Great adventures from the confines of my house

Life can be curious.

The past month or so, I have been rarely outside the door.
Twice to go to hospital appointments, once to the library, and once to Dungarvan, two weeks ago. An hour buzzing around on my scooter through two shops. Sitting in a cafe waiting for my lift to bring me home again, I had a great difficulty to walk from the chair back to my scooter. About six steps?
It had taken many false starts to actually get out the door, so back on my couch at home, I was pleased I had done a 'normal' thing on a normal Saturday.

While in recovery mode, I received a message via Facebook from a lecturer at Nottingham Trent University to invite me to give a talk at a puppet festival in March ...
Sure! Great!
I nearly got up to pack my bags there and then.

The freedom of my mind...

I did wonder if my brain - my mind - is amazing, or deeply flawed ...

Here I was, ill from one hour on my scooter, a total of about two hours outside my house, and yet I did not see any difficulty with the prospect of going to the UK. Or even to Canada next summer. Another invitation to talk about my puppets...

I know I can do it. I know I can go to the UK. It does however require a lot of planning.

I made it to the family reunion in Holland during the summer. Tough on my health, but so worth it.

The journey the puppets are bringing me on, is just to amazing too dismiss.

Puppets, ME, Disability, health, are all part of my story. 

Although I rarely get outside the door, I am reaching people far beyond my wildest dreams. As if the strings of the puppets are bringing me out into the world again.

* There are contacts with some amazing women who, behind the scenes, are making the experience of life with ME in today's Ireland to the people who need to hear it: Politicians, HSE staff. Researchers, Hospital consultants, OT's, Social Welfare, the public who still believes we are just a little tired...

I am in awe of the power of this very small group. 

* Contacts too with other creatives, who encourage me to keep going. Who trust me to share with them the art of making puppets. Or trust in the creative process in general.

 * Contacts with readers of my books. For example an email from a mother of a young woman severely ill with ME.  ... As I try and motivate and stimulate K to use her sore eyes more, we started putting a new picture in her room each day for her to look at and enjoy. ...  we have been using a new nature picture from the Into the Light box each day.  Her favourite so far has been raindrops hanging from red buds. That one has stayed in her room well beyond its allotted day as she loves it so much... 

* Contacts with puppeteers from around the globe.

* Being supported by friends and family in all sorts of kind ways. Touching each other's lives. Learning from our varied stories.

* And being invited for a radio interview with Bernadette and Stan Phillips on their World in View program. Exactly a year since the interview during the Dis ability ... This Ability Exhibition, which perhaps was one of those pivotal steps in my own adventures of stepping out of the disability/illness box with the help of my puppets...

Listen to the interview here 

(about 15 minutes long)

And in the next few weeks there are more adventures, for which I do not have to leave my house.

• I have a meeting with Senator Grace O'Sullivan to talk about ME, Disability and Puppets. Grace gave a very passionate talk at the Dis ability ... This Ability Exhibition exhibition last year.
• On Friday 1st December Cora Fitzgerald's Cocoon Life Website will go live. And I have the honour to be their first guest with a (pre-recorded) podcast.  'Cocoon life is a website about inspiring Journeys, Life lived With Purpose'.

• 

  image /text for the Cocoon Life podcast recording
  

• Also on Friday 1st December, the special version of the Life Outside the Box will be screened on Irish National television. RTE 1 6 pm, during the People's Angelus.
• On the 8th December our puppet film will be shown during the Together! Festival in London.
• I will be going out to meet prospective new readers during the Villierstown Craft fair Sunday 26th November!

Phew.

So, although life can be hugely challenging at times, it is also amazingly rewarding. And curious.

Thank you ALL for coming along on my adventures through life.

I could not have done it without you.

Don't forget the sale which is on at the moment on my website and at my studio. 

And during the Villierstown Craft fair Sunday 26th November.

20% discount on books and prints during November, 10% during first two weeks in December.

 

The Irish Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Puppets

Puppet making has its very cruel moments. No doubt about that. 

But Ciara C.  gave me the dubious title as "Puppet Serial Killer" recently. 

I wonder why? :-)

The 'girls' of the "Reflection" project  seem to be ok with their treatments.

