Hermitism

 Hermtised: (urban dictionary) 

... when you are adapted to the hermit life and accepted that is your life style.

Detail of ' Aerial, 2014 © Corina Duyn

So much of my day is spend in solitude, in silence. I know of course that I am not alone in this – I am just one in a worldwide community of hermits, a life imposed on us due to chronic illness. In my case M.E.

Most of the time I am utterly comfortable in my own space. I don't need the radio or have ‘white’ noise around me. I am comfortable in the silence of my own breath and the sounds of life around me, like the weather. The birds my fateful companions (as long as the feeders are filled regularly!) On a good day I bask in the sound of birds through the open door, or on an even better day, I am among the birds and soak in the sound of nature. These moments brings joy to my heart.

In my hermit life I have stopped watching television about 18 months ago. I do occasionally watch a movie or documentary on Netflix in the afternoons. If something really touches me, I end up writing down quotes from these film-sessions. Some of these musings end up in some shape or form in my creative work.

 Anyway.
Solitude: living like a hermit…

It truly is a ‘funny’ thing. Although I am confortable with this hermit status, the reality is that I can't actually fully live on my own. Be a true hermit. I am in need of basic care to reaming living at home. Two sides of the same coin. Yet at times I wonder would I actually be able to totally retreat from the world? Would I be ok with being a ‘monk’? Or is it more a case that I have adapted to this life, and is not so much by choice…

I am very aware that the way I see the world, who I am, how my creative work and writing has evolved is as a result of this hermitised life. I can mostly see this as a positive.

But yet, I so very much appreciate and enjoy the company of friends and family, in person, on the phone or via video links. I also value the contacts made via social media. However, the other side of having company is, that these wonderful interactions often take more energy than I actually have, so I end up in need of more solitude.

And round the circle goes.

It is all a matter of balance. Of careful planning.

The bit that is most challenging with hermatism is that at times I have a desperate need to escape beyond the walls, which keep me ‘captive’.

A note in my journal reads: 

“it remains to fricking hard… It is a most beautiful day. Almost clear sky, a hint of spring after days of heavy rain.

A lovely day for a walk!

I can’t – or can I? Walk, of course, as in spin in my wheelchair. I can’t, as I wouldn't have enough energy to put on a coat, and shoes, and hat, and scarf and take it all off again after an escape of ten minutes…

So the answer is: Nope.”

That sunny mid January day I resolved to go out into the garden instead. I put on a jacket hanging by the back door. I was out for all of five minutes, pulling up some dead leaves covering tiny sprigs of new growth. In terms of the garden, the result was most gratifying. My body however was a lot less impressed. I had jelly legs; arms were like lead. I needed to lie down as I was in a lot of pain.

Joy so close to tears.

Later I wrote

“I feel at times my heart is breaking.”

The solution is to do one little thing a day which brings fulfillment. I need to be able to say at the end of the day that I had a lovely day, that I did something that brought me joy. Even if it consist of some very small achievement:  A bit of ‘gardening’; sit out among the birds; sort out ‘stuff’ (my current favourite); or something creative, perhaps colouring, or writing; or catch up with a friend.

Re-evaluate again what I can and cannot do. Then hermitism isn’t such a bad place to be in.

PS ... and as I now have (very few) PA hours in which I can be assisted to go outside my home with support, maybe hermitism is a little more manageable too!

'Aerial'  © Corina Duyn,
58x20x15cm, 2014

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.