Daily footsteps on water (or I ticked my bullet journal today)

I have a pile of New Yorkers

haphazardly splayed on the table

that I have yet to clean

still in their plastic covers.

Some are from last December

It's already this October

and they broadcast a failure

to keep up.

I read what I can

an article a day, maybe two

no small feat when they can run

to 30 closely-written pages.

I have not renewed my subscription

It is too much, too much!

and I have other things to tick off

in my trusty bullet journal

which I cling to

in spite of everything

to let me know that 

I have not allowed the days to pass

like footsteps on water.

Did I read a chapter of the book-du-jour?

Hadot's Spiritual Exercises,

or that biography of Van Gogh 

written in the 1950s?

Have I meditated? 

Learnt a few French words and phrases

on Duolingo?

Listened to Deacon Keith Fournier

recite the Bible readings for the day?

With his distinctive panache

on Catholic Online?

Have I cleaned the kitty litter?

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The one thing 

I don't record

is the hours spent

in front of Netflix 

as my mind atrophies

and I become drooling

and sub-verbal.

(and suddenly it's four in the morning

and I'm working tomorrow!)

Pick myself up

Dust myself up

get back to that list.

start again.

I refuse to be

just another

pandemic casualty.

It's time for Calm 

and Tamara  Levitt's

short meditation of the day.

10 minutes.

I can do 10 minutes

What's so hard about 10 minutes?

Maybe it will rein in

this slow disintegration

and reverse my attrition.

Later for you.

Worthy of Love

Even as you lay 

on the ground

soaked in vodka

or whisky

or wine

or brandy

or whatever

ethanol you had

just picked up

from the shop 

opposite.

Even as you lay 

passed out

in the front of that 

tiny hotel

tiny but decent

except for the drunk 

at its doorstep

Even then you 

felt worthy of love

a person

and not a creature

to be pitied 

or shunned.

You cried out

upon waking

demanding a hearer

demanding affection

demanding all that 

had been promised

You never felt unworthy

even as you lay on the ground, twitching

wretched

but unashamed.

And eventually

you found someone

who was sweet and forgiving

who married you

and lived with you

for a few years

and who eventually

sent you home

in an urn.

But you remained married

until you died

which is what you intended

and all you ever wanted.

And when I looked on you

with such disgust

and contempt

I didn't know 

that you, even you,

in all your brokenness

lying in your own puddle 

of urine and vomit

had something teach me.

I, who have never felt worthy,

no matter what I did,

no matter how I tried,

no matter what I achieved,

of love. 

Goodbye

 I leave you behind

our path diverge

And when 

the white noise

dies down

I'm sure there will be sorrow.

For now, there is only

an awareness, an understanding

that you are a part 

of the past

that is being erased

as I sit here

as I type these words

as we speak

or rather

as we don't speak.

The thundering silence 

between us

has crystallised 

into marble.

Cold, pure, white

Unfeeling.

Unyielding.

Goodbye now.

Please forget me.

I don't think we will meet again.

Estrangement

One day I woke up

and you were no longer

an enemy

just a stranger

I had no feeling for

Irrelevant

in my life.

I smiled

and shrugged

trying to rouse

feelings

at least anger

I could always do anger.

But there's nothing there

not even a flicker

and now I know what it means

when they say

you are dead to me.

Because, you truly are.

Buried, encoffined, cremated, ashes,

Dust.

And as as it is

a time of turmoil

and as I don't agree

with the people 

around me...

I will have to withdraw

build walls

between me

and the people

dear to me

become a hermit

more so than I 

already am.

But not with you

I won't have to

For you are nothing

but a dim memory

someone I used to know?

Maybe

I don't remember.

There's nothing deader

than a memory

of someone who used to be

dear.

Fruitcake

 I am pre-soaking fruits and nuts to make another fruitcake. I know it's not quite Christmas, but crazy stuff is happening and all bets are off right now. So if I'm going to make fruitcake this year, I figure I had better make it now. That way, I can deliver it to my greatest fruitcake fans, well, with Grab's delivery service. 

I think we all need some magic in our drab drab lives that is absent of wonder.

Right now, the news is so dark that most people shake their heads...it can't be happening, it can't be happening, this must be a nightmare, we should wake up, any day soon, any day now...well, it's been more than a year.

So you do what you do. And I'll just go out shopping to buy some pitted prunes so I can make my third batch.

