I’ve had this blog post brewing in the back of my mind for the last week or so. Every time I have sat down to type or thought about it I’ve been hit by overwhelming tiredness, distractions of the internet and the hole of planning we need to do for our epic road trip this summer. Turns out life on the open road is less about romantic getting out there and more about spreadsheets and figuring out where would be a good place to stop every few days to make sure we can see some cool stuff and have enough of that outdoors fun we crave. (well it is with kids and a prohibition on wild camping in most of the UK) It’s about looking at amazing places to stay only to discover that they are booked already because the rest of the country is well aware it will be August and have planned way earlier than us. Except Northumberland. Northumberland we salute you.
Argh. I can feel the fog descending again and I am determined to push through. I want to write. Writing is about sitting down and doing it. I was going to put this post in an amusing conversation piece with myself style. That requires more effort than I seem to be able to muster now. Blog posts are amazing in my head as I run and run around this bowl of green. Later once bedtime is done I crumble, crawl into bed and watch endless Parks and Recreation (we are SO late to the party on this one but oh my word. So funny. So much better for our heads than 13 Reasons Why)
It was mental health week last week. I was going to write about my mental health and maybe the mental health of my broken wonderful husbandface. I even went to an evening about it. Share Your Story, where I listened to three different stories of brokenness, pain and some redemption. For me it raised the questions of what on earth is good mental health?, and, Where is the line between helpful diagnosis and unhelpful labels? It was an evening that confirmed how flipping non linear the line to good mental health is. It’s a process which may never end and we really need to think through our perception of what ‘normal’ we are striving to achieve.
Last week was a week that started amazingly as I led some sessions on authenticity at our church’s women’s retreat. I loved the time away. I loved reading huge chunks of Romans 12 and seeing it blow my and others minds. I loved starting the conversation, providing space for people to contemplate life with God again. I loved a room to myself and a whole nights sleep. A whole nights sleep without a small person digging their legs into my spine or squashing my face against theirs. A whole nights sleep. I loved the time to not help out, sounds odd but I loved just existing, not having to clean up small people gunk and not having to constantly think about them. I loved driving back to Brighton and seeing a friend in her first solo show in the festival. I loved laughing, crying and being in awe of her physicality as she took us on a tour through adolescence, swimming the individual medley and life in transition from the UK to Zambia and back again. I loved catching up with old friends of the best kind who are family and see us in need and out of their full on family life poured out love and grace on our weary souls. It was a good start to the week.
Things kind of nosedived from there into it being increasingly clear the husbandface would need to be signed off work again. This week he was the worst I’ve seen for a long time (and he’s been pretty bad for a long long time). We really want to find a better way to live for long term recovery to be possible. He’s off work thankfully and we wait and see for how long. We are aching to find a better rhythm for life that enables us to live, eat and love. Mental health is important and delicate and good mental health, which I think looks different from person to person, is worth finding. We are on the search for it.
Coherent thoughts are unbelievably hard to put together right now. I’m exhausted. I’m hopeful. I’m desperate for escape. I love our rooted house and community. I’m in despair. I’m full of faith. I have no idea what faith looks like in this landscape. I want to write about God and what on earth I think about that right now. I have no words. I have no words. I have no words.
Turns out staring at campsites on the internet is slightly more easy than this writing malarky. I think I need another cup of tea.
Maybe I should return to writing more and posting a little bit of writing each day. Maybe. Anything to kick start this muse again, anything to better help me process life and faith in this somewhat barren world we meander through at the moment. Anyway, as you were. Maybe go put the kettle on eh.