The Impatient Rester

The exertion of moving house and all the work it has entailed has knocked me for six; it is the worst ME crash in years and my word how impatient I am to be back on my feet!  I am so bored of resting, of aching with tiredness and having to say "no" to things I really want to do.  Days seem to float past, each one much alike and it is hard to keep from getting depressed by the situation.  Now I do know that compared to many people I am incredibly lucky to be able to so much, but somehow that is never enough is it?  I want to be getting stuck into church things, helping out, inviting people over, going places, exploring, making, gardening.  The gap between what I can do and what I want to do is vast, a canyon, so if I say, "yes" to something or suggest doing something, then have to pull out, that is why.  In terms of energy my eyes are bigger than my energy reserves.

I am trying to stay positive, to take each day as it comes, be grateful for what I have, for the peace and chance to recover, but I am human and do not find it easy.  Maybe my calling right now is just to be?

A new arrival is helping make this time of resting bearable, I have adopted a small black cat named Willow from a local shelter.  She is about six, affectionate, determined, funny, sweet and loving.  There is nothing she likes more than a lap for the afternoon, cuddles by the hour and will sit on me in such a way that I cannot do anything else except sit, which for someone who struggles to rest, is invaluable.  I wish I had had a cat years ago, they offer great companionship.  I look forward to getting up now so I can go downstairs to see her.

Perhaps I should write soon about what I have been knitting while I have been resting?  For now it is time to head back to the sofa.

New Year's Resolutions?

At the end of my last post I wrote that I would be back with some goals or aims for the new year; however, when I came to think about it being a New Year (the words seem capitalised in my head) and thinking about what I wanted to achieve in those 12 months I ended up overwhelmed.  During the closing month or so of last year I had many ideas about how the New Year was going to be, changing my life, being bolder, doing various things better, the usual sorts of things.  Then the New Year came, in its usual underwhelming style and over the first few days of the year I have felt a sense of disappointment, that things are not immediately better, that I am still making some of the same mistakes and failing in some of the same areas as before, that each day feels the same as it did last year.

My expectations both of myself and of an arbitrary division in the calendar were vastly over-inflated.  Surely I should have remembered how overwhelming it is to look at something as big as a whole year in one piece?  And I had also failed to remember that my body has not magically got better overnight, the succession of headaches that has marred the first week of the year should be a sharp reminder.

So instead I am rethinking the goals and aims and what I want to achieve and breaking things down into smaller, more manageable chunks.  Overall this year I want to live more boldly and be more prepared to try new things and take risks, albeit carefully calculated risks.  But I do need to start where I am, more rest needs to be on the agenda and my first big goal is finishing my dad's jumper, which is becoming something of a struggle due to lack of motivation.  Fellow knitters will understand when I say that I am on the sleeves, often a dispiriting section of a jumper.

On I go, step by step, taking the year day by day, with my usual slow dance of two steps forward, one step back, trying to keep trying and not get discouraged.  After all an arbitrary change of date is not enough, on its own, to change life.

2013 - some best bits

A challenge to myself and to my usually gloomy outlook: to find and write about some best bits or favourite things from the past year.

Knitting
I think the project of the year has to be Dad's Fair Isle jumper, I'm just coming to the end of the first sleeve, so it will not be finished this year, but it is the knitting I am most proud of.  The Jamieson Spindrift I am knitting the jumper in is undoubtedly my favourite yarn find of the year, I never thought I would be saying how soft Shetland yarn is but it has really grown on me.



Additionally I am pleased I managed to get my Pomme de Pin cardigan finished, it was another epic knit, but one I wear a lot, very snug and soft and warm despite its light lacy fabric.



Cooking
The recipe of the year has to be the apple and fruit cake I made for Dad's birthday, it was so, so moist and so simple and clever.  Again it was a recipe from Aunt Daisy dating back to the late 1940s; her books contain a rich seam of recipes to continue trying.  As a recipe it suited my energy levels and needing to pace myself because I could make the apple purée one day and the cake the next, a good while ahead of the party itself so that the cake could mature.  No need like a sponge to cook it that day or at most the day before.

Here is the recipe as it appears in the book, I baked it in a 23cm round tin, the cups are English although it would probably work in American cups and just be a slightly larger cake.  A moderate oven is around 180C though I may have used a slightly lower temperature as our oven can be a bit fierce.  It came out perfectly flat on top without so much as a dip.  When you first bake the cake it does look a bit dry and uninspiring, hold your nerve, wrap it up and pop it into a tin for at least two weeks and your patience will be rewarded.

