Resolve

Cracks the door

Peers round the edge

nose follows eyes, mouth follows nose.

‘Hello?’

‘I, er, am I okay to… Its just….’

It’s just I’ve been away a while. I’ve been away a while and I’m not sure if it’s ok if I….

Enters, but leaves the door ajar at her back

I’ve been away, and it’s not been by choice. Not really. It’s been a sojourn mandated by pain, and the pain has not yet resolved. But I have. As the weather turns, and the children return to school, as the evenings grow shorter, and longer, losing in light and stretching in containment, I have resolved that certain things won’t do. It won’t do, for example, that the house has grown gradually more cobwebbed, more grimed in the corners, more dusty where perhaps it does matter. It won’t do that I never stretch, because why stretch what doesn’t hurt when you can’t stretch what does. And it won’t do that joint pain means I can’t write how I like to write, and so I don’t write at all.

And so I am resolved that what won’t do must no longer do. And yet I leave the door ajar. This is important, as we must all face the sad reality of life that sometimes what won’t do must do after all. But this is no reason not to try, and so here I am, microphone on, dictation software making its own “creative suggestions”, stumbling over words that would flow from my fingers easily and wondering whether I will ever learn. We like to think we are adaptable, no? I for one, have shown myself to be inconsistently so. Televisual streaming came so easily, but using my telephone to make payments in actual shops appears to be a leap too far. Also, in the finest tradition of human motivation, I have accidentally paid for it, and so I really ought to get some use.

So, back on vocal. What’s new? For me, a lot. This, is my deal with myself. I am allowed to dictate, and only dictate. If it’s not flowing verbally, then I’m going to need to walk on by. And no overindulging either. Gluttony is not my friend here. Nine months after I stopped writing, the improvements in my pain are only marginal and I don’t want to dash hopes for the future, particularly as it is now rare that pain keeps me awake all night. Maybe they are less marginal than I thought. Secondly, I am not going to be pulling my weight. My previous engagement with this platform was incredibly enriching. I finally found the motivation for a consistent writing practice, and felt I was improving. Alongside that, I held a steadfast belief in reciprocation and for me reciprocation extended beyond a paired exchange and into a willingness to create space and platform for other voices by reading, commenting, and promoting. Now, scrolling hurts, typing hurts, simply holding the phone on which I read most of my vocal articles hurts. And so my definition of reciprocity must narrow. Probably to a tit-for-tat closed circle which was what I tried to push back against in the past.

That said, another reason vocal was so enriching for me was that I felt I built a reciprocal relationship with a number of creators, creators who I have thought about over the past nine months, wondered about, missed their voices, held in mind. And I come, cap in hand, hoping to be allowed back into the circle, even whilst painfully aware that I may not be able to stay.

And you see this ragged break between paragraphs? This is why I may not be able to stay. I think what I have loved about writing is that flow state we enter, where we leave the complexities of our real lives bubbling on the side and enter a mental space in which we are able to manipulate and master the rivulets of thoughts and feelings that pass through us, recognising that they pass through us rather than define us and that we can direct them, shepherd them with our choice of words, and choose where they flow. This, it transpires, is not something which I do verbally. That and the constant instructions to correct I must offer make this process a whole heap less satisfying than it once was. But again, I believe it is time for me to try. Despite my fear that I have lost all progress, despite my fear that any skill I had with my fingers cannot be replicated with my voice, despite my fear that I will have to give up again, and that might feel even worse the second time. At least I can blame any nonsensical typing errors on the software.

Let’s see how I do.