Deliveries to start any time soon.

Not quite quite

 After two hours in an unmoving jam to make a trip that should have taken 15 minutes, I feel like a mass of raw nerve endings. Tired, irritable, I swerved left and right in anger, sped up when idiots wanted to cut in, honked as loudly as I could for the idiot in front of the traffic light who remained unmoving when it was green because the people in the opposite direction were blocking his way (illegally) and he was too polite to cut in.

In the meantime, Jinny, who was in the back seat, whom I had just taken back from the vet against medical orders because the MCO is about the start tomorrow, who requires injections and a change of dressings on a belly wound that just won't heal, in the meantime Jinny started wailing. And I didn't know if she was hurt or she needed to pee, or if she was just scared. 

I got scared and drove as fast as I could. Cussed out anyone who slowed me down. Cussed and cussed and cussed.

And got home feeling shaky and shivery and not quite quite.

Naturally Boom Boom didn't welcome my youngest with her soft sunflower cone (she has slunk into the cupboard and is asleep among my clothes).

And I get back to find that I have missed Dadda's medical appointment because I was stuck in traffic and there is no way in hell I am going out there again in this crazy rain-maddened Wednesday (I hate Wednesdays, I have hated it since I was a kid and Wednesdays were double Geography, my most hated subject of all). It is the fasting month which means that half the traffic should not have been on the road because they should have been somewhere breaking their fast but the MCO starts tomorrow and everyone needed to get in some last minute shopping, not knowing how bad it was going to be.

There are some 3,744 new infections today and 17 deaths (there were 23 yesterday). The apartment has put up a sign saying there has been a fourth Covid case in the apartment complex and my MySejahtera app tells me that there are 43 cases within 1km of me (I am in a red zone!).

(Boom Boom is outside my door crying piteously, imploring me to let her in; I won't. She is hostile to Jinny now and I need to protect Jinny).

Now I have that slight headache that comes from tension, my body is cold from being in the car in a storm with the air con on full blast (until I smartened up and turned up the temperature) and someone is splitting straws about a standfirst, changing one word, then another, until I want to scream!

I need to heat up some food from Rumahku that we had this afternoon. Dadda and I just had tea and goring pisang but because it took too long to get home, the goring pisang was soggy with old oil and after one tentative bite, Dadda didn't want any more. So I'm full of goring pisang and tired and what I really want to do right now is take a nap.

I want to calm down and for my nerves to stop jangling like a million crickets scratching out their noctural symphony. Creeak Craak Creeak Craak.

Poetry gets made on the fly.

Leave it smiling

There are times when you meet someone and you look into their tired eyes and notice their brittle, fragile throat and realise...they are dying. They don't know it yet, but maybe, on one level, they do. And so they have stopped clinging to life. 

They open their hands gracefully and give it up. Because the last person who loves them is leaving.

And when nobody remains who loves, who really loves you, what else is there?

I never understood you before. I never understood this before, until my own mother died.

And after navigating the thorny briars of grief and standing still for a long time, I started moving out of it. But life had lost some of its savour that would never be regained.

We could work very hard and ensure that the facade was OK. The externals were taken care of.

But something, something essential was lost.

Maybe it had always been lost, maybe I lost it, we lost it, along the way and didn't notice because there were people there holding us up, so we didn't see.

And now I watch you, quietly receding.

If you've decided to go, I will support you.

But before that, let's celebrate, let's have some fun.

If you're going to leave this life, leave it smiling.

Thank God for deadlines

I realise that I'm sort of a watery person. If I don't have a container to hold me, I spill out all over the place with no definite form or shape. Which is why I need deadlines. I need a structure. Work gives me that. It forces me to plan ahead, figure out what is going to fill the pages. 

And now that my section has been turned into a weekly, this is even more important.

I am reading a biography of Leonardo da Vinci and I see that he was curious about everything but not very good at finishing what he started. He wanted to work on things for years, perfecting a bit here, a bit there.

But what he actually did finish were masterpieces.

I am by no means a genius. 

And I hate how scattered my thoughts are and how I am all over the place and how I do not follow through on intentions.

So now, since I have only walked 664 steps and it is already 12.19, I will finish this here and go for a walk.

Later for you.

Passing thoughts on a sultry Monday afternoon

Another sleepless night and I am trying to break the cycle of sleeping during the languid afternoon. But then, what else is there?