Apple fruit cake – delicious
Do not cut this cake for a fortnight. Have ready 1 ½ cups stewed apple, sweetened with ½ cup sugar and with 1 tablespoon butter melted into it. Mix together 1 cup brown sugar, 1 tablespoon cocoa; 1 dessertspoon spice; ½ teaspoon baking soda; 2 large cups flour; lemon peel and dried fruit to taste (about 1 ½ to 2 cups). Add the apple mixture and a little milk if necessary. Line tin with greased paper. Bake in a moderate oven for about 1 ½ hours.

Music

After much thought I think my album of the year has to be Seven Stars by Chris Haines.  It is a quiet, peaceful album soaked in the Bible and the past of the church.  Of all the songs the one that I love the most is "Strangers", about our true home, it is a peaceful, hopeful song that helps to put all the worries of today into perspective, speaking of the "colours undiscovered", the "sweet aromas" of heaven and how we will be home soon.  Throughout the year this song has helped me in times of despair or panic to find my bearings again and remember that this life is not forever, that a better life is forever.  You can listen to the album here on bandcamp and read the lyrics here.

Rend Collective Experiment's album Campfire has probably been my other album of the year, full of life and energy.  I am so looking forward to their new album.

My garden find of the year: Southover Grange in Lewes

Books

Elizabeth Jane Howard was my book find of the year.  Radio 4's dramatisation of her Cazalet novels caught my attention and I started by reading her autobiography, Slipstream, in January; a tremendous work, lively and honest, one of the best autobiographies I have ever read.  After this I moved onto the Cazalet novels themselves and devoured them, I was so completely in their world and found myself, in the intervals of reading the world insists in inserting, wondering what was going to happen, utterly caught up in the lives of the characters.  They are more than the usual "family saga" novels, all the characters are real and engaging, no mean feat in a novel sequence about such a large family and there is a strong sense of place.

My reading has also branched out, inspired by Katherine Swift's Morville Hours, a book about the creation of a garden and so much more besides, don't just take my word for it, go and read it, now, go on!  So I have read more garden and countryside books, ideal if you cannot get out that much, to go to other places in books.  I have read my way through most of the Penguin English Journeys books, particular favourites were the volumes by Gertrude Jekyll and Vita Sackville West on gardening and I plan to read more of both their books in the new year.  Some of Gertrude Jekyll's books are out of copyright and so available on line for free which is particularly handy.  The extracts from James Lees-Milne's diaries were amusing too and he has been added to the ever increasing list of books to read, along with more of Elizabeth Taylor's novels.

Tomorrow I shall do some thinking on goals for the coming year as is traditional.

Remembrance

Today is Remembrance Sunday, a day I approach with mixed feelings, as I had more ancestors in the German and Austrian armies than the British in the first world war, my maternal grandparents being of German, Austrian and Czech extraction.  My paternal grandfather's brother fought in and survived the first war and his sisters nursed, but it is still a day that makes me feel my mixed heritage more keenly than normal.  Although it is a day to remember the dead of all nations and of all wars, the first and second world wars do tend to dominate in this country, partly, the cynical historian in me thinks, because we won both wars, but also because Remembrance Sunday was founded in response to the widespread grief following the first war.

However, my ambivalent feelings are increased because Remembrance Sunday seems to be focussed on the soldiers who fell in the wars and of course should be remembered and mourned. But meanwhile the civilians, who also died in great numbers, seem forgotten.  I feel this personally as somewhere in the region of three-quarters of my paternal grandfather's family died or disappeared as civilians, whole families vanishing in their entirety, in the Holocaust during the second world war.


From a synagogue destroyed in Berlin on Kristallnacht Flickr Commons

This year Remembrance Day falls on the 75th anniversary of Kristallnacht when the Nazis attacked Jewish people, homes, businesses and synagogues in Germany and Austria in reprisal for the killing of a German diplomat in Paris by a Jewish youth.  Ninety one people died and 30,000 were sent to concentration camps, but it marked the beginning of the Nazi "final solution".  My grandfather and his mother were lucky, they got out, my grandfather on the last train he could legally have got; his father and most of the rest of his family were less lucky.