They seem happy!

Well, yes, I can kind of see where Ciara got the idea...

In my defence... it IS easier to put the hair on when the
heads are not attached to the bodies.

Defence no2: What else can I do, when the neck of one
puppet is longer than its mirror image.

I think I am more of a 'putting them all together again'  kind of maker...

No more Puppet Cruelty. 

I promise.

And if there is, I will given 'the girls' the contact details of the ISPCP

(The Irish Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Puppets)

The girls are now deciding on the next stage of their clothing.

For information and images about my puppet MAKING classes, either in my studio in Lismore, Ireland, or via distant learning, please see THIS post

you can make anything by writing

I am still out of sorts

but sorting myself out

... these were the words which appeared on my diary page this morning. I am still out of sorts, but sorting myself out.

I left it at that.

I seem to be still in the process to re-establish the me in my life, after the busy and at times confusing few months. 

Clearing helps. Clearing my garden was so powerful. And am now in the process of more tidying in my house. Again... An ongoing project really. 

I seem to have the need to move things around (and in the process, moving energy around...) 

And to dispose of stuff. 

Tidy my books. My desk. My studio. My space. My head.

Johhny Dwyer overseeing the tidying of my study.

I know that this is all in preparation for good things to come.

I also cleared some people out of my life (metaphorically speaking of course) and invited some others to join me on my journey. Mostly creative people.

So, while I tidy up my life, I am getting ready for new adventures.

Creating.

Teaching.

Writing.

To reflect on C.S. Lewis's wise words which I have written on Puppet Johnny Dwyer's travel box... "You can make anything by writing."

Writing words in my diary, sharing my private thoughts which seem to flow from my pen onto the clear space in front of me. Sharing the challenges, the joys, the hopes and desires. To make plans. All in the safe place between pen and paper. I never stop marveling of the power of this excersice.

Creative ideas come into focus. But also life in general.

I can make anything by writing.

"You can make anything by writing"
C.S. Lewis
Cover of Johnny Dwyer's travel box

Be well my dear friends.
Wishing you a lovely weekend!
And maybe... find a lovely notebook and most comfortabel pen, or embark on a space clearing exercise... a few minutes at the time.

Closing, and (re)opening doors

Yesterday was one of those days...
It started off with the challenge of pretty bad fatigue accompanied by pain. Inflammation of some sort? Anyway, the way brightened as it went its merry way.

Post arrived

I am still a great believer in the beauty of receiving post via the letterbox.
A letter accompanied by printed photos. Thanks Moira.

page from Hatched

And a letter with an appointment for the MRI. At last I have been given a landing slot and can stop circling the skies. It is even in time before my appointment to get the results from the neurologist. (I had appointment for result, but no date for test). Logic, it seems, has prevailed. Or perhaps the stern letter from my GP worked. Whatever the case, I have an appointment. I hope of course that is it 'just ME' or old age setting in, and not something else to scare me. But whatever comes up, it is already there. I just don't know a name for it.

Closing one door

To clear the way to follow my desire to teach again, as I wrote the other day I decided on closing one door, to be able to have energy to open another.
I would dearly like to find ways to facilitate puppet workshops with people and groups in them community. To reach out to people who could benefit from being involved in the creative process. The puppet project (and similar I had done, prior to illness, with teenagers in a group home) brought the value of this clearly into focus. As teaching would take a great deal of my energy, I decided that I can no longer go to the Irish Wheelchair Association (IWA) resource centre. (It is there where I facilitated the Life Outside the Box Puppetry project.) I have been going to the centre as a IWA member for a few years, but feel it is time to move on. It is not a place I can further grow. And teaching, I know, would be my one big event in the week, so I closed the IWA Resource Centre door today.

Opening a door to the past

As it happens, as life seem to happen in its peculiar ways, soon after I emailed my letter off to the IWA, a young woman from Finland made contact via Facebook. The name rang a bell... She and her friend were my students shortly before I became ill in 1998. They were about 17 at the time and stayed with me for a month to learn the art of doll making as part of their art college course in Finland. We did not have contact for at least 17 years.

