So now the birds sing in the morning and some are gathering twigs to build their nests. Poor things — gales are forecast and, although the sun may shine occasionally, there is a chill wind.
Rather like life once you get to that age when the government decides to give you a free TV licence! For sure, whatever we plan, circumstances usually dictate otherwise.
Do we sit back and take what comes, or force the pace to make the most of time left to us on earth?
Writing is getting me nowhere. What’s more it is getting to be a somewhat lonesome occupation. Any writing I do I want it to be for the joy of doing it, otherwise why bother?
I guess teaching kids to read was the most fulfilling.
Does everyone get restless when friends and family are dying off at a faster rate? When physical problems stop you doing most of the things you once enjoyed? When tiredness wears you down and you no longer have a social life?
It does not have to be this way, but sitting at the computer has not helped.
No doubt, my mood will swing in another direction in a few days.
Ah, such is life.
And it is good to hear the birds sing in the quiet of the morning.
About Me
- Gladys Hobson
- Everything about my early life can be found in my illustrated book of childhood memories: When Phones Were Immobile and Lived in RED BOXES. Read the first two chapters at: www.magpiesnestpublishing.co.uk I also have my novels and anthologies on that site. I trained as a dress designer. Later turned to teaching. Took early retirement to train for church ministry. For the last eight years a full time writer. Personal experiences and settings tend to pop up in my stories! All my academic qualifications have been achieved in my middle and later years — as happened with most working-class achievers of my generation. I try to keep a sense of humour in all aspects of life. I can laugh at myself and at oldie jokes. But I wish the media would put less emphasis on faculties lost in old age (cause for laughter) and more on the wisdom gained. We old biddies do know a thing or two!
1 comment:
You have my empathy Gladys as you go through a difficult patch emotionally with writing and life, aging in particular. That is quite an arresting statement/question: ‘…or force the pace to make the most of time left to us on earth?’
Writing has many reasons for its indulgence, but chief among them is the desire, is it not?, that others will invest their time to read what we have written, and become in someway emotionally involved with our thought. So, if one person only does this, it succeeds there; if a million, well, then we’re soaring. But financial success in writing is almost as rare as hen’s teeth, especially with novel writing, on a percentage of the whole writer base analysis.
As happiness comes from the inner world, it compels us to use some of our time cultivating and landscaping that inner world. And if we can do this whilst serving our fellow travellers in various ways – not being hermits – then we achieve a win-win outcome. And there are a million ways to serve our fellows, from simply being a good listener at times, to writing something entertaining or uplifting for a lone traveller to catch on a blog for example, to actually nurturing thoughts of caring, on to more hands on activity, if desire, health, station, and circumstances allow. And you know all this better than I do.
And at risk of being considered more of a lunatic than is already the case, let me say that the angels greatly enjoy, and are inspired by, our better efforts at art, humour, and exposition, so there is no such thing as an unnoticed worthy effort.
Hang in there Gladys!
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