Pushing Through

It still feels like winter here, but soon the clocks go back, and hellebore and narcissi are pushing through the earth and debris of dead leaves in our neglected garden, so it must be spring.  I don't like transitions very much.  I'm happy to enjoy the fire and a good book and my knitting indoors if it's winter and to be out in the sunshine if it's summer, but this contradictory time leaves me unsure of where to be.   I'm planning to do less work as a dramatherapist, as I move into a new phase, keeping my registration current but not committing myself to weekly sessions with clients.  I'm relieved now that my pricey venture into advertising with Yell failed to generate much business.  I've begun work on some new felting projects out in the washhouse, but it's still too cold most days to be there for long. 

Another visit to my parents' house led to sorting out more of my mother's things.  The golden slippers have been joined in the display cupboard by an evening bag, a Stratton powder compact and my mother's war-time identity bracelet.    I have her sewing machine as well, which reminds me so much of all the clothes she made for herself and the family - party, wedding, ballet dresses, summer shorts, coats and jackets.  I now have her collection of zips, buttons, sewing threads and elastic and have done a bit of sewing, so I keep that tradition going.  Like her, I would rather sew than cook.  If we wanted a party dress for an occasion, we took over domestic duties to let her get on with the project in hand.  I have the luxury of spending a day doing whatever I want, without running a busy family household.


A few weeks back, we saw Derek Jacobi play King Lear in a starkly set, sombre production -  - the old man dividing his kingdom, testing the loyalty of each of his three daughters.....I have two sisters.  At least our efforts to support our father haven't led to bloodshed.  I found the play more moving than productions I've seen in the past, maybe because of its resonances for me now.  This week I saw Helen Mirren play Prospera in the new film of The Tempest.   A wonderful role model for older women, she was a compelling master of the island, in striking costumes, her hair windswept, her face showing the lines of years of experience and expression.    

This transition I'm going through is partly about ageing - I am now the older generation - in my family, and in the working world.  I'm only too aware of my body's limitations, my struggle at times to find the energy to get going but also glad I have no real external pressures on me, just my own (my mother's?) inner voice telling me I should be 'doing something useful', not sitting about reading, knitting and watching daytime television!

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