I’ve been struggling to put into words how I am feeling. Me, struggling with words. Me, who is often described to others as a wordsmith. Me, who is seldom at a loss for words and never for long.
I trawled my archive of poems and found nothing. I had a little rummage in the mindbox where I store half completed poems. Nothing. I wanted to add a photo but it seems almost impossible to add them right now.
I’m feeling frozen inside, numb, without feeling. All my responses are slowed down. It’s taken me two days to wrap, pack and send the presents for friends and family outside the UK. There were only four. I’m trying to get ready for this seasonal event that comes every year and yet I am never ready for. I collected together all my Christmas and Solstice related music CDs and started playing them as I was getting on with the chores.
One of my favourites of all time for this time of year is Maddy Prior and The Carnival Band’s Gold Frankincense and Myrrh, which has some real earthy and hipshivering stuff you could bellydance too. I found myself dancing. Now in some this is normal response to music. In me, it’s highly unusual and rather worrying behaviour and nor did it proceed out of joy. The dog got anxious as I pranced around the living room, bubble wrap in hand. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on in me and I was far from happy about it. Imagine the scenario of the Red Shoes…
One of the songs is a real belter about the Queen of Sheba. I wish I were a clever bugger like J and could work out how to put a music link on here. I was washing up by this stage, and waiting for the washing machine to finish so I could hang out the clean clothes. My daughter came down and I said, rather to her surprise “I wish I could have met the Queen of Sheba” but then that’s a fairly normal thing compared with some fo the things I say. And then, though she didn’t see, I burst into tears because….well, I don’t know why. Because I will never meet the Queen of Sheba? I don’t know. Probably not.
The music I was playing is very lively, very sensual and emotive music, with intelligent and thoughtful lyrics and it was singing up a storm in me that I just couldn’t deal with. The chaos of emotions got channelled into a familar path, that of pain and longing and disappointment, and I lost the joy and the freedom that the music held. If I go now and play it again, the same will happen. I’ll get swept along for a short time with the buoyant wave of feeling before the dark comes to claim me again. I don’t know how to do it differently.
I changed the CD after that and put on some classical flute music recorded by a very talented friend of mine but while beautiful, the music was cold and silvery, like icicles chiming as the winter wind blows them. It calmed me enough to compose myself and put aside the inner chaos. I can’t afford to let myself be swept away. I have things I must do and to break down now would be stupid.
But one day I want to sing up the storm myself and ride it out, like hitching a lift on a hurricane and see where it drops me.
I’d be willing to bet it won’t be Kansas anymore, Toto.