I have just come back from a walk in the local park. The sun was out, the trees were turning gold and red, people were relaxed and happy. It was good for me too. I feel more balanced.
This week something of a pattern is been established. On Monday morning, after the night's Interferon injection, I feel tired yet still capable of activity. In the afternoon I am worn out. Tuesday appears to be my worst day. I have no energy to do anything. Wednesday energies return enabling me to cope with some activity. Thursday I have more energy again.
Having said all this, the dominating factor all the time is an organic disinterest in doing anything. This is not laziness, or procrastination; both of which I am familiar. We live in a world where "doing" is valued above everything. Idleness is abhorred. For days I have had to lay here listening to my ego chastising me. Sure I know I'm on treatment and i can easily justify the situation, but something in me fears indulging the process.
On Tuesday, laying in bed, in half dreams feeling my life had been put on hold somehow, it occurred me that there were other ways to live a life than always running forward, always doing. What about just "being"? The benefit, and curse, of "doing" is that it helps you hide from yourself. This process puts you into a very intimate relationship with yourself. When you spend days doing nothing there is nowhere to hide.
This is the reason I have become tired of myself. The thought of writing about things after it being so viscerally experienced is unappealing. I am really no longer that interested in myself. There was a time when I was obsessed in knowing all about my "self". I spent thirty years in spiritual self examination trying to become something I was not. Now, I simply wish to be what I am. I'm no angel, I'm no devil, I'm just me and that will have to be good enough for the world because its good enough for me.
I did not expect this treatment to bring back this uncommfortable psychological landscape. But it appears that when the body has little energy at its disposal it will put what remains into being rather than doing every time. So I may not build any bridges over the next year, or invent a carbon-free form of transport but I will observe this wonderful world. Why that should be important? I have no idea, I only sense it is.
Today in the park I found myself in tears on a number of occasions as the poignancy of this world hit me. There was the smile of a young boy as he ran up to his dad. He was in love and in awe of his father. His father's response was so slight, just a half smile of pleasure, but behind it there was so much pride in his son. Such simple movements, such profound meanings. I was listening to my ipod and Johnny Cash came on. A track made near the end of his life. His voice was shot to hell; notes are missed and the voice breaks. Even so, it is sublime. Its the voice of a man who has lived a life and you can hear it in every shaky note. Put it together with a sunny autumn day and you have tears in the park.