Stagnation

I tried to work it out as I walked, stiff-legged and slow, what the all the water in my knees might be about, symbolically. Have I become too rigid in my ways, do I no longer see a wider view, other alternatives, have I become stuck, am I stagnating? Is that what it is, stagnation? And if so what can I do about it? I want to be healed, to have some marvellous seer or prophet come to me and place their hands on me and heal. Do I ask too much? Let it be so. I will walk free then, I will climb stairs, I will run, I will bend over double. All will be fluid. All will be lithe. I will be return to my physical self. Can I ask this? With all that the world holds, with all that the world battles with, can I ask this small thing?

More peeing has to be done, into phials and bottles. More water. Water everywhere. Outside the rain pours down. Wild. He is out there in his waterproof trousers.

My first interview today. I am nervous. It is still not set in my mind, my approach. I want to leave a door open to see, to see what they bring. I am so blessed with this opportunity, such richness coming to my door, my studio. I am humbled, as always.

I miss my writing, my sewing, my work when outside demands come in. But it is good. I am earning from this precious space. A little but something. And a royalty payment came in yesterday. That’s nice.

He was a small weight. A moving weight. A solid littleness, fragile of rib and head. Not yet able to support himself. He pulled on the teat, there is power there. I am humbled again. Not joy but peace. There was peace in holding him. He settled me.

The rain abates for a moment. Breathe. All will become clear. It will. I promise.