So here I am, on a day when I make a firm commitment to myself to go back to teaching puppetry and Doll Art, in some shape or from, whatever is practical and workable, I hear from one of the last people I taught before illness changed my life. Sari did not become a Doll Artist, her friend Anna did. Sari sounded happy in life.

Opening new doors

So, whatever way this teaching will happen, I am ready to listen to the universe. I am ready to explore and be guided in how, and where I will continue my journey.

Tired

These are just a few short observations/ poems from 2001, as featured in Hatched Re-Hatched.
However, I still moments in the present time in which I can relate to them, ...  more than I wish to acknowledge. However, the emotion and the wisdom surrounding this has changed. The experience remains raw.
I know I am not alone in this...

Be well my heroes.
Hang in there.
There will be better days.
I promise.

HEAVY WEIGHT 25 January 2001

Confrontations 
with my tired body
Lowering my head
just above
the bowl of porridge
my hand
and spoon
thereby
greatly reducing 
the distance
have to travel 
to my mouth

page from Hatched (re-hatched) by Corina Duyn 2006

WATERSHED
15 March 2001

Nearly in tears  
deciding
if taking a shower 
would be 
a good use
of energy 



DUCK OUT OF WATER 
23 September 2001

Negotiating 
door saddle 
kind of 
tired

The root of sorrow is craving, but there is always hope to see the bigger picture

The root of sorrow is craving.

Antony de Mello - Awareness 

potbound Aloe Vera

Three weeks of recovery from the 'hospital-Holland-marathon', and I seem to be finally completing the road to re-connect with the person that I thought was me.  Both the hospital and travel had a rather big impact on my mind. On my beliefs. On my physical, but also mental well being.
I became aware of a sense of loss. I realize that the sorrow, the sense of loss, were based on what I perceive I do not have.

"Ghosts of lives you might have lived ... If not becoming ill ..."

Hilary Mantell. Learning to talk.

I wanted to be like my siblings, who are walking, cycling, working, able to stay up late and rely on their working brain, be sociable, and not having to go to bed at the same time as the 4-years-olds... I became much more aware of my life with illness.  Of course they have their challenges too. Everybody has. I just needed a little time to make sense of it all again. To put 'everything' back into perspective. I needed to hope again. And to see the bigger picture.

"Waiting with a resilience of spirit, in the certain knowledge that, 

if we wait long enough and if we are true to ourselves 

then things will make sense, is waiting in hope."

Sister Stanislaus Kennedy. Gardening the Soul 

The happiest place I could be these past few weeks was in my garden. Touching the earth. Grounding myself. Clearing, re-arranging my garden and my thoughts.

"If we lose touch with our sources, we are in danger of losing hope. 

That is why it is so important to stay close to nature, to listen to the trees and flowers, 

potatoes and hedges, shrubs and bulbs grow in silence.”

Sister Stanislaus Kennedy. Gardening the Soul 

Although yesterday was mainly spend recovering from outstaying the welcome in my garden the day before (weeds are more difficult to remove from gravel than it is from soil... trust me... ) I also had the great fortune to have a lovely meeting with an other creative being.

A creative meeting about possibilities for my work. Where to go from here.
To see the bigger picture of years of creating, and learning. A meeting in which minds were aligned, and experienced support, from a clear, open and honest mind. A chat which gave me hope and direction, and in which I saw my work through someone else's eyes and experiences. It also brought a possible new meaning of the project I have been working on for over a year. I am so glad I did not cancel that meeting because of the challnges of my body that day!

Life-Dance - work in progress

I might not be able to walk much, or cycle, or stay up late, or garden to my heart's content, but I have hope. Hope with a capital H. Which is ultimately linked with Trust.
Trust that all is well. And that I can see the biger picture of my life as it is.

I am grateful to have spend so much time in my garden these past few weeks. To reconnect with nature, with Mother Earth.
And to have taken the time at making sense of own little world again.
To observe what I value most. And... where I don't want to be. And where I can possibly go from here. To have reconnected - even it is just through talking about- and not quite doing- with my creative life.

Grateful to have taken time to reconnect with me again, not just with the capital letters M.E.


I truly hope that you, my dear readers, are well. 
And are finding hope, with a capital H, in your lives.
Thank you so much for your continued interest in my musing.
Be well.