Work, no doubt you will say. 

Well I'm on top of that. I'm back in the swing of things. 

Everything that needs to be cleared, has been given to be cleared. 

Now just waiting for the final round of edits.

It's 13.12 and I have walked 5,589 steps so far today. 

For now, I'll fight the urge to nap, have a healthy meal, walk some more, edit some more, transcribe some more...and then, who knows?

A setback

Yesterday was a busy day, for all that it was a holiday. I met with friends for a lunch which lingered and meandered for hours. Then I met with a contact for tea (he was giving me bits of a story). Then I met another friend for dinner and this too, since we had not met each other for two years, lingered and meandered. By the time I got home, I was way behind on the steps, only managing to come in at the midnight mark which just enough to continue my streak but nothing above.

Nothing loth, I continued to watch the episode of 100 days my prince and walk, giving me about nearly 2,000 steps before I went to bed. But again, it was a tossing, turning night and in the morning, I simply refused to stir until noon. Luckily Rose came so she fed the cats. Then she dragged me out to buy cat food (wet food and biscuits), poopy sand, toothpaste and I added some facial cotton because I use these to clean Boom Boom's ringworm-affected area (although Rose did that today and gave her her meds, for which I was profoundly grateful, Boom Boom not being quite as docile when I'm trying to stuff pills down her throat or spray the affected area with a cleaning agent which I have to keep on for 10 minutes, before rubbing it off with aforementioned facial cotton) and using a cotton bud to dab on the medicated cream. 

Anyway my weight crept up today. I walked up and surveyed the scale feeling tired and blue but realised that I can't let this faze me.

Which is why I am writing this post. 

To remind myself to keep on keeping on.

Later for you.

Resolutions

Chubs and I are leaning against the sofa watching Mr Christmas decorate houses (and one fire station) for Christmas and there is ice cream going round but his wife looks at him sternly because the doctor has had a thing or two to say about his weight.

I ask him how heavy he is and he tells me. I am staggered. I stepped on the scale this morning and this is exactly my weight. Before this, I knew I was ballooning up like a proverbial Michelin Woman, but by not looking at the wefies my friends take of us (well, not closely anyway) I have been able to ignore the problem. But I have always been lighter than Chubs. 

Now we're the same weight? Which means I am fatter because his bones are heavier. Arrrggghhh!

When I had the hysterectomy, everyone and their doctors told me one side effect would be weight gain. But I'd already gained so much weight, what was a few pounds more? Well, it wasn't a few. Since the op, it was more like 15 hefty kilos in two years. That's a whopping 33 pounds.

And so I have finally decided that this laziness is not going to cut it. I can't squeeze into my huge clothes, everything sticks at the belly and I just don't feel comfortable in my skin. I've not been comfortable for a long time, but as I said, I'm good at avoiding stuff, especially if there is something (like work) to take up all my energy and attention.

But a three-week break has given me time and space to look at things. Like my really messed up life. My cats who refuse to eat their wet food (is something wrong with the food?) and who now have fungal infections - I have to wrestle with Boom Boom every day to clean out the affected area and apply her cream and feed her, her antibiotics. Rose does it in a jiffy but it became too expensive getting Rose to come over every day for this.

Anyway, we're nearly done with the antibiotics. And her fur has started to grow in the affected area. Smeagol who had an even worse infection has had three jabs to kill the parasites.

There are certain things that I need to do. Sleep properly. Meditate. Read my New Yorkers which appear in my postbox way too often (I know, I took up a subscription but I haven't time to read all the stories). Well, until now. I forced myself to read the Dec 7 issue cover to cover and I've just finished.

Do the 10,000 (which I have grossly neglected for lounging on the sofa to watch Crash Landing on You yet again). I can still watch Crash Landing - it's just that I will have to watch it on my phone as I do the steps.

So I've set goals for myself this year. I know exactly how much weight I want to lose.

I know exactly how much money I want to save.

I haven't really made any other goals yet, And the week ahead is turning out to be super filled with activities (they all got bunched up to after Christmas).

My friends and I wanted to meet for lunch tomorrow. But now we find that most places have Covid cases. I just checked - where I live, there has been one case in a 1km radius from me in the past 14 days. I think the cases are rising so quickly that people have become inured to it. They just shrug, like, whatever and want to meet anyway.

The new normal?