I have been a bit of an odd bird in my thinking about time lately.
Yes, I understand it is loopy and more jazz than Bach; a message heard loud and clear while sitting on the Pyramids in Cairo in 1992.
So maybe a birthday is a good moment to not resist the spiral nature. I am calling on you, fifty-two…
It is forever humbling to live in Provence. These old stones have seen the like of a me before, no matter how unique I might believe myself to be (and I do).
We talk and walk, our drinking thinking feeling human-ness. We love and fall but rise trying.
“Try to reflect today,” a friend said. So I did but I am not really sure if I am younger or older than the breath before.
Honestly, I have never felt that I was terribly good at being an adult.
As proof, four weeks ago, I flew over the handlebars of my bicycle after a simple second of not paying attention to the car too close, my linen pant wrapped around the pedal tight.
My wrist is broken and it is the right wrong one.
So far, my cast has not begun to itch but my head has.
With all of these summer hours laid out before me, inactive but pulsing, I wonder.
Although I am ashamed to admit it, it can happen that I miss the ease of my old life, exacerbated by the stunning knowledge of how few people there are, now, to stand by my side when in need.
I scratch in wondering if this is what everyone feels, not only just me.
And yet, upon awakening on August 11th, there were lovely messages that said “we are glad that you are here.”
It warmed my blood and after coffee I thought that perhaps the not knowing that has been running the show for us since 2020 could be put aside for awhile.
Happiness was to be had.
And so I went to eat at my friend Coco’s restaurant. She wrote on my cast without asking.
I saw art that not only surprised me but delighted as well.
Tears fell that were purely of the happy variety. For this heart that holds so much.
The freesias and roses given perfume my apartment as the late afternoon light pours in, insisting.
And yet, feeling held, I can say clearly that I dearly hope for change in my daily life, which is not the stuff of Provençal dreams as often as may seem.
I wonder if this broken wrist was in some way no accident at all but a slide back to the Pyramids. A not gentle form of asking, “Really Heather, what could be next?”
What an odd bingo we play.
Listen, listen. I know these words are sparse but how long it takes to type them with my left hand.
So much so that maybe they are evaporating before your eyes.
Back to the beginning then. Back to the began.
As always, thank you for being here.
With love from Provence,
Heather
Hello there dear Heather,
what a huge undertaking and you’ve accomplished it. Which just goes to show you/us: giving up never leads to much…
I hope that your broken wrist continues to heal well. Once the cast comes off the physical therapy and exercises begin. I recommend Weleda Lavender oil for massages later. The essential oils help the nerve endings.
Best regards from Bavaria, Germany
Loving your birthday post, as well as the new website – hooray! I was informed that you would be treated as a queen on your birthday; you deserve nothing less. I wish I was there to draw on your cast, or I wish you were here in your time of recuperation. Sending love and big congratulations on your website!
You mention you have never felt that you were good at being an adult, Heather. I often think I don’t know how to live as an “older” person; at least older in society’s eyes. Still working to figure that out. Hearing about your mom gives me hope!
Beautiful words, Heather. I’m reading off my mobile, so I can’t comment on the overall layout, but the site is easy to navigate from my phone (yay!), and I am so glad you did not chose to go with the new fashion of a gray font. And fabulous that all your old blog posts transferred over!
Thank you my lovely friend. Honestly, the hardest part was having the courage. I backed up my blog on my computer then saved it to my hard drive. Once that was done, I followed sites to get a discount on bluehost and went from there. As you know, i am so not a tech person, so am still figuring it out but there are a ton of tutorials to help. Like me, you have been blogging since the old days so it could be great to get your archives to your own site. xo
But are we old? My “older” friends say no! 62 or 52…if are lucky, we have so much more to live…my Mom was so happily married at 65…
Could it be more appropriate that it is you to leave the first comment? No, of course not. Love you.
How lovely, Heather. So happy for you. How did you manage to transfer all your old blog posts over? I gave my blog a facelift at the beginning of the year but I checked out from trying to transfer it to a .com, even though my latest blog is not that old.
Anyway, I look forward to more of your thoughts and adventures in Arles and beyond.
We almost share a birthday. I just turned 62. I can’t believe that I’m this old but here we are. And it’s OK. Loving your new site. Take care.
Congratulations! A new beginning built on a solid foundation. “And what will Heather do next?” I wonder. Gros Bisous!