(This is a mirror site of my webpage karenjcarlisle.com)

Saturday, July 20, 2013


I am trying to find patience and peace this week.

I am waiting. I am waiting for my muscles and tendons to heal, following my fall on Sunday night. I had a therapeutic massage today and am feeling a lot more relaxed. I can feel the improvement in the muscle tension I have been feeling all week. I was b#@*dy lucky that I did not damage my hip joint, nor fall directly on my coccyx and either bruise it or cause a slipped or bulging disc. Thank the Lord! So now I wait for everything to heal so I can feel human again.

I am waiting. I am waiting for word on a friend. News I really don’t want to hear but we all know is inevitable. I am waiting so that finally I let myself go and cry buckets. All I can try to do is be supportive. The emotional tension is building and I have not been the most patient of people, this week. I apologise to my family here, in public. I am sorry.

I am waiting. I am waiting for the weather to dip out of the severe weather warning range.  The winds have caused trees and branches to fall on the road (and in some unlucky cases – cars). Some areas have has hail and (I believe) sleet. Yes, I do love the cold weather but I cannot do the necessary preparation work in the garden, so I may have a chance at planting some fruit trees this winter. The ground is currently too wet. Not that I can do it with my shoulder, back and hip injuries right now. So I wait for drier weather and my body to behave.

I am waiting. I am waiting for my alternative-ego-part-time-work anxiety to subside so I can work my full days again. This has been a slow process. I am told that this is ‘normal’ and I am doing ‘very well’. There are still places I cannot return to, for fear of … well, fear itself really.  Enough said on this matter. So, I wait.

What I am not waiting for this week, are words. With so much going on, I have a lot of emotions, ideas and issues colliding in my brain. While the words may not be the most eloquent, nor the easiest to write, I write. It is carthartic. Sometimes I think it keeps me sane. So while I wait for the rest of my world to sort itself out, I will continue scribbling…

and wait.


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