Today, a feeling of being enclosed within some kind of envelope left me. I have spoken once or twice about being in a period of ‘respite’ – a blessed time before the axe falls and I’m taken to my destiny. Whatever was I talking about? It is true that I initially felt liberated by my decision to forgo chemo, which will not cure the cancer, but to rely on the local palliative care team. As a consequence I have been able to write, think and meditate each day. But more recently I noticed that the freedom of that wasn’t there any more. Instead, I felt a bit stuck in a bubble where the options are pretty limited – only so much energy, so much interest, so much inspiration – plus the same poised axe sensation.
But you know, it is just my view of it. I have a view that it is like so, and I simply think that’s how it is and that’s a convenient way of shelving the issue.
I have an interest in bubbles because (and I have written about it more than once) I have seen a huge blown detergent bubble fade right back to its lattice structure before going dark and then imploding in on itself. Quite a sight it was, and also a considerable, even scary reflection on the nature of our assumptions, which are as fragile and lacking in actual substance.
Anyway, half written. Come back for the rest later!