Retreat

... from Latin retrahere ‘pull back’ 

For the past few days

I had the great need, 

to retreat 

from the world.

To clear space

in my mind.

I found solace

in my front garden

Connecting with the earth

clearing weeds

cutting back

making space.

A few minutes at the time.

Taking plenty of time

to watch the snails 'moving house'

as I unintentionally 

disrupted their world.

My apologies.

Today, I was grateful

to connect
with the earth
when a bizarre telephone conversation
with a hospital staff member
brought my sanity

into question.

Sitting on my small crate

under the apple trees

pulling weeds

brought my mind back to

trusting my own thoughts.

Nature is healing.

The power of Meditation music

I start and finish each day

with listening to Meditation music

Free download from Sounds True

In the morning

I listen to Meditation Music from Sounds True during meditation,
during writing,
or if I wake up too early and still need some time to relax.

The music is FREE to download if you sign up to Sounds True, which has a store of other free downloads and an amazing array of books and CD's etc for healing, and learning.

It sets me up for the day.

Available from Sounds True

At night

When getting ready for bed, I listen to Self healing with Sound and Music; Revitalize Your Body & Mind with Proven Sound-Healing Tools by Andrew Weil, Kimba Arem

There are two CD's: in Session One, Dr. Weil discusses the latest in medical research that demonstrates how music heals the body and mind, while Kimba Arem teaches breathing and vocalization techniques for harnessing this potential. Session Two gives listeners just the music: a complete sound journey into expanded states of consciousness optimized for healing.

Some free videos on Youtube , and the CD, or download is available here.

I first found it in my local library years ago,and have listened to it almost daily. I have it downloaded onto an old iPod which is permanently in my bedroom.

Walking sticks or rolator

Yesterday I had a follow up meeting with the Community Physiotherapist after the hospital stay a month or so ago.
I was greeted with utmost respect and understanding. The assessment was detailed and lasted for over an hour. She gave me much credit for knowing my body well, and for being aware of the value of pacing etc. It really warms the heart to be listened to, and to have someone work with, to see if there is anyway I can improve my mobility and ability to some degree.

As we conducted the first part of a balance test, I kind of joked how I used to be a gymnast in my day. A reasonably good one. I even did some teaching for a few years. Good memories. Very good memories.
The physiotherapist said that the experience of being a gymnast probably helps me now with how to evaluate the workings (or non-workings) of my physical body. I know how to adjust my posture, although this does not come natural anymore.

Another discussion, after spotting a rolator in the gym, was about the use of mobility aids.
I have a parking lot full ...
From walking sticks, to a rolator, manual wheelchair and two mobility scooters (a small portable one, and a big sturdy one).

After my steps into the sea in Texel,
with my brother Kees

As I want to build up my walking outside the house again, which I had resumed last autumn but collapsed back in February  I was wondering should I use the rolator in stead of my two sticks?

During a test, it proved that I walk with the same """speed""' (ha ha) with both, but that maybe the rolator, which has a little seat on it, will ease the stress of walking outside the door.
I can walk the same distance, but can sit down and enjoy the view, without the worry that I need to get home quick before my legs give up.

I like that.
It makes sense.

The reason I suppose I am more likely to use sticks v. rolator is a mental one.
With sticks I feel less disabled than using a rolator.
The same counts for a manual wheelchair verses a powered one.
My 'pimped' wheelchair versus a boring black one.
I feel less disabled ON my scooter, than IN my wheelchair.
Or being in wheelchair accessible taxi (seated in my wheelchair) than in the a transit with the HUGE letters Irish Wheelchair Association on it.

It is all just a tricks of the mind.

page from Into the Light. 
IN a wheelchair, or ON a scooter

my pimped wheelchair

Is routine the key to living well with illness?

Lots of thoughts this morning. About meditation, medication, routine, pacing, finding my way again.

Meditation

The power of meditation to feel how my body truly feels. And not to mask pain totally with pain medication.
A fine line, I think.

Medication

Yes, I do take pain medication. I am very glad to have them.
After many trails over the years of strong pain relief, I now mainly use very basic medication. The more drastic ones all had me end up living like a zombie, or had too many side effects, which made life more intolerable in different ways. (Note: This is my experience. I am sure that we all have different views on this.)

