If you don't try...

I think I learned something yesterday: if you don't put yourself out there, then you miss opportunities. I had a call from a potential employer to whom I'd sent my CV six weeks ago. I wasn't right for the initial job, but a new one, that is right up my ally, has arisen and she thought of me! I should know more in a week or two when someone else comes back from leave so for now it's a matter of patience. I'm going to try to apply this lesson (similar to 'ask and ye shall receive') when I do this week's marriage counsellor homework. The homework is to write three needs that we each want the other person to help us meet and the behaviours they can do to meet them. I was censoring my ideas because I kept thinking, 'my husband won't want to do that....' I'm going to try writing my needs down and see what comes of it.

A quiet life

I am living a very quiet life at the moment, particularly on days when my husband is out of the state for work. This doesn't mean that I'm not doing anything. Most days I do chores around the house, get groceries, write, send out stories to publishers, go to class, do homework, job hunt, maybe see a friend or two, do yoga or go for a walk, etc. But when I'm at home the house is silent except for conversations between the cat and I, or when the TV is on. Also, there is very little stress and drama in my life right now, especially since my husband and I are trying to work on things and I'm not dreading negative interactions. This is not meant as complaint or boasting; this is to remind myself that this is what I need. This reminder is timely because the other day I caught myself wondering if I was bored, now I realise I wasn't, I just wasn't feeling stressed. I know soon enough stress will probably re-enter my life when I get a part-time job and start doing assessments for class, and that's probably not a bad thing up to a point. For now though, this is a reminder to myself to enjoy my quiet life while I have it. Maybe once life returns to a more normal pace, I can capture pockets of quietness that feel like this.

The Curious Incident of the Rain in the Nighttime

Last night I was lying in bed too hot to sleep when I suddenly heard the plink-plunk of rain. As I lay there listening to it, I was reminded of many other nights that I have spent in bed listening to rain play music on the metal roof outside the window. Then I started thinking about storms I heard from my bed as a child. I loved being tucked up safe and warm listening to the wind and rain lash our little wooden house. I would imagine I was living on my own in our huge maple tree so that I was fully surrounded by the storm, but protected by the big tree. Last night's rain didn't last long, but it was enough to remind me of the curious timelessness of rain heard in the night. And, it cooled the air down enough that I finally got some sleep.

Homework

For Valentine's Day we saw the marriage counsellor and she assigned us several pieces of homework. They will make the next several days that my husband is in town, and the next two weeks before we see her again, enlightening and hopefully fun. Firstly, we need to catch each other doing the right thing and overtly praise each other. She said this could even get to the point of ridiculousness; the point is to rebuild goodwill. Secondly, we are to watch out for falling into our normal negative interactions and behaviour patterns and record when this happens. Thirdly, when we notice a negative interaction beginning we each need to try to use genuine I-statements to break the cycle. This will likely be easier said than done, but I'm interested to see how it goes. Then, as we were about to leave she said, 'go and have fun this weekend. What do you do for fun?' That simple question revealed that there have developed some gaps in our knowledge of each other's likes and dislikes. For example, when put on the spot, I couldn't confidently name my husband's favourite colour. I know I could at one stage in our relationship, but I've forgotten. So, our last piece of homework, that she added, is to revisit some of those early-relationship questions. I'm really looking forward to getting to know my husband again and I hope he feels the same way. That sounds like a bit of silly wish after such a long time together, but obviously it's become necessary.

The reveal

My husband and I are seeing a relationship counsellor to try to salvage our marriage and get it back on track. Tonight, after seeing us individually, she will share the thoughts and feelings that simmer behind our negative interactions. Once in the open, we can start to overcome our uncommunicative behaviour patterns, I guess. I'm feeling a mix of curiosity and nervousness about the process. I was interested to learn in my session with her yesterday that I feel stifled and voiceless when an issue arises which my husband disagrees with (or that I think he will). I wonder how he's feeling during our conflicts and when I shut down and walk away. I am ready, now though, to claim my voice and be who I know I am, but even so there's a little voice in the back of my mind warning me: 'what if I hurt his feelings with something I say...' and 'what if I say something dumb/illogical that can be ridiculed...'. I'll have to risk that, and the gain to myself and our relationship will be worth it.

Being in today

Today has a feeling of rightness about it. It feels like the first day in weeks that I'm not sick or recovering, although I'm not quite 100% (I can't explain that contradiction). I conquered several anxieties this morning by being mindful and brave: I sent a flash fiction story to a publisher and called a job prospect. Then, this afternoon I went for a long walk, the most exercise I've done in weeks (aside from the sad attempt at tennis my husband and I engaged in on the weekend). My walk felt like what I was meant to be doing. Nothing momentous happened on the walk, I didn't have any epiphanies, but it was healthy and mindful. So I am trying to gently hold to this feeling of me being as I should be.

One ear is never enough

I was going to come on here and lament my continuing difficulty of recovering from the ear infection. This time the frustration of having only one really working ear. In the last two days, since I've started venturing out again on foot (no driving for me yet) I've felt like I've been walking on an angle and it's disconcerting not to have surround sound when crossing the road. Then last night I was noticing how difficult it is to have a conversation with someone when I'm not sitting near them, looking at them. That will make this weekend with my husband at home one of many repeated sentences, I fear. But I realise I shouldn't be whinging (I said months ago I wouldn't do that here). I should be glad I still have one working ear! Also I have the hope, still, that this will clear up and not prove permanent.