My grandfather in his 1935 Czech passport

These events and the sense of loss they created have cast a long shadow across my family.  We need to remember all who have died or suffered loss on all sides, and never to allow remembrance to become glorification of war.  Although on the last point I think this ex-serviceman, writing in the Guardian puts things better than I can.  When I hear the jingoistic writing from the beginning of the first war repeated again and again by politicians, the media, social media, as part of remembrance day I shudder inwardly.  One might as well repeat the last line of Wilfred Owen's Dulce et decorum est and omit the all important context, of "the old lie".

And for the future?  We need to keep talking, keep telling the stories, try to stop ourselves repeating the same mistakes again and again.  We need to make sure our remembrance does not become justification for current or future war and work and pray for peace and reconciliation and healing.

Father forgive us our follies, grant us peace, comfort those who mourn, help us to love mercy and seek justice and walk humbly before you.

I leave you with Michael Tippett's Oratorio A Child of Our Time, which was written in 1939 in response to Kristallnacht.

An Insomniac's Miscellany

Once again I cannot sleep.  No matter how relaxed I try to get before bed as soon as I lie down I get tense and my jaw clenches and the more I lie there, the worse it gets.  So I find it best to get up and potter gently about, listening to quiet music, doing a little simple knitting, reading, anything to try to relax as I sit in the lamp light.  This being unable to sleep has been going on for a few months now and I have reached the point where I am sufficiently fed up that I have made a doctor's appointment, so that is Tuesday's fun outing.

So lack of sleep is making the rest of life harder and I have little to report.  Dad's jumper is coming along nicely and my thoughts are increasingly turning to Christmas, a festival I love.  All those sparkly lights and hope in the darkness and familiar rituals; I love Christmas in all its infinite variety.  Although I do need to get realistic and try to curb my desire to make everything for everyone.


Puddings pre-cooking

A few weeks ago we made two Christmas puddings, as we had got down to only one left in the store cupboard and the puddings really are best matured at least a year.  It was a nice family occasion, my parents and I each took tasks and shared out the work; Dad managed to get himself the job of adding the brandy!  I must try to write down a recipe as my mother pretty much carries it in her head, which would make it tricky if I ever wanted to try making one on my own.  Next on the agenda is an attempt at a Christmas cake, which I have less experience at and past attempts have not always been a great success, however, I have been reading up and gathering tips.  How do you decorate your Christmas cake?  My family are not keen on the traditional marzipan and thick icing so I am looking for ideas.

For now, back to the task of trying to relax enough to sleep.

Crash

Right now I am in the middle of an ME and fibromyalgia crash, caused by trying to do too much and not saying no enough and things just happening that I have had to deal with and not enough sleep over a number of weeks.  It seems a cruel irony that a fatigue causing illness should come with the inability to sleep.

I am trying not to feel sorry for myself, or blame myself too much, although I know that this is what happens if I overdo things; neither am I asking for your pity.  But there might not be much interesting blogging going on for a bit while I regroup and keep practising resting.  I am trying to teach myself to see resting as constructive, not simply wasting time or achieving nothing, this effort is in its early days so far.

For now I shall go back to bed, in between short times knitting, I think having something restful to do is so important with any kind of chronic illness.  It provides something else to think about outside oneself and helps pass the time.  Certainly I have become good at finding low-energy things to do, perhaps one day I shall have to write about it here, when I have rested that is!


A gratuitous picture of some roses because they're beautiful.

God of Contradictions

Something I wrote a week or two ago and have just polished up, mostly by getting the verses into order.  I suppose it is a Psalm?  Nothing on David's level though.

God of Contradictions

The God who made the earth the skies and sea
And allows us to trash them

The God who made man and woman in His own image
And allowed us to sin and break His heart

The God of beauty and perfection
Who allows ugliness and imperfection to reign

The God of justice, friend of the poor,
Who allows injustice and poverty to flourish

The God who is the prince of peace
And yet allows wars and rumours of wars

The God who sent His son
to save us in human form
And allowed us to beat and kill Him

The God who heals,
who makes the lame walk and the blind to see
And allows children to get sick and die

The God who is holy and perfect
And allows sinners to join Him at His table

The God of all joy
Who allows unimaginable sorrow

The God who collects our tears in a jar
And allows us to go on and on filling the jar

The God who hears our prayers
And so often allows silence to answer them

The God who rose again
And allows us to share in His hope

The God of contradictions
whom we so little understand
One day will you allow us to see as you see?
Will you seem so contradictory then?