There are days that I find it important to really see/feel how my body is functioning.
By taking too much pain medication, there is the change that I continually overdo it, because I don't feel the pain which activities are causing. The danger arises that I end up in a vicious circle.
... if that makes sense...?

Preventative pain relief

I do take pain medication in advance of an activity, when I know I simply don't have a choice not to overdo it. Like for travel, or extended outings.
Sometimes I take pain medication when I am in the middle of an activity where there is no choice but to keep going. I can hardly lie down in a shop, or on the street when I can no longer function due to pain or fatigue. The basic Paracetamol seems to work for this to some degree.
In the hospital I was advised to take paracetamol on a routine basis. I followed this advise for the Holland adventures, but am now trying to take less again.

... and dealing with pain after doing too much

Other times I have already grossly overstayed my own welcome in being kind and considerate to my body...
Like yesterday.
Where I had a friend help me in the garden to do some weeding. She did not mind at all, at all, if I did nothing but observe. But I LOVE being involved in my garden so I did my bit of weeding. Sitting down. But I did too much. I felt ill. In so much pain. I spend the rest of the afternoon on the bench in the garden and on the couch. So, yes. I did dowse myself with pain relief. And yes I did feel a bit better after a few hours. But is that really the answer?

I don't think it is.

'Wisdom' sculpture by Corina Duyn 2015, background view is in Dzogchen Beara

So, back to meditation

Hence I started my day with meditation, to really explore where I am at. How to proceed. How to get back to being well again. Well within illness. Well without putting too many chemicals into my body. Well by listening to my body.

I would like to get back to my routine. To stay within my levels of ability. Which due to the surgery and the 'hospital-Holland-marathon' has taken a good few steps backwards.

I know that for me routine is the key to living well with illness. 

I need to get back to:

• Pacing my activities:
•  Exploring over the next few weeks where my level of ability is at this point in time.
• Establishing my routine again:
• Spend time in Meditation
• To be involved in creative activities and writing
• Connect with nature
• Have social contact at least once a day, in the form of actual meetings, and if that is not possible, than a phone call or skype is great too.
• Do some form of movement, through breathing, yoga, tai chi, or walking.
• Prepare for a Proper sleepWhen things get tough to do a very short healing meditation 

• To eat well. To not put the 'wrong fuel in my body'.
• To just be. Be with whatever is happening.

That is my plan.

What is your plan?

Thank you for your kindness

We may decide that a puma is worth more to us than a caterpillar, 

but surely we can agree that the habitat is all the better for being able to sustain each.

Stephen Fry - The Fry Chronicles

A big thank you to my readers far and wide who responded with such kindness towards yesterday's post, about making sense of living life with illness.
You responded with sharing your own stories and experiences, which I know will be of support to many others.

"... Since I came to accept my condition (accepting doesn't mean I'm happy with it!), kinda made 'friends' with it, seeing it as a part of me (not 'me'), I feel much more content and can actually enjoy life within all my limitations..."

So many of you responded on my Facebook page, via personal messages and emails.

Thank you all, for keeping me and others who live with their own challenges, in your hearts and minds.

Also thank you for helping me to see again that perhaps my life is not as 'bizarre' as I thought it was/is. My life is just different.

"You are a true artist, and in remaining true to yourself and your art and what you create from your own intimate self you are then whole as a person as a spiritual and human being..."


There is little point in comparing my life with those living in a different world. I just got a little confused for the past while.

I leave you with some words I wrote in my Into the Light book, which also has the above quote by Stephen Fry in it.
We are all different, thank goodness for that...

Be well my friends, and thank you again for your company and opening your hearts.



my words on the page from Into the Light read:

Bodies come in all shapes colours and sizes
White bodies and black Tall bodies and little ones Female, and male Healthy ones and ill ones
The right body and the other

Throughout the history of western civilization emphasis has been placed on achieving the perfect body 
Great value is put on physical ability

We are all different thank goodness
What a boring world we would have if we were all perfect Whatever that might be 

Making sense of life with illness

... just to be able to stop and, instead of catastrophizing what might happen, to say,

 "I'm just so grateful, because to feel this vulnerable means I'm alive." 

