Time flies when you’re having fun. It also flies when you get older. I’m ever optimistic that the two will marry at some point. Sometimes they do, because let’s face it, the older you get the more you know about what makes you happy, and the more you can give yourself permission to seek it out.
But these last few weeks haven’t been much fun. Mind you, come to think of it time hasn’t really been flying much either and it’s not because I found the magic eternal youth formula. I got sick is all, and that’s one thing that seems to slow time down until it’s a tortured funeral march written by a dirgy composer.
At first I resisted like crazy. I’m not sick, it’s just a bit of a sore throat; I don’t have a temperature it’s just hot today; I don’t feel weak I just didn’t have a big breakfast. But within days my bit of a sore throat was razor wire, my chest was filled with liquid, I had a raging fever and I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker just lying on my back. Quite scary, actually. For the first time in my life I had a sense of what it must feel like to have your life slipping away.
I hate being sick, it terrifies me. The world becomes an alien place and feels very unsafe. It passes by, unseeing, uncaring, going about its business as if I didn’t exist. I lost touch with everybody, even friends I know in cyberspace because I just couldn’t sit up – and even if I could, my brain was virtually inert.
The sense of being disconnected was absolutely awful. I had quite a powerful emotional throw-back to when I was a child. I’d often be alone in my room, or alone somewhere, where I could either see or hear others having fun and laughing, playing. Adults and children alike. I wondered what it was like to be part of that, but somehow I never found myself there. I lived in a lonely place a lot of the time.
Well when you’re lying in bed feeling miserable, looking back isn’t such a bad thing, because it made me realize things will never be like that again because the child who had no self esteem has grown into a woman with a sense of herself. What an amazing feeling of freedom and lightness of being it gave me. Just looking on that triumph alone made life feel like the most extraordinary gift. My father used to joke that the best part about suffering was how good you feel when it’s over. Amen to that, Dad!
So the days and nights passed in a blur as my body wrestled with the virus, and my mind relinquished the fight and travelled into the past, floated back to the present and let got of the world and the passage of time. The worst part of it lasted for about a week, which felt like three months. And as I’ve emerged, still a bit shaky and a whole lot thinner, I feel as if I’ve been away from life for months.
The world looks different. I have a renewed sense of how precious life is. I’m especially aware of how lucky I am to have my health, which generally is pretty good. It feels like a miracle to me. I wake up in the morning and I’m able to get out of bed, make my own breakfast. That brings such a smile to my face!
But even though my strength is returning, I feel quite pastoral in spirit and pretty reluctant to enter into the mad fray of busy life. It looks awfully energy intensive, and not always a whole lot of fun. Maybe I’ve just got used to time passing slowly.