The God who will soon return
And allows soon to feel like forever

“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”  1 Corinthians 13.12

Facing failure

Some days, some weeks even, I feel like a failure: an utter, miserable, lowest of the low, out and out failure.  Now is one of those times.  Life seems dismal, I feel frustrated by my own ability to make the same mistakes again and again and I feel stuck.  Prayer is hard, a fight and a battle, to focus, to find the words, even sitting quietly before God is a challenge.  I find myself not wanting to pray, which is a feeling I hate.  I hate that I do not want to spend time with God and hate how that must make Him feel.  The world seems like a bleak place and change seems impossible.

I am trying to persevere, as the Bible urges us to again and again, but it feels so hard and yet in saying that I feel like such a wimp.  Surely I knew before I began that following Jesus was hard?  He warns of it, "Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me." (Matthew 10) and "In this world you will have trouble." (John 16).  So why do I moan and whine and protest when things are hard?

I find it so hard to put aside my pride and admit that I cannot do this on my own, to accept my own inadequacy and that ultimately I cannot save myself.  It is at this point that I turn again to Jesus, to the cross, to give in to grace, something so simple, yet so hard.

But I still admit that I cannot yet rejoice in trials and sufferings, although I can overall see the good that has been coming out of the hard times.  Sometimes the hard times are when I am closest to God, but the hardest hard times are when I find it hard to approach God and when my sense of failure becomes overwhelming.

Father help me to persevere.
Forgive me my failings.
Thank you for the cross.
Help me.
Help me to find strength in my weakness.

Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12) 

Time to look up

When you cannot sleep for at least two hours after going to bed
And then wake up over an hour early,
After bad sleep, so tense you are almost rigid
And then a concrete cutter starts up in the street outside

When you feel worse than usual
And life seems bleak, painful and pointless
Problems overwhelming
The past haunting and shifting

When you want to cry but you cannot

Then it's time to look up; I am so glad of music, of the reminder to turn again to God, who does not shift or change, in whom there are no shadows, who understands and cares, who listens and grants peace, who is all powerful, strong and loving.

Then for a while I can focus on the truth and on how loved I am and how one day all things will be new, no tears, no pain, then everything falls back into its proper perspective.

Then I am so glad that I put the worship CD in the kitchen yesterday, so it was there when I needed it most, when the music broke the blow as the newspaper headlines hit.

Thank you Father, help me not to lose your perspective and your love.

This is a simple song, but it never fails to remind me of what matters.

Come on my soul... let down the walls... it's time to look up.

52 weeks of happy - week 5

A steadier week thankfully, once I had recovered from the "alarums and excursions" at the end of last week and was able to sleep again.  There was even a good day, which is a rare thing indeed.  I do keep meaning to blog in between these posts but keep not getting around to it,  hopefully tomorrow I can remedy this as I have a couple of finished objects to post about if nothing else.

1. Blue sky - a rare commodity over this past year and so much appreciated on the occasions that it has appeared.  I spent time sitting simply looking at it, drinking it in.  At times it was accompanied by sunshine which was lovely, even the feeble warmth of winter sunshine was wonderful and a hint of the spring to come.  I truly am praying and hoping that this year will be less overcast than last, after a while it just starts to drag you down, especially during the summer when it is supposed to be better weather - oh how British, going on and on about the weather!



2. Unexpected early buds - my dad had used some prunings from the wild cherry tree to stake some hyacinths we had in a pot in the kitchen and being in the warmth, with the water from the pot, they have started to bud.  Some are almost out, when they are I shall try to get photos and get them up here.  We have collected up some more of the prunings and put them in a vase to see if similar happens to them.  I never like seeing branches indoors like that if they've been cut off the tree just to look at, it seems mean to all the birds and insects who would benefit from them, but since the tree needed pruning anyway it is not so bad.



3. A lovely pub breakfast with knitters last Saturday morning, good food, friendly chatter and laughter and knitting, a good way to spend any morning in my opinion.

4. Having a good day - not a dramatically good day, just a calmly, nothing getting to me, not feeling too awful day, which is better than wild excitement or overwhelmingly happy in my book.  A walk in the sunshine, reading on the sofa in the sunshine, seeing two police horses go past the house (they appear to have been past our house every day this week at exactly the same time, looking very handsome but rather bored), some peace and quiet and noticing that some snow drops had come out.  Unfortunately the photograph I managed to get is not very good because there was an incredibly high wind so all the plants kept moving about wildly.



Here's to more good days in future.