Brené Brown The power of vulnerability

I thought I felt challenged these past few days because of the reality of pain and pretty extreme fatigue as aftermath from my marathon weeks of hospital and travel. But there is something else at play. 

I read this question on facebook yesterday from another person living with M.E.: [abstract] ... I am thinking a lot about purpose and meaning at the moment, especially because I am feeling unmotivated, depressed and *useless*.
While writing a response, I realised why I feel vulnerable at the moment: I am out of my comfort zone and realised how bizarre my life really is, in terms of the "norm".

stepping into the real world

Having had my 'toe in the real world' during the Holland adventures, seemed to have unsettled me. A world in which I am surrounded by people who live normal lives. Who have jobs, family, kids, and go about their activities at will. (most likely a generalization, and not always true, but that is what is looks and feels like from my point of view.)

Maybe, I find it easier to stay in my own created world. 
A world that I understand and can function in. If that makes sense. 
No, it is not what I have hoped for in my life, but within my life with illness I have created a good life. I do truly believe that. 

These views are just a little askew at the moment. 
I have to find ways to find my own life again. To reconnect with my creativity, my garden, and my writing. To start doing things a few minutes at the time again, to reestablish a routine.

But also to give myself the time to feel what is really feels like to live with a body which does not conform. A body which is painful, and has many demands. To look at how I have a tendency to look at the good things, and to laugh away something that in all honesty is not funny at all. 

My dear friend Chris, whom I had the pleasure of spending a few days with in Holland, mentioned this too, during our last night's dinner. I asked her at the time 'not to go there, as I would start to cry.'

My animation project cocoon.
Nothing is a coincidence

So it really is important to now, in the comfort of my own home, in my own cocoon, to truly look at this. And to look at what the family reunion, and the making of Snapshots, means for me. 
Nothing is a coincidence...

Life. Creativity. Writing. Meeting people. 
Nothing is a coincidence...

Be well my dear friends, and I gladly hear or read your own thoughts on vulnerability, and how you finds ways to make sense of it all.

Fragile

Today I aspire to be like the fragile, and yet strong poppy flower

poppy flower

While I try to hang on to those amazing moments of my trip to my country of birth, there are so many thoughts swirling through my painful and tired body. Too many to relate in the one post. 

While I re-arrange them into order in my head, and make sense of them all, the one overriding word for today is: 

FRAGILE: 

(of a person) not strong or sturdy; delicate and vulnerable.

Synonyms: weak, delicate, frail, debilitated, shaky, ill, unwell, ailing, poorly, infirm, feeble...

Origin: late 15th century (in the sense ‘morally weak’): from Latin fragilis, from frangere ‘to break’. The sense ‘liable to break’ dates from the mid 16th century. (and an interesting graft of the use of the word Fragile over time - became popular since the 60's)

Imploding, exploding

 

Home!

While my body seems to have "Imploded"

implode

ɪmˈpləʊd/

verb

past tense: imploded; past participle: imploded

1. 
   

   collapse or cause to collapse violently inwards.

My Garden seems to have  "Exploded" 

into a vast array of colours and massive growth.

explode

ɪkˈspləʊd,ɛkˈspləʊd/

verb

burst or shatter violently and noisily as a result of rapid combustion,

excessive internal pressure, or other process.

 

Good to be home.

I will 'process' all that happened 

during the past three weeks

all in its own good time.

Always lovely to have your company.
Be well.

Homeward bounds

Today I am on my homeward journey.

I am looking forward to being home, but I am not looking forward to traveling...

My body has decided that the downward spiral should start while I observe the Grote Kerk (big church) from my hotel bed. A view which is hard to beat, if I may so so. I am in pain. Serious pain. It woke me up in the very early hours of this morning. It was hard to mentally cope with that reality. Knowing that I am having a very long day ahead of me. 

Medication and Meditation. My two reliable sources. My body felt as it is was 'twisted'. There was not one 'straight line' to be detected when I 'scanned' my body during meditation. A peculiar, and rather uncomfortable feeling.