Hot and sweaty

I'm not really a fan of sweat, but in the last twenty-four hours I've thought of a redeeming quality of sweat. It makes things more intense, passionate and... legitimate, somehow. Let me demonstrate: If you're playing sport of on a cold day so that pushing yourself to do that extra rep or hit those last two tennis balls doesn't leave you sweaty, then it doesn't feel like quite as effective a workout. Or, it's summer right now so our bedroom was hot last night when we went to bed, which pleasantly added to the sweatiness of things, without a lot of added effort (which I still don't have the energy for yet). And, when you're making Ikea furniture, just screwing the legs on a table is not the same as working up a sweat trying to attach the farfuloonga to the versnook while someone else hold up the kerploot, if you know what I mean. With sweat you feel like you've done a real DIY job. That being said, my hot walk to Coles to get groceries just now was not any more rewarding because of the sweat, so alas it doesn't work for everything.

Unexpectedness

Tonight I am grateful for two things that happened that were completely unexpected. Firstly, I got five hours of sleep overnight, then another one and a half hours after breakfast this morning. The difference in my mood, energy level and overall outlook, compared to three hours of sleep, is enormous. Secondly, I went out for dinner with friends to a renowned local dumpling place. I expected to have a rice dish while the others enjoyed dumplings because of my wheat allergy. As it turned out, the restaurant had gluten free dumplings marked on their menu so I was able to gorge on the little pockets of tastiness as well. This has been the best day I've had in a week and a half; things are looking up!

Vampires

I always sort of admired vampires for their insomnia. I figure they must get so much done! No wonder they all speak many languages, have acquired artistic skills in painting or music and have amassed great wealth; what else would you do with your time while everyone else was sleeping? (Other than suck blood, obviously.) Well, I'm beginning to feel a bit like a vampire. The medication I'm on is causing me insomnia - at best I sleep from about midnight to 3am, that's it. After several nights, I'm feeling like a bit of a soulless monster for the parts of the day when lack of sleep catches up on me. And, at night I'm getting lots of reading, some writing, knitting and other pursuits accomplished at an amazing rate. I'm so tired, though, that I can't appreciate it. No wonder vampires are pale, vicious, unpredictable and often miserable-looking. I am too.

Writing is like knitting

I know other blogs have covered this topic, but here's my take on it. I got thinking about the comparison since recently taking up knitting after a year or two off to focus on writing and getting through my day job in the classroom. Now with a week or so of recuperation time on my hands, it seemed like a good time to pick up the needles again. So I was noticing that when I start a new piece of knitting, as with writing a story, I have a vague idea of its shape, where it might go, but that's about all. I don't know how it's going to turn out until I actually get to the end. I often have to stop and restart a few times to get the look and feel right. Plus, with both activities there's always the need to find the extra motivation at the end to go back and weave in all the loose threads so it doesn't look scruffy even though all you want to do is bask the feeling of accomplishment from having actually completed something that looks vaguely like a scarf or story.
(P.S. If you're interested in those other blogs, ask and I can point you to them; I just shut all the tabs before capturing the addresses, sorry - it is midnight.)

The best things...

'The best things in life are free' is an old cliché, but this morning its truth rings especially true for me.

Things that are free (or virtually) that I am greatly appreciative of right now:

• lying in a warm bed with a cat sleeping on my feet and lightly snoring husband beside me
• fresh toast with melting butter in a dark kitchen
• sitting in the sun (later)

Things that I will appreciate soon when I'm a little more recovered:

• cooking a homemade meal and savouring it slowly
• getting lost in a book (or movie) for hours at a time
• sleeping all the way through the night in a comfortable position
• driving out to the mountains and going for a long solitary walk

Let's make this a little interactive. What would you add to the list? 

Fresh hell

(This post was drafted on Jan. 30th or 31st, but I was too sick to post it until now.)

'Oh, what fresh hell is this?' (or some variation thereof) ~ Dorothy Parker

I have learned, from having this blasted inner ear infection, how to do several new things. Or, more precisely, do old things in a new way. For example, I've learned to brush my teeth with my right (non-dominant) hand, take a shower sitting down and sleep sitting up. That last one I haven't fully mastered, and probably never will. I also managed to eat soup with my right hand because of an IV attached to my left. I have spent more hours over the last week sitting doing nothing, but without being bored, than I thought humanly possible; this gives me fresh insight into meditation practices. So, as a positive takeaway from this illness I would recommend trying to do something mundane with your opposite hand or much slower than you usually do it; it will make you notice and appreciate the activity more (and you may find the result funny or messy).

Cosmological cliché

(This was drafted on Jan. 28th, but I was too sick to post it until now.)

I've been sick for the last few days: vertigo to the point where I can hardly move, nausea and ear ringing. At one stage when I was bemoaning the unfairness of it all, I started thinking that maybe it happened on a sunny, long weekend for a reason. Maybe I got sick to remind me of something: perhaps not to take a healthy body for granted; or that I can't always be a self-sufficient, independent woman just because I want to be; that it's nice to be looked after by your husband sometimes; or maybe even to remind my husband it feels good to be needed; or to show him what it's like to entertain himself for a weekend. Then it occurred to me that it's a bit far fetched for the huge, swirly cosmological consciousness (or coincidence) to reach down and anoint my puny human ear with infinitesimal microbes for some grander purpose. Probably life's just unfair, ear infections suck and 'it happens for a reason' is something we puny humans tell ourselves to feel better about it all.