Doing enough

Last night I was having another of my guilt-filled panics with God about "the future" and whether or not I should be doing and achieving more.  This is a frequent thought, which derives from a vague sense that I should be doing something, regardless of how I am and it seems to be a deep seated idea as I have struggled with it for a long time now.  I see all my friends and contemporaries getting PhDs or married or having children or careers or travelling, or a mixture of the above, and feel like a failure, an idea further engendered from my family, where to have a BA degree is to be somewhat under-educated.  What am I doing?  What have I done with the last six years of my life?

Then something like this morning happens, a sudden crisis in my mother's health and all these thoughts fall away as the central business of existing suddenly takes over and consumes all my energy and thought.  Thankfully my mother is recovering and I am gradually recovering from the shock, although things are not entirely back to normal.

In the midst of this I read Ruth's post on her excellent blog One Little Drop this morning and then read the blog posts she had linked to and they gave me back some sense of perspective on myself, the first article in particular.  All this time that I have been ill I have felt under a pressure from others to be doing something, or that it was time to move on from being ill and do something, as though it were that simple, when so many days are spent simply managing to get through the day, when being consumes all energy.

And yet, and yet... I still lack the confidence to say that I am doing enough, that just being and getting through the day with grace and the minimum of self pity and bitterness is enough.  Jesus help me, give me your perspective.

A blogger's miscellany

1. I'm aware it's been a while since I last posted, unfortunately I haven't been too well, I overdid things somewhat and then muddled up the date of my flu jab and turned up 24 hours too early.  This lead to me missing sleep to get up early two days running which is what finished me.  It seems that despite more than 12 years' practice I still haven't quite got the pacing thing quite right.

In order to combat my disorganisation I have purchased a diary for the coming year, it's simple, small but stylish and a great cheerful colour.


2. I have been enjoying this song a lot lately, it is simple but full of hope


3. I have done a lot of knitting lately but most of it is secret Christmas knitting, which I can't show on here just in case.  In between I have been doing some small ornaments though such as the small jumper below.  I'm also having a go at the adorable mini snowman from Mochimochiland's miniatures' collection.


4. I'm very excited about Kate Davies' forthcoming book The Colours of Shetland and am looking forward to knitting the shawl shown at the top of her blog and in the meantime am planning to knit her pattern which came out today - Snawheid hat, .  You can see her adorable dog Bruce helping with the photographs of the hat here.

I'll try not to let it be quite so long before the next post.

Unbecoming Victor[ia]

Lately I have been feeling in increasing sympathy with Victor Meldrew (the 'hero' of One Foot in the Grave), feeling incredibly intensely angry with just about everything. I have found myself ranting and shouting at the television, losing it over the slightest thing, tense and overwhelmed by anger. A lot of it to do with feeling out of control and unable to change things, like the government or the benefits' system or the way we human beings treat one another.

Of course I know that anger is not always a negative thing, that Jesus was righteously angry, most famously when he took a whip to the sellers in the temple courts. However, although a very small proportion of my anger could perhaps be construed this way - at injustice in the world and my own sin - the majority of it cannot. Moreover it is not even useful anger, of a sort that spurs one onto change something in the world, to do something about it, instead it leaves me exhausted and drained, which is not a good use of an already scarce resource.

This weekend, having shouted and ranted my way through most of an edition of Any Questions on Radio 4 I realised that I needed to do something to change this situation. In classical Christian parlance I felt convicted, in particular by Jesus' words in the sermon on the mount:

"But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to his brother, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell." (Matthew 5.22 NIV)

In particular by the word 'Raca' from this passage and I hated feeling so bitter, angry and out of control. It is the feeling that there are major aspects of my life, such as my health care provision or my income and general government policy, over which I have no control. I have been enraged by the government's attitude towards the vulnerable and their demonization of the sick and disabled; and worse still felt powerless, too tired to protest and generally overwhelmed, invisible and not heard. Listing all the things that have been making me angry would take a long time and it was alarming how unloving, ungracious (in the godly meaning of the word) and hateful I was becoming, the opposite of Jesus in so many ways.

But then as I was praying and mulling over how to deal with this, begging God to help me not feel so angry or be able to use this anger to some effect, it came to me. I may not have the ear of government ministers or the media, but I do have the ear of one who is far more powerful: God "for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing" (Romans 13.6 NIV) and He always listens (Proverbs 15.29; Luke 18, among many others).

