Focus to Blur.
Just appears in a short period of events. The norm nowadays at early waking from a fitful night is to find sanctuary in past photograph images. In the Jetpack App Media are thousands of photographs. Years of blogging subject imagery. What it does, upon scrolling down and tapping a fair few limited viewing thumbnail sized photos to enlarge and study with reflection of what once was, is to give comfort. Comfort in the knowledge that life has had very many interesting inclusions. Even spending time collecting for cigar box inclusions from To Kill a Mockingbird. An intended birthday gift for someone.
This year’s start was one bathed in illness. A continuation from start of December last year. It has been a bit of a ‘remember you’re older now in life’ mind changer in a fair few ways. It becomes impactful when you find yourself struggling with inherent invasion from viruses, exhaustion, confusion and general apathy. Catching Covid a few years ago had the same result. The inherent virus knocks you down to the floor and one’s human spirit is smashed for months on end. Possibly, on reflection, for years. General feelings of being no longer as robust in holistic terms plays on the mind in a sinister manner. Vulnerability is something alien to an ever active mind. It goes against the grain. And it goes without saying that it is obviously an unwelcome guest. Becoming a recluse, introvert in nature and hiding away is akin to holing up and licking one’s wounds. Yes, you go on little holiday break excursions. But it’s going through the motions. Home truly becomes the place in where the heart is.
Last night it was an act of going through the motions. Turned on the GarageBand set up. Chose a drum track from the library offerings. Extended it to a one minute loop. Put my Bass guitar into the audio interface and just started playing different twelve bar blues riffs over and over. Almost Mantra like. Didn’t record it initially. Too many bum notes and mistakes. No focus at all. Eventually pushing ‘record’, the simplest notes played of an A to D to E sequence was captured. Then. Picked up a six string electric guitar, didn’t tune it exactly at all and played a terrible chord sequence over bass and drums. Then picked up on a fair few keyboard choices and just chose random sounds and played very simple melodies. Added quirky inclusions by hitting little percussion rhythm sound choices on single keyboard pads. Focus, again, went out the window. Apathy? Not really. Just seeing where the simple notes went with each other. I know it could have a simple separate melody on vocal or an instrument to lift it completely. But somehow the mind remained dull to tuneful exploration. Going through the motions, yet with no intent or purpose. Strangely it was cathartic. A nod to being non committal in seeking something new. It can wait for another day. At least music was present, albeit naive. I love hearing Jonny Mozza’s philosophical views on his YouTube channel. Just play and record your music however it sounds.
Exhaustion is a very real situation after a flu virus hits the system. It eats into intent. Into plans. Into the vibrancy of what life can offer. Read a book for all of 5 minutes. Keep the Frankie Fella cat entertained for half an hour periods by just going through the ‘toy mouse on the end of a piece of cotton game’ motions. Tap on the iPad to read nonsense in FB social media. Delete hundreds of unwanted emails over and over. Delete web internet history from sites you can’t ever remember visiting at all. Make endless hot drinks and sit drinking them whilst staring into space. Watch daytime rubbish TV programmes. Think of what the doctor wants to tell you is wrong with your recent blood results. ‘Not urgent’ says the receptionist. ‘He says it can wait a week for the appointment’. But it still niggles the mind. Like schooldays. ‘See me after the lesson’ said at start of lesson is a cruel teacher’s psychological ploy. ‘What about sir?’ No answer….just ignored.
Talking with patients who had caught pneumonia, advice given was always ‘Be prepared to feel absolutely floored for a fair few weeks. Even months. Patience and rest is required to heal. Don’t push yourself unnecessarily’. Recovery, recuperation and rehabilitation were the framed utterances out of my nurse mouth. I knew those three simple ideals were never ever that simple. When someone has acquired an illness or disease that alters their self perception significantly, they are far more vulnerable than what we witness of their perceived biological recovery.
Illness is never truly treated with that reality when it’s your own. You just keep going. Catching the debilitating flu is bad enough. Subsequent viral or bacterial infection in the lungs is an added whammy. But you tell yourself ‘Okay, now at the tail end of all symptoms, a brighter outlook has to be in the Summers’ psyche’. But the currently aching body says ‘What was, and still is, all that/this about?’ It’s not hypochondria. It’s knowing you’ve been truly harmed. With a second time virus visit too.
The below literature paper is a really interesting link in regarding recovery from illness. Reading it with an ex nurse’s mind, it was basically what was similarly read a fair few years back when I was in the nurse role. The thought of overcoming the biological injuries, but still feeling mentally that you are no longer as once was, is interesting. Maybe today’s virus impact is so invasive we are not getting back to the same degree of soundness.
Gray Summers 