Writing the unexpected flower on the full moon day...

Flower
A fern hanging basket used to be in the plant pot until a man asked for it and took it home. He likes plants and planting so it was good that he took it.

I thought the pot was empty until I noticed that another fern was growing in between a kind of plant which I thought was one of the palm seeds which might have landed from the old palm tree.

 I noticed the flower where I never expected the flower to be at a time when I am thinking about dealing with the unexpectedness of the virus and of waiting for elections results

And I realise there are one or two other flowers popping up. Paying more attention around as it is easy to miss these things when thinking of the unseen unexpected virus, and the expectation of a dysfucnction

Easy to miss these things as the mind starts to shut down and dark clouds gather and make seeing light more difficult. But not impossible


Shutdown, moving

I stare at the 7 pages of notes from the conversation with the amazing woman . I have to summarise her wisdom, her attention to detail, her experience vast like the savannahs where she likes to work. But I start typing, and I can't find the words, weave the words which will then have to be woven later into a larger piece of work.

I feel ashamed of the inability. I feel ashamed that I am not working, being productive. That I am not using the opportunity available. The shame and anger at the shame all help to shutdown the mind.

There is movement though, a stirring to say, wait, wait.. this is only for now, like everything else. You have been here before, you will come through again. You can shelve the work, postpone and delay.

Full moon
I check the calendar. It is full moon. Me and the full moon. Sometimes the full moon bring dark clouds and refreshing rain. And sometimes those dark clouds cloud my mind and even though there is no scientific evidence to connect me to the moon at this time, I feel like I understand and I relax a bit.

Forgiving myself for the inability to do the things I want to do.



Forgiveness after hitting send
I hear the voice of the beloved, see the face. Remembering the late night phone conversations. I know, social distancing long before social distancing was a thing. I know, I should not contact, I should not reach out. But the clouds are heavy and my fingers move on the keyboard and I type the email I should not be typing and I hit send.  I had done well, previously, when no contact was requested, I stayed out of contact.

I kick myself, not again. I forgive myself . It is okay, you are not indulging in the cravings. You have eaten a half ripe mango from the tree with the not so nice mangoes.. you cut it up nicely and rub cinammon and peanut butter on it because you had the crunchies. And you did not go and buy packs of crunchy junk. So yeah, some cravings.. forgive yourself.


Movement
And I know I have to breathe. I have to get up and move. I go to do the yoga routine, the one which used to be done in 30 minutes.. intensely. Body is not bending, and will is not there.. but I go slowly. And t I get through 30% of the exercise, because I keep pausing to shift clouds, to breathe, in 45 minutes. And I think no, no , it is not 30% of what you used to do or would like to do, it is 100% more than what you nearly did. Or did not do.

Waiting
And so I cannot write the notes or the narrative, I cannot think of how to write the narrative. I think to write the flower though, because this writing is like breathing. Writing this flower, is like exhaling slowly. I have no control over the elections or the virus. Right now I feel I have no control over how I respond to the elections or the virus or to the failed love or to the failed exercise routine.

I have control though over how I could wait for when the moon will change its phase and I will keep looking for the unexpected goodness around me