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Thursday, 18 October 2012

it got me thinking

have you ever felt as if you are walking backwards, uphill, through treacle, pulling a buggy containing two children and a pack on your back with everything you need for you and them for at least one day, if not the whole month?

sometimes life can be hard. there are always periods that hit you harder than others. jane refers to them as seasons. i like that. the idea that they should last no longer than three months.

this season has been long (longer than three months) and harder over the last couple of weeks. the kind of hard that is perceived as never catching a break. now, don't get me wrong, there are people who have it a lot harder than i, in fact i can think of two right now. but sometimes when reserves are low, tiredness creeps in and everything is magnified. it's true what they say; sometimes things really do feel worse in the dark.

yesterday was a busy and long day. i was told on more than one occasion that i looked tired. last night my smile and pithy response thinly veiled my annoyance at what i thought was stating the obvious and not at all helpful. after a nights sleep i realised it was people genuinely showing care and concern for me and how could i have thought as i did?

it got me thinking. 

what else have i missed over the last two weeks? what else have i glossed over whilst caught up in the worry of my own troubles?

i recalled;

the evening i turned up at my sisters house at my nephews bath time. at the shout of "auntie emma" i popped my head round the bathroom door; two enormous toothy (and not so toothy) smiles excitedly greeted me. i saw and felt the love for me.

a work email sent routinely chasing daily business matters. a divergence in conversation complementing my words enabled me to let go of my fear and share this on-line space with my acquaintance. i was bowled over by how my thoughts, expressions and photographs in the land we call blog had touched them, caused them to re-asses what they were doing, resolving to take that well deserved days holiday, it was, after all, their birthday. i experienced overwhelming encouragement.

the night i sat amid tears and finally let go of my worry and asked for help. realising that my independent streak is not always as good a streak as i perceive it to be. i was met with a listening ear, reassurance that they knew how i felt, honest advice and a hug i wanted to melt into and stay there. i was met with kindness, acceptance. of me.

the smile raised as my seven year old niece asked "how old do you have to be to go on telly?" her six year old sister followed the enquiry with "when you are on a tv show do you live in the telly?" i was reminded of the innocence of children, their lack of fear of asking questions. reminding me to stay inquisitive.

jane sharing the post she wrote last week on letting go on the blog that inspired her and i to realise what we were holding onto. i found the blog through a friends activity on facebook (thank you helen). when jane's post was shared there (producing in a spike in our views from the usa) i logged on to like the page. an email of thanks to me for liking, resulting in an email of thanks from me for writing. actions that encouraged us both. i was reminded how a simple act of interaction can cause a chain reaction.

last night i went to choir practice. for the first time we tackled singing in the rain. realising the song is sung as a solo by gene kelly in the film none of us knew the harmony. our pianist patiently drills the part on the piano and sings along with us. did i mention i was tired? this morning, still in the fog of exhaustion, i remember the harmony, well, most of it along with the timing. i am glad i laughed and let go of the tiredness to embrace the moment. i am rewarded by realising that being the sum of the parts can be just as rewarding, if not more so, than standing alone.  

what did i miss?  that if we let go and are willing to be open to new experiences, work hard when required, be willing to be taught by and to teach others, then maybe, just maybe the backpack we all carry will feel lighter.

tonight i am sat home alone. heating on full blast, i am fully clothed with added jumper and socks under a blanket at my computer. i am shivering but my cheeks and forehead are hot. i know that all i need is an early night and a lot of fluids. but tonight i am grateful that despite a temperature and advancing headache all feels better this evening. i don't have to wait for the morning. the darkness holds no fear tonight.



  1. Emma, this is such a lovely post. Really a list of thanks. And isn't it true that when we begin to see life through the lens of gratitude it changes our perspective. Your words are living proof of just that. Thank you so much for sharing your link with me, I hope you'll come over to the blog and add it in the comments again so people can find you. It's been lovely chatting with you on Facebook and hope you'll continue to interact. Pray you feel better soon. Fondly,

  2. Emma,came here from Shelly's blog...I truly enjoyed reading your lovely words here! Love your expressions from the very opening about walking through treacle, your word pictures about your nephews calling to give love to "auntie Emma" (oh, don't children always lift us out of the doldrums?)and the reference to living inside the telly brought a fond memory of my cousins and how they used to think that too when we were all young! I'm glad to see how God is lifting you out of weariness and pray his total healing restoration from any flu or cold! I thank Him for healing us,"with healing in his wings..."

    Oh...and love your reference to "Singing in the Rain," too. I had the fun of seeing that old film in huge screen format at a movie theater this summer (the way it was originally formatted) and have always loved that song. Even being tired, I can see how it would lift you up! Your post lifted me today...

  3. Well, here I am, another Redemption's Beauty reader and commenter, finding your blog via Shelly's. I love the interconnectedness of blogging, blending voices and perspectives the world over at the push of a button, at the tip of our fingers! Amazing! ....as were your words. May you receive yet another compliment on your lovely post! I love all things British, so admittedly, this was initially a draw. You have such a beautiful country, and I hope to visit here yet again (we've been there three times). But as I read on, what drew me in was your transparency and vulnerability, your authenticity and willinginess to reach out (whilst! simultaneously letting go)....and your appreciation of life's joys--the innocence and humor of children, the lilt of an uplifting song. You know, Emma, as you bundle up under a blanket to brave autumn's dropping temperature and your rising one, I would beg to differ that you are alone. You don't have to wait till morning to see hearts and hands joining you across the miles, to see that someone is helping you hoist that backpack. You can let go, and know that others will hold it up or empty it out--whichever is needed most. I think we're all in this life together, and that's something to cling to. Thank you for hosting your American friends, and I surely pray you feel better soon!
    Blessings, Lynn