ON HAVING AN UNSTABLE CONNECTION
This morning a chorus of herring gulls and a crescent moon in a pale blue sky. And the air is simply cold.
Alt text tells me this week’s photo is a stuffed animal in the air. I say it is Ronnie jumping for joy at Weedon Bec. Although this is an older photo, we were there at the weekend for a celebration of yarn at a Riverknits event. Stollen and Wolle is the name of the event, and it features both those things (cake and wool) and also has lovely live music towards the end which gives a wonderful uplifting feel to the closing of the show and our subsequent journey home.
This week my internet became unstable. No great drama you might think, but this is me and I was at an event where I was reading! It has taken me some time to develop my reading confidence, and to have the right kind of self-talk when things seem to be going wrong.
And now I take a bow because I did not panic! Not only that, I also did not panic in the moments before this when my wife inadvertently switched the internet off at the start of the meeting and I was no longer even in the zoom room. It definitely felt weird to be staring at a screen and realising that despite not physically going anywhere I was no longer present. Like a kind of out of body experience in a dreamlike waiting room that didn’t even exist.
There is a past version of me that would have wanted to give up at either or both of these points. But the voice that used to be quick to notice a problem or want to point a finger of shame now offers solutions. It says this happens to other people too, it tells me there are ways forward, reminds me it’s not a deal breaker. And before I take all the credit for cracking on I must admit that I was very glad and grateful when my wife came in asked me if I wanted to hot spot to my phone and handed me a phone charger. Left to my own devices I would have waited for the main internet to reboot because I knew I only had a small amount of charge on my phone. And I am not very good at waiting when I want something to be resolved.
Seeing the message flash up about an unstable connection when I was back in the room had me inwardly chuckling at the thought of having to put my camera off to preserve the stability of the connection. How many times in the past had I felt the need to channel my inner strength to be camera on and resist the temptation to keep wondering whether I was coming across as acceptable? It suddenly felt very good to not want to be camera off!
It was a good week for poetry... I loved being invited to read at Stephen Paul Wren’s Blood Women book launch, I enjoyed a whole day of editing and drafting some work, and when I landed in my chair after the journey back from the yarn show I found a lovely acceptance in my inbox.
Here’s to zoom rooms, to words and to the people who invite us to share time and space.
This poem, about finding your voice, received a recent dusting off so I shall include it here:
She leaves voices in boxes for me;
some are easy to find,
some a game of hide and seek
that has me wanting to give in.
I have never seen her in full daylight,
but I know she stoops
to get through doorways.
I feel her watching from corners –
ahead of me,
behind me,
shadowing.
She shows me how
she seals the boxes:
tape, rope, padlocks.
Then hides them under her cloak.
When I wake
I think I’ve glimpsed her face –
fox fur,
the beak of a crow,
a skull beneath.
There is something familiar
in her eyes.
Comments
Post a Comment