Engaging (positively) with Personal Space

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Since I hit my 70’s (five years ago) I sometimes find myself wondering … why bother? Living alone, even with the support of a few good friends, can often seem a heavy-going, lonely battle to rise above health issues and other slings and arrows of daily life.

My mother died in 1976. We were very close, and her spirit remains as much a part of me as it ever was. I am especially grateful for having inherited her positive approach to life,being able to put any negative thoughts on hold, close my eyes and wish myself back to better times, let them comfort, reassure, inspire me to understanding full well that nature intends that we live and die  so it’s up to us to make the most, each in his or her own way, of what lies in-between. 

Instead of brooding on woes, better by far (surely?) to count our blessings in the shape of those family and friends we have known and loved, any places we may have visited that are as flowers on the evergreen Banks of Memory whose perfume we have but to inhale to be transported away from whatever moment of contemporary crisis may have struck ... temporarily perhaps, but long enough to rise above its worse moments, pause the downward spiral into despair, self-pity, whatever … and rise above it all, slowly but surely emerging from the experience better equipped not only to start looking on the bright side of life again, but actively participate in it. 

I am so grateful to my mother for her philosophical approach to general well-being that has helped me through some of the worst periods of my life, never more so than now as we all struggle with multiple consequences of the coronavirus pandemic.

Did I say it was easy …?

ENGAGING (POSITIVELY) WITH PERSONAL SPACE 

There is a place I go

known only to me, where time,

no longer counting

along lines of arithmetic

or measure of its pace,

takes me beyond known parameters

shows me who I am

There is a place I go

whenever thought cannot reason

nor sensibility rely

on some abstract morality

to come to the rescue

if only to attempt justifying whatever,

or pointing a finger

There is a place I go

where bigotry on grounds of gender,

race, sexuality, creed

(and, yes, age too) but voices

falling on cloth ears

flagging up referrals for creative therapy

(hope springs eternal)

There is a place I go

where I am free to think just about me,

well-meaning advice

(from any perspective but mine)

given short shrift

by an alter ego weary of always being lost

in translation by ‘betters’

There is a place I go

where mind, body and spirit take a break

from running rings

around me, engage with each other

and help me connect

with that whole which is the sum of my parts

(amateur self-portrait)

It’s in my personal space

that I consider and reconsider my actions,

hopefully preventing

any future systems failure down

to taking fake news

for gospel and spreading it without due care;

(garbage in, garbage out)

Ah, but personal space

cannot be contained for long in any one

persona, but needs must

journey through time and space;

rites of passage

for artists, historians, anyone with an interest

in fitting jigsaw pieces

Copyright R N. Taber 2020