I’ve been struck down with a horrible chest infection which has left me incapacitated. My work doesn’t understand being sick. They see it as a sign of weakness. When you’re sick you’re sick.
Coughing my lungs up and producing strange green and red jelly substances has led me down a path of self-contemplation. It’s been a while since I just lay and dreamed.
We honestly don’t have enough time to just stare out the window. We rush from one human undertaking to the next. Even our down time has to be slotted in to fit the ideal.
Always comparing and contrasting our lives to stay one step ahead from unemployment, prison or death.
Apparently someone said that suffering brings us closer to the divine. I tend to agree. It’s only through times of suffering that we are removed from the daily routine; it forces us to that place of contemplation. Even through sickness we can enlighten the soul.
I’ve felt so rotten that I couldn’t even watch TV never mind read, so I’ve had a couple of days to just let my mind dip in and out of the waters. I’ve let it float and meander and it’s come back refreshed from it’s sojourn.
I’ve missed my mum. I’ve dreamed about my past, memories I had forgotten. Our lives are built from memories. The older we get the more we have to remember. Sometimes we need some time out to wander the cities of our experiences and take stock of what really truly matters.
This life for me is about my experience, the animals, the smell of perfumes, the smiles of friends, the loss, emotions of failures, realisations of stark truths.
It’s all just wonderful and if I were to die this very moment I’d be happy to go for it’s all just a waking dream we all share and I love it very much. Everything and everyone will always meet again for we are all connected in the fabric of life.