Penne for your thoughts
Where Emma considers her shrinking universe
Welcome my lovelies. As ever, thank you for the messages of support, camaraderie and hilarious stories of your own teenage trials!
Well, dear readers, I have to admit that I sat down to write this letter with an empty head. Nada, nowt, not a dicky bird. Cue existential crisis.
Have I said all I need to? Is there anything left? Am I spent as a writer? Do I still have Parkinson’s if I can’t write about it?
Worry not this letter will still go ahead. And yes, I still have Parky.
It turns out I was prevaricating. For someone who is writing a memoir, I am profoundly uncomfortable talking, sharing or writing anything personal. I know, I want to slap me too. The truth is I can easily write about Parkinson’s, motherhood, travel, and experiences. But when it comes to family, ex-husband, mental health - I can be reticent in the extreme. I still can’t quite get comfortable in my skin.
I suspect the deepest purpose of a memoir is to expand our universe. To encompass the forgotten moments, embrace new perspectives, forgive ourselves and others. Or more likely, that’s the effect it is having on me.
And it is ‘A Good Thing’ because my universe has been shrinking.
I want to blame it on Parkinson’s. After all, isn’t everything about Mr P? Or perhaps I could use the pandemic as an excuse. Or maybe our esteemed leaders, or the size of curly wurly’s, or social media, or the bins emptied once a fortnight? Won’t someone give me something to blame??!
I’ve become complacent. I’m quite boring. I’ve become a No-ser. Noto this, no to that, oh hell no to pretty much anything, even good stuff. (hashtag:NotProud)
I think I have the life yips.
It comes down to love. The love I want to receive and the love I want to give. The universe cannot share its love with me if I am unloving. I allow the trauma I carry to keep me hard, spikey edged and closed off. Peeling back the trauma, emotions, thoughts, people, and events will help me receive the love I crave.
I shut down an attempt by someone to contact me this week. I shut it down hard. Erasing myself from their awareness, quite literally I disappeared. Something I am very adept at, I have had a lot of practice. And whilst I hold that I have no desire to have anything to do with this person. I must acknowledge that I still need to examine the event.
To be open, interesting and loving I need to push myself away from the fear of exposure. I need to learn about asking for the things, people and experiences I want. Only then will my universe expand.
What kind of love do you want more of in your life?