Friday, 27 August 2010

Running on empty...

I am empty

At first I couldn't sleep, then l couldn't read, now I fear I cannot write. I have ideas for new posts everyday, but I cannot seem to string the words together in an appropriate fashion. I ask myself if this is another phase on my road of 'recovery'. I don't know and to be honest I am just going along with this and I have given up looking for answers. It is exhausting, all these questions, most of which I know I will never find their truths.

So, as I have been reading over previous posts. Some are quite interesting and telling and perhaps prophetic in their honesty. In their innocence in terms of how, when and why I wrote them, back then. Rather than leave this blog alone as a wasteland , I have scheduled a few posts which now speak to me on a new level, with a deeper relevance and resonance than when they were first written.

I hope those of you who are more recent visitors here enjoy them, and for those of you who dread  'repeats', l ask that you bear with me...

...as the man says, back soon with better stuff!


Healing Powers
originally posted 11 November 2009



I have been pondering over our personal healing powers.

The inner strength, we all have. We find it deep, deep within us. Often at times, when we would least expect to dredge up another vat of determination and energy.

Other times it is within the things we cling to when we are in need of succour and comfort. The things we collect or unwittingly keep beside us. Around us. We feel secure within the blanket of our own surroundings. A haven.

This shoring up of personal warmth, that keeps the fear at bay and our sanity in a suitcase by the door.

The shopping bags of cheap tricks, to sustain and fill us when relationships sour or times are hard.

Our personal favourites. Our hot water bottles of love.

Casseroles, chunky soup and bread, chocolate.

Smells pungent of memories.

A tray set with a pot of tea and antique cups and plates. To warm.

Crackling fires, a seat by the hearth,
gazing into the flames of a sunset, that lasts as long as it is fed.

To me, healing powers are in meals, prepared with love by family

food which is a constant friend. Or foe.

The clutter that chokes our homes, spills from the drawers, vomits from the shelves

but which serves to warm our hearts, effuse our minds, confuse our hearts,

we choose the wallpaper of books and other detritus, which fixes us
to the floorboards of our daily lives.

The books read and kept, are friends that we cannot bear to part with,

they are like the memories that hold stories of love, strength, misery, fear and hope...

and so we hold onto the physical, as well as the emotional warmth.





14 comments:

  1. Sending you healing thoughts. I shall enjoy reading your old posts till you feel like writing again. :)

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  2. I usually hate clutter, but a lot of my drawers (bedside table, dresser, kitchen) are full of things that evoke memories. When I discover them again, they take me back to that particular moment. Wrap yourself in the good and discard the not good and eventually the new words will come anew. Sending hugs and looking forward to reading and/or re-reading your posts. :)

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  3. Whatever you do, new or old, is fine. I shall enjoy reading it.

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  4. I feel very like you Saz, finding it so terrible difficult to write at the moment when once words spilled forth like a leaky down pipe! Again like you my head is constantly saturated with thoughts and musings that at one time would have been blogged, and yet now at sit and stare at the empty screen just not able to write then down....

    I loved your 'repeat' today, thank you x

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  5. Listen to Claptons - Running on Faith - I love that song when I feel like that :-)

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  6. Hey where did the comment button go :(.

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  7. It would seem you're not alone. Yours is the third such post about finding it difficult to write at the moment. This too shall pass.

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  8. Interesting that you were unsettled even then and you were searching for comfort in familiar things.

    It will come back to you, that need to express yourself, meanwhile...breathe. XXX

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  9. Moannie is so right ... deep breaths ... keep breathing .. it will all come together .. xo

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  10. Saz, I think all writers dry up from time to time - even the greatest of the great. Novelists and playwrites and script writers . . . . everyone!
    From what I have seen you are a regular 'poster' and sooner or later ideas will be 'used up' and how to tell them will be clouded.
    It will come back, please don't worry.
    I liked your healing post which I have not seen before.
    Interestingly enough soon I am joining a group who are involved with laying on hands and healing - it is something I have wanted to do for 25 years.
    Take care ~ Eddie

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  11. "but I cannot seem to string the words together in an appropriate fashion"
    This sounds so familiar. I think I know that you are not speaking of common "writer's block" - it is the actual inability to string words together, even though you can "feel" them but once you start to write them down, they refuse to be put onto paper (typed, whatever).
    If you look at the first few years of my blog, you'll notice that I hardly ever wrote more than a few words: Those few took enormous effort, I could hardly express a thought in words. I remember the day I realized I had lost the ability to write, to string words together. I was scared, afraid I was running mad. It was truly scary and frightening. I think it was a sign of depression, there were so many things in my life that literally sucked the life force out of me, loss of loved ones, loss of places I called home, all these changes and losses washed over me to the point where my body's resources were overstretched, those famous happy hormones, the ones that give us the strength and stamina to go through tough times, depleted.
    I hope you do find all the help and support you need. With my very best wishes,
    M.

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  12. Greetings fgrom a fellow Cumbrian (diagonally accross the county from you!). I can find healing in the solitude of the fells - the call of a raven, a soaring buzzard or, more recently, alone in my kayak on Coniston Water.
    I wish you bon courage.

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  13. I confess, I often re-post, and I don't even say it when I do!! Sad thing is, most of my reader's never even noticed (eeek)! We all run on empty sometimes, Saz (hugs). You are busy replenishing yourself, and doing it well. I look forward to a tip-toe through your blog-attic's, I suspect a lot in there has slipped me by..

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  14. Hey! I'm "the man"! Cool!

    Dread repeats? Not me, as you know from my past few months. You've hit on an interesting truth, of course, in that sometimes, when re-reading our past postings, we find that what we thought we were saying wasn't all that was said. Fascinating, isn't it?

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Thanks for stopping by!

Take the weight of your feet, draw up a chair and pour yourself a cuppa. Leave your troubles at the door and together we shall ride out the storms.
I will walk a while in your shoes...

Saz x