Wednesday, January 29, 2020


I am composed of two halves; one that exists mostly in my head, that absorbs bad and depressing news, and analyzes Twitter links to newspaper stories compulsively, and stews about the awfulness of Our President (how it makes me flinch to have to call him that), the impeachment trial, whether Bolton will testify, and worries about whether I have any friends, and whether I'm a good mother, or a good partner/girlfriend, and donates a few dollars to help fight wildfires (as if that would help with the widespread devastation and those poor little burned koalas), and feels such despair when I see three dead deer in a row on the side of the road, hit by cars.

And another that absorbs the beauty of the world through my pores. Another that is open and alive and invigorated by this cold, stark beauty.  I'm at the kitchen table with a cold face, rosy cheeks, a bowl of mandarin oranges, some tea, and I've just witnessed the sun rise over a cloudless pale blue sky, streaked with pink, the naked trees silhouetted against it, and the birds singing euphorically. There is one field, a huge one - the Jane Austen field - which looks down over a perfect red brick Regency house and its accompanying hamlet, and beyond, to the West Berkshire downs, dotted with sheep. The ground was crisp with hoar frost, but springy, and the dogs ran about gleefully, and I thought, this isn't new. I've known about this since I was a child. I thought it was a secret, this needed to be reconnected with the earth, this perfect fibonacci sequence of interlocking bits which perfectly link to the next and come back to the first. The other is you. Yes. And everything is connected. Yes. And every day is an ephiphany and the birds sing to praise the new day. New bits of hope form overnight; a new snowdrop, some catkins, a budding branch. After the dead, unmoving, still Winter, there are signs of Spring.

Listen, I'd read this and roll my eyes too. I sound so damn smug! But I wanted to record it. I wanted to remind myself the importance of getting out in it early, of believing that an optimistic view of the world will actual enhance creativity and productivity.

Believe me, like you, I struggle every day with this stuff. It's a choice. You have choose to swat the negativity away...they're just annoying little flies. And everyone suffers from impostor syndrome. Everyone. You have to believe in yourself and move forward, one foot at a time, trying to make the right decisions, in the most thoughtful and rigorous way that you are able. That's all you can do. Inform yourself, look at everything that is presented, and trust in yourself to do the right thing.


cheri said...

So, so correct, you hit the head on the nail. I'm working on my positive half today.
Thank you for these bits that you put out for us to read. Carry on......

Miss Whistle said...

Thank you Cheri! I am grateful that other people can relate to this. I feel a little nuts saying it! xo

Speranza said...

I find it really fascinating that women are so much better at noticing, appreciating and marking the so-called "smaller things" in life than men are. And,in my experience, some men are mocking about this ability.Apparently it is more important to be "right" - life is terrible, people are violent - than attempting to be kind, make a difference however small and attempt to be happy. BOSH, I say - and I applaud you for everything you say here, yet again! Also, my new pup ("Stanley") is a Border Terrier - and a ray of sunshine every day!
Here's what I was thinking last February, interestingly: