Disappearing Plans

Plans used to be the air to my lungs and running their addiction.

I was forever accountable to a spread sheet, one travelled in my handbag along with my little black book noting every training run, every race, every time and another was stuck to a wardrobe, answering any question my husband had as to my whereabouts over the coming months.

A spread sheet still hangs on the back of my wardrobe like a gravestone and my little black book is now filled with doctors’ appointments and my daily symptoms. As for the plans, they are probably partying with my past somewhere, if you find them, let me know.

Each day is now spent focusing on the second in front of me, there is no energy to think ahead and some days there is little energy to focus on that one second. I am now in the hands of myalgic encephalomyelitis and she reminds me constantly of the little control I have on my own life.

She dictates if today is going to be a good day or a bad day, she decides when I have stepped outside my safety zone and she smiles at me from every angle of my couch, forever there as filthy air.

All I can do is play nice, respect her and be smart. Since arriving on my couch she has slowed me down, my brain has slowed, my feet have slowed, my arms have slowed and my reaction time has slowed, but in slowing me down she has opened my eyes. My house is now a home, once it was just a base camp from where I came and went; now it is my sanctuary, a home for my husband and I, our haven.

At present a recession is in full swing, homeowners clutching to their slates, banks breathing down drain pipes and beyond our world lies another, people in war torn countries, children vying for a future, refugee tents acting as homes, starvation rife, hope diminishing with every day.

As is often said to me “there are always those worse off” but honestly, there are, we should stop and think of those during our day, be grateful for what we have and never take a moment for granted.

War Torn by Marie H Curran

Day by day they shrink
Faces sunken ships.
Their radars searching tents.
Climbing over bodies

Between the coloured flags
Calling out for voices
Pleading bones for help.
Among the dirt and stones

Echoes back a verse
Better off you are
Away from blasts of hell,
Lucky say the wise. This camp

A welcome home.
Digging in the sand
Between the flies and ants
Hollowed gums and eyes

Wilt beneath a blaze.
Scorching is their skin
As is their need for help,
Shrivelling in a heap

Their empty hearts give in,
While world and rest of us
forever living on.

http://www.mariehcurran.com

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2 thoughts on “Disappearing Plans

  1. Another really beautiful, thoughtful, and thought-provoking post. If our horizon is restricted to the second in which we live rather than the second ahead we live.

    Keep writing!

    (Please)

    1. Thanks! It really is amazing what can be seen in any given moment, we had the super moon to enjoy last weekend and this week neptune is in our skies. Not to mention the rest of nature pulsating, this week I witnessed five hares in “mating mode”, there were boxing matches, pinned ears, the works and all were viewed from my couch!!!

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