – Week 008
Tears well up in my eyes. I am unsure if it is the tension being released, the sadness of another lockdown, how much I am dreading being made furloughed, the sudden certainty that I will not be able to visit my family in France for another few months, the paralysing fear of my own vulnerability. Or all of it at once.
Scenes of Life – Week 007
The cycle path runs out and I am cycling on a four lane A-road without the makeshift protection of white lines on the road. I feel like I am trespassing a space I have no right to be in. On all sides, cars and lorries hurtle past, mildly annoyed when my presence slows them down. Ahead, I can see the cycle path reappear on the pavement but it is not obvious how I can get to it. Traffic is too fast for me to stop and climb on the pavement. I hope there is a recess or I will be stuck on the ring road for far too long.
Scenes of Life – Week 006
I wonder what could have made her so emotional, memories of childhood, teases and failures echoing in her mind? She had been so eager and joyful when she had arrived. But I know, this means very little. I had been happy the day before when my anxiety had bubbled inside of me.
Scenes of Life – Week 005
A waft of rubber and bicycle grease hits me as I step into the container. I am nearly thrown back from the smell, at once familiar and foreign. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Am I really going to be working here?
Scenes of life – Week 004
We stand awkwardly for a moment, unable to go past our instinct to shake hands until M. makes a joke about it.
Scenes of life – Week 003
My breath catches in my throat, trapped within my lungs. I look back at the fox, their ginger fur set alight. We stare at one another us, neither of us moving. In the quiet of the morning, neither of us expected the other’s presence. Footsteps muffled by the mist, echoes trapped in the air, we have both believed this place to be ours and ours alone.
Scenes of life – Week 002
A car caught the sinking sunlight, the reflected glint blinding me. White spots flickered behind my closed eyelids. When I opened them again, their was one more balloon over the shopping centre, its figure small and distant.
Scenes of life – Week 001
Back upstairs, I automatically spray my hands with sanitiser. I watch the motions of my fingers woven together, sliding along my palms and over my wrists. I am unable to understand how I feel. C.’s words finally reach my brain. So, we have come to the conclusion that we need to have a redundancy of one.
#LockdownDiary – One of many – The Last Entry
I was paralysed, crippled by doubts and fears, unable to read, to write or focus on anything that was not a manual task. I remained afloat, my legs kicking frantically under water, my body unnaturally still above the water line until I gave in.
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 108
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 108 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanc ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 105
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 105 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanc ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 100
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 100 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanc ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 94
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 94 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanci ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 86
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 86 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanci ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 85
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 85 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distancing and isolation feels rea ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 107
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 107 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanc ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 103
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 103 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanc ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 93
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 93 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distanci ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 87
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 87 The idea of a collection of daily words describing how you felt for 30 days of social distancing and isolation feels rea ...
#LockdownDiary – One of many – Day 80
Adrift for a week, I am slowly emerging back into my routine, reminding myself to work on my projects instead of wasting too much time killing time, avoiding work, avoiding too much scrutiny into myself. This scrutiny though is different than the one from the early days of lockdown. Back then, my entire being was raw. Everything was different, scary, and unknown. It was easy to keep track of my emotions and actions because they were loud. Three months later, they are not.