Not bending with the wind.

SATURDAY

I long  for  the vista of a seascape ...a counter point to the narrow lanes of my green wooded valley... and escape to Sidmouth. 

Even though it's extra busy with a Classic Car Show I'm determined to catch the last day of this sun and warmth which we have been warned by the weather pundits will be summer's swan song. 

I can't  do any gardening but I can walk ...slowly...with the pebbles skittering away under my feet, the wind blowing salty air into my soul.

 On the promenade a woman with a friendly, sunburned lined face stops me and says she likes my small, canvas rucksack...where did I get it? I have to disappoint her.

I bought it in Portugal when I was visiting with friends last May. It has become my walking rucksack.  Her interest makes me love it even more. 

SUNDAY

 In the morning I walk under humid grey skies. 

Then,  I start making a chocolate hazelnut cake to take for tea at my sister's.

No warning  - I'm not stretching or twisting or reaching - suddenly I feel a click click click in my lower back - my whole pelvic girdle seizes up with pain.

I lie on the hall carpet to get relief...but instead I'm gripped with a terror ...that I won't be able to get up....that I won't be able to do my life if I can't stand...walk...lift ...carry ...bend ...stretch.

I cry for a long time ...lying on the carpet....asking for help.

And  of course it comes. 

 I can get up ....I can walk even with  pain.. and I ring a friend for advice.

 And then my sister. 

She arrives later with DVDs and Almond Bailey's. We eat the  sticky wheat free, dairy free  hazelnut chocolate cake and watch things that make us laugh on Iplayer.

And my pain eases along with my terror. 

TODAY

The most painful thing is pulling on my walking boots and bending to tie the laces. But as I walk ...slowly.... up hill...carefully ....along the brambly footpath and down into the village the pain becomes part of me...it accompanies me....and  all the time I 'm wondering what I need to address in my life...what it is telling me.

This deflated black ballon floats ahead of me and settles into the branches of a beech tree along the roadside.

The blackberries are beginning to go mouldy

on their prickly stems...

so I join this small snail and

feast on the best ones for my breakfast.....

my fingers quickly becoming stained bruised purple with their sweet running juice.

A necklace of red berries - not sure what they are.

I find it hard to get comfortable all day...sitting at my desk ... or on the sofa with hot water bottles  or lying on my back...on my front... on the bed. I take paracetamol and do things which don't require me to bend. Like my tax return.

It's the bending which hurts the most.

  And then it clicks in my head. I haven't been stopped in my tracks  - I can still walk and stand and sit and even carry light things. But I can't bend forward.   Not without exacerbating the inflammation.

So maybe it's my mindset that the pain is asking me to look at.

 The not very flexible part of me...the part that wants to be in control at all costs. The part that says it has to be this way or that way and nothing else will do. The unreasonable part that is rooted in an old belief that it's the only way for me to be safe.

The part that doesn't trust going with the flow...bending with the wind...letting go.

So maybe now's the time.

And there is probably another layer below that one...fear...anger....terror of being alone.

But in the meantime,

I have an appointment with a lovely chiropractor/ body worker on Wednesday.