And yes, I was upset. It will cost me a great deal of mental persuasion today,  to not think too far ahead. Today is one of those days that one minute, one breath at the time is the only way I can reach my own bed tonight with my mind and body in tact.

Two days ago I spent time with friend Marga, and visited the grave of my friend Gert who passed away two months ago. It was an emotional, and yet peaceful day. We also had plenty of laughs. I met their children, partner of one, and a new addition to the family, a two week old baby boy. 

Yesterday I mainly watched the world from my bed. Although we (Christine and I) also visited some shops, before some more 'world-passing-by-time' before a lovey dinner out. 

Visits, shopping, dinner. 

All so normal. 

And yet it is not.

I am still glad I came and of proud of my carefully constructed plan to make this trip remotely possible.

Home tonight.

Own bed!

The reunion weekend is over, but the memories remain

 

Our family reunion is over again.

Years of thoughts.

Months of planning the 'Bigger picture'.

Weeks of organising the finer details.

Days of chats 

Hours of fun

Minutes filled with memories 

Moments to never be forgotten.

Thank you all.

I am glad I did travel. True, I was very worried about the practicalities and realities of travel. Of being with so many people in one location. Of how my health would hold up. Accessibility. Noise. Etc, etc.

But I managed. With pacing, when it was remotely possible. With taking the maximum pain relief. With meditating. With retreating into my 'cave'. Thanks to brother Hans for finding a group accommodation with an accessible room, which I could have all on my own. And knowing I will be home, in my own surroundings in a few days.

Right now I am in Haarlem catching up on rest, and with friends.

It was very special to be with my family. Unique. And yet so 'normal' in a way.

It was beautiful to see how we share same ideas and thoughts, and habits, although our lives are lived so differently. Lives in Canada, Chile, London, Netherlands, Ireland. In cities, and in the middle of the country, in complete solitude.

The Duyn-humour was evident in every generation. Ages were from my 2year old grand niece, to my eldest sister of 70. And even to our aunt Corry who traveled from Canada too, aged 88. She is the younger sister of my mother. My dad's youngest brother Theo, also aged 88 visited on Sunday, with two daughters. 

The magnitude of this event will take some time to sink in.

For now I have memories, and more contacts with my family via social media. I have photos.

I realised that photos are important to me. I was not able to fully partake in all the activities, but have have documented those special moments. I looked at them in bed, when aware of the family fun outside my 'cave'. Memories of people, and of course the walk on the beach and bike ride.

All good!

X

Taking back the power

This morning I decided to stay in bed for a while and watch a movie. Sunday morning luxury.

In the movie there was a scene in an airport, where travellers were transported on the airport-caddy.

I thought "That is me." I am that kind of person. "old", or "disabled".

It shook me.

I got upset.

I don't get upset that easily... What is going on?

Later on, I spoke to my wise friend Dolores. 

She asked about my week in hospital. I told her of the beautiful moments, and the more challenging. (see post of the past 5 days - if you like to read them.)

This is the jest of what we talked about:

When you are called into hospital, it is a kind of contract. The stay has a purpose. It did not work. This lack of fulfilling the 'contract' can be compared to a betraying of trust.

Through the experience of the positive but challenging detailed probing into my symptoms by the physiotherapist, the waiting for MRI, the not talking with the neurologist before heading home (as tests were not completed), they robbed me of my power.

It left me vulnerable.

I think I am pretty good at managing my illness. How to deal with it on a day to day basis. How to work around the symptoms. How to work with the symptoms. How to make my day- my life- good. Maybe it is a brilliant case of sticking my head in the sand (or in my garden and my art and writing). I am well. I live well.

But being in hospital and being subjected to an ill-system makes me upset.

I go in happy and with an open mind. And come out upset, with a frazzled mind.

So, today, I am going to take back the power, as I have a busy few weeks ahead of me. 

My journey to Holland starts tomorrow with a trip to the airport hotel. And then a Very Early start on Tuesday.

I will try to stay in touch here on my blog. ... if there is anyone who can tell me how to add images to the blog if writing on the iPad, please, please let me know!

Taking back the power started with a walk around me garden. And I like to ask you to join me.

Much love

Corina

Taking back the power