Prayer yet again is the answer, as I have found many times before (why do I always seem to forget?!). It is doubly powerful because it can change a situation (e.g. 1 Kings 18) and change me: changes my heart and my mind and my attitude about people and situations as it brings me closer to God as I spend time with Him. So I've started praying, starting with David Cameron and continuing with others and situations which have made me angry, and already I feel calmer and more at peace with the world. Naturally it is not quite that simple, I still have a long way to go, but I feel like I am on the right path: knowing that I have someone I can turn to, who listens and is infinitely powerful, helps so much.

Before I feel too self-congratulatory I should thank God, for once again forgiving me and drawing me close to Him, for His patience and His love and His grace.

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philipians 4.4-7

May we all know God's peace.

An inauspicious start to February

Today I reached the point in the crash from going out for dinner on Saturday night with some church friends where I was wishing I'd not gone. At the time I did enjoy myself and was pleased I'd overcome the anxiety about it sufficiently to go, though the meal went on for longer than I expected and involved all the usual stressors like noise and uncomfortable chairs. Now I'm utterly fed up, with it always being the same story, with always having to pay so heavily for so little fun, with myself for letting it get me down, with the world for there being so little sympathy or kindness in it, with myself again for feeling sorry for myself... I could go on, but I won't bore us all to tears.

To compound matters I got stressed about a discussion I was having with some others about sickness, work and whether one should just "tough it out" or stop. It's an area in which I am incredibly sensitive; I loathe that I can't work, I feel guilty about it, all the things I wanted to achieve that are not happening and that may never happen. I tried the "toughing it out" or "pushing myself" approach and did myself terrible damage. So getting into a discussion on the topic on a day when I already felt awful and low, was not the wisest decision. Getting into this discussion on-line, where all nuance of voice, expression and body language - was an even worse decision. Naturally being very physically stressed and unable to relax lead to the inevitable migraine. Mercifully the migraine tablet (once located, in the waste paper basket, to which I had consigned the box thinking it was the empty one), worked its miracle and I feel largely better except for the usual weird aching joints that accompanies them.

So what to learn from this catalogue of misadventure? Not to get into argumentative discussions because I simply do not have the strength to deal with them. To try not to be so over sensitive to every nuance of what someone is saying. That everyone is different, every situation is different, therefore what is right for one person is not necessarily right for another. That I still have a lot of things I need to straighten out. That no person is utterly reliable and that Jesus is still very much the one to turn to and cling to and trust. All the storms of this life seem to blow me in His direction, thankfully. Therefore repentance and receiving His forgiveness, love and understanding awaits and I'll try to learn from my mistakes.

Phew, quite a lot of moaning there, sorry. Got to "talk" to someone though and it has helped getting my thoughts in some sort of order and out of my head, instead of buzzing around inside. I'm going to listen to Ed Reardon's Week now, his curmudgeonly grumpiness will be just right to help me relax before bed!

12000m

A bit over a year ago I registered for a website called knitmeter.com which, as the name suggests, is a tool for recording how much yarn you have knit up over a period of a week, a month or a year. As a bit of fun at the start of this year I decided to see if I could knit 1000 metres a month during this year and yesterday I hit my ultimate target of having knit more than 12000m in 2010 - 12040m to be exact. I may stop using the site though, because at times it made knitting a little bit stressful - worrying that I hadn't hit my "target" for the month, even though the target was utterly meaningless.

So there is one of my plans for the year achieved, if an odd one. My other 'resolution' or aim last year was to knit a pair of socks a month, which I almost achieved - I made 11 socks over the year - though I've still got half a sock on the needles. As of today I have finished the seriously warm knee high socks I started on Christmas day so that should help in the next cold spell.

For 2011 I would like to knit at least one item a month for charity - probably for St Mungo's mainly - and also keep developing design ideas. In non-knitted areas of life I would like to get back on the Weightwatchers waggon, having fallen off in a spectacular fashion over Christmas, and keep living more healthily and losing weight. It would be good to make up the Clothkits bag kit I bought ages ago and generally improve my sewing skills, learn to use my new camera and I would like to keep blogging and keep writing. Otherwise generally keeping on building on the CBT skills I learned earlier in the year and be able to be less at the mercy of my mood, and be more sociable and probably most importantly keep walking closely with Jesus. I pray I can keep pressing on into God, rather than just drifting along, get to know Him better and study His word more, grow as a Christian.

Most of all I'd like to get better, but that's more in the "pipe dream" end of things! I have no idea what the next year will contain or whether I'll manage the things detailed above, I sincerely hope so, but I know that God will be