Its quiet here tonight and I am now in Mourning. I did a few powerful things today. I rang the Road Traffic Association and found that the Kombi was already transferred to the Girls. I got my electricity payments in order and I had the sense to ring LH in Yamba regarding Centrelink. She handled it all smoothly for me and in minutes. Address changed. Super declared. I think taxes are next and the girls have the papers so I shall just call ATO and ask advice.
Today, Neilo came and attended to the lawns and yard and my Girl came and attended to the inside of the Shack. She has a flair for it and a good eye and a ruthless streak which I need as far as getting rid of excess. Plenty of laughter and chatting and working today. It makes such a difference.
I have slept well for 3 nights now. Like a normal sleep. The weather is grey and damp but warm. I am still keeping a very low profile and not mixing much with anyone.
Tonight my rooms are clean and free from dust and mess. I feel lighter and fresher. That is one day done. Subtle but big improvements. The depths of change within me are profound even if as yet unseen.
People are dropping off. I guess that makes sense. I am in a world that is not as it was for me and I no longer quite fit in the world of the people I was with before. I am quite unwilling to attempt to re-enter it if it means pretzelling myself into a former shape which I could not possibly hold any longer.
Other sick people can handle me, like B and J next door. And the people in hospital.
Some people just fit. Like My Girls.
Eveningtime now. Blogging time. Smiling time. Just a slight song inside and a slight dance in my steps. For tonight.
BEING NUDGED GENTLY TOWARDS MY TRUE WAY
I might take another look at Van Badham’s eulogy for Izzy and see what wisdom is accessible to me at this time.
FROM VAN BADHAM Van Badham I wrote the following for his life companion, Lynne: Lynne, amidst heartbreak, be consoled that the man who was your beloved companion was no ordinary man. He was a leader, a fighter, a guru, a comrade, a friend. He was a man of independent thought and resolute moral principle. He was an artist, a maker and creator and a bard in the truest sense. Meeting Izzy as an 18 year old was the encounter that inspired the directions I took in my own life – artistic and political. He proved to me in his example that those who are as selfless as they are motivated have the power to open minds and effect change. He had the rare quality of the true champion – to understand the indivisibility of leadership and teamwork. He was good. He was kind. He shared what he learned with uninhibited generosity, he told a cracking story and he was always prepared to take the piss out of himself. He spoke truth to power. And he loved you, truly. He leaves love and good example behind him as he embarks on his next journey, and so he endures. I am thinking of how he used to treat his terrible migraines by trapping his head in a wire hanger.
And it makes me think what I should have realised before hearing this today: that he appeared in my life as some kind of sage, or wizard – a Gandalf or Merlin – grey-bearded, wise to the world, stepping out from the edge of a grey forest at a crossroads, and, smiling, nudging me gently towards my true way.