As always I enjoy your writing but today's hit me harder, so sorry those nasty memories come to the forefront but thankful you had some other, lovely ones.
You're in my thoughts for quiet awhile after I finish reading your posts. Thank you for that gift dear sir.
How terrible to have both the fear and frustration about language, and at the same time the memory of your mother's appalling abuse. Those messages of shame are so hard to manage, decades later. But you've also given us one of your observant, lyrical accounts of ordinary life. Thank you.
Empathising with your struggles here dear Paul, but what I take away from this is that by expressing what’s going on for you, the weird states you find yourself in, you are still very much in control of your material with this writing.Sorry that dark awful stuff from your past is surfacing but hoping that the loving stuff you and Alison share is compensating. As you know we have our neurological challenges in this house and we recognise just a little of what is happening for you. Thinking of you. ❤️
This is you at your very best: capturing the heady mixture of having so much knowledge and experience in your brain but not always being able to retrieve it or make sense of it… – all the time relating to the formative experiences that filled this memory up as you grew (some of which sound so torturous and cruel that my saying I am sorry you suffered so much – and suffer now – makes not one positive dent in its awfulness; even congratulating you for rendering it so vividly feels so very wrong…).
I cannot diagnose the cause: but I know that a lack of oxygen to my brain while my body magically rebooted itself after a cardiac arrest – but without getting as far as consciousness for some days… – left me with gaps and broken connections that occasionally repair themselves; more frequently shatter as I try to reach for them… – and that this sounds extremely similar. Feels extremely similar, too. You almost make it flesh.
That you build carefully to a physical and mental place of happiness and calm is so beautiful, so clever; and a reward that I feel you so utterly deserve. But, unfortunately, it does not remove the awful foundations of the past such wonder is built upon, nor your current struggles to remain upright… – although, for me, these amplify the goodness, the love, the happiness, the beauty you attain.
This is you at your very best: and I am so grateful and pleased that your powers – however much a struggle they can be to conjure – are still intact, albeit at a further stretch; that, like Prospero, you are still in charge of them:
“All thy vexations
Were by my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test. Here, afore heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift.”
PS: I would have put this in a letter, but wanted my reaction to be as instant as possible. I hope it all makes sense! Good luck to you, Alison, and the dogs, too!
Thank you Stephen for your insightful kind words. It could be said I have stood the test. I'm reading Dante's Divine Comedy at present and life feels a little like reaching the top of Purgatory with Beatrice waiting to lead me to Paradise.
When I am tempted to think that modern life is rubbish, I remember horrors like these (which no doubt do still occur today) were considered acceptable by far more people then than would be the case now.
As always I enjoy your writing but today's hit me harder, so sorry those nasty memories come to the forefront but thankful you had some other, lovely ones.
You're in my thoughts for quiet awhile after I finish reading your posts. Thank you for that gift dear sir.
One day, adventure at a time Paul. So what if you forget, it just means you can live through life a new.
As long as the lights are turned on to see the day a head.. keep walking down that road mate 👍
Beautiful. Also egg and chips!
Oh yes.
This is extraordinary writing, Paul. Thank you for continuing to share such a gift with us.
Thank you Jo. Hope you are enjoying the sun
Wow. Just wow. So immediate, visceral and evocative. ❤️
Visceral is such a good descriptive.
How terrible to have both the fear and frustration about language, and at the same time the memory of your mother's appalling abuse. Those messages of shame are so hard to manage, decades later. But you've also given us one of your observant, lyrical accounts of ordinary life. Thank you.
Empathising with your struggles here dear Paul, but what I take away from this is that by expressing what’s going on for you, the weird states you find yourself in, you are still very much in control of your material with this writing.Sorry that dark awful stuff from your past is surfacing but hoping that the loving stuff you and Alison share is compensating. As you know we have our neurological challenges in this house and we recognise just a little of what is happening for you. Thinking of you. ❤️
Thank you Ruth
Thank you, Paul. These pieces, and your bearing witness, are valuable.
Thank you Melissa. Good to know.
🫂🫂🫂
Thank you Janey
An old friend, a retired chaplain used to say 'there are no words - so here I am, not saying them'
I have quoted him countless times 🙂
Lovely
This is you at your very best: capturing the heady mixture of having so much knowledge and experience in your brain but not always being able to retrieve it or make sense of it… – all the time relating to the formative experiences that filled this memory up as you grew (some of which sound so torturous and cruel that my saying I am sorry you suffered so much – and suffer now – makes not one positive dent in its awfulness; even congratulating you for rendering it so vividly feels so very wrong…).
I cannot diagnose the cause: but I know that a lack of oxygen to my brain while my body magically rebooted itself after a cardiac arrest – but without getting as far as consciousness for some days… – left me with gaps and broken connections that occasionally repair themselves; more frequently shatter as I try to reach for them… – and that this sounds extremely similar. Feels extremely similar, too. You almost make it flesh.
That you build carefully to a physical and mental place of happiness and calm is so beautiful, so clever; and a reward that I feel you so utterly deserve. But, unfortunately, it does not remove the awful foundations of the past such wonder is built upon, nor your current struggles to remain upright… – although, for me, these amplify the goodness, the love, the happiness, the beauty you attain.
This is you at your very best: and I am so grateful and pleased that your powers – however much a struggle they can be to conjure – are still intact, albeit at a further stretch; that, like Prospero, you are still in charge of them:
“All thy vexations
Were by my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test. Here, afore heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift.”
PS: I would have put this in a letter, but wanted my reaction to be as instant as possible. I hope it all makes sense! Good luck to you, Alison, and the dogs, too!
Thank you Stephen for your insightful kind words. It could be said I have stood the test. I'm reading Dante's Divine Comedy at present and life feels a little like reaching the top of Purgatory with Beatrice waiting to lead me to Paradise.
Paul that memory of your mum is shocking. I’m so sorry that you experienced that.
Thank you Margaret. Larkin was half right. I'm just sceptical that mum didn't mean to.
When I am tempted to think that modern life is rubbish, I remember horrors like these (which no doubt do still occur today) were considered acceptable by far more people then than would be the case now.
We rarely see what happens behind drawn curtains and closed doors.