|Póilin looking out at the birds|
(just like me)
To my astonishment, I did not even write one word in my personal diary/journal/notebook what ever one wants to call it. I came back with a completely blank (brand new- gorgeous leather bound) notebook.
When I think about it, maybe it is not so 'astounishing' as although I managed to do my talks and meetings - most of the remainder of my time I was resting. And tried very hard to stay as well as well could be.
I did it.
I am proud I did my talks. Honoured to have received such lovely responses. Grateful for the time I was given by other puppet makers/designers/performers to explore new skills and to find way to incorporate puppets in my journey with M.E. Touched by the kindness of strangers, who wanted to hear my story and by those who so kindly gave their time to support me.
I am so utterly overwhelmed by the reality of M.E. By the onslaught this adventure had on my body. On my mind. On my conviction that I can rise above the challenges of my body.
And that is another reason why I still have not written one word in my diary. Because I know that if I start writing about the amazing people I met, the joy of 'all things puppet', the kindness, the opportunities, I will also have to fact that I feel utterly at a loss. That I am out of sorts. That I am so aware of the reality of even more limiting mobility, of needing more practical support, of the fight we - as people with M.E- have to fight in order to be heard and seen. To be accepted. To be understood. To be valued. To have our very real and honest experiences taken seriously by the HSE and the Government. To not be told that we are not ill.
Oh my goodness, do I want to be well!
I want to be able to follow up on the puppet and writing opportunities coming my way.
I want to 'go out and play'.
I want to write for journals. For news papers.
To go back into my studio and explore new ways of making puppets.
I long to go out and walk. To just leave my house - alone- and go to the supermarket - the bank- a cafe.
Go for walk outside my gate to the river I know is there.
Take a drive to the beach. A walk in the woods. To touch and smell the forest.
To see spring/summer arrive. To see the forest carpet of blue bells and wild garlic.
(of boy - this writing is taking a very different leap to what I thought when I turned on the computer...)
Anyway. If anyone dares to tell me that I am ill because of a lack of 'want',
Well, as one of my puppets said:
'The next dr. who tells me 'it's all in my head
and that happy thoughts will cure me'
Well, I'd better NOT say what
I will do to them ...
|One of "The Girls" ready for the Protest in Dublin|
Yes, I am utterly sad at the moment.
I am sad because I am ill.
I am not ill because I am sad.
I am sad as I know of so many others with M.E. who are fighting all the time to be heard, to get support. Who are stuck at home and are doing their best to find ways to live well.
As you might know, I am a member of M.E. Advocates Ireland- a groups of 7 women, all living with or caring for someone with M.E. On our blog there are some harrowing, sad, powerful stories about the reality of life with M.E. And how wee see what needs to be - and can- change.
We campaign from our beds and homes.
We are campaigning for change - through the media - social media - radio interview and a Visibility Protest on Thursday A 10th May at our Government Buildings
I won't be there myself, but am doing my bit through the media. Travel, or staying overnight in a hotel is way beyond me at the moment. Even the thought of it is too much.
|Read article HERE|
Uprooting- and grounding
To find me again, within the reality of M.E., I have been resting. Watching movies. Watching the birds. And been reconnecting with the earth. Every day I go out and clear a tiny patch in my garden. 5 minutes. Ten minutes when I am brave - or foolish.
Feeling the earth. Smelling the earth. Touching base. Grounding myself, are hugely important.
after time away from all I know...
Slowly, I hope to gaining ground again.
Clearing my garden also creates a sense of space. Physical space in my garden, mental space in my head.
I hope that by having been brave enough to face my blog again, maybe I will truly pick up my pen and start writing. Start facing the daemons. Find that level of acceptance again and move on.
When the time is right, I will look at the photos of my puppet adventures. Listen to the talks I gave, and try to bring the experiences into focus, for myself and for anyone who want to hear/read it.
Thank you again to all who made the journey possible.
In time I will understand the essence of this adventure. Learn from it and find ways to incorporate puppets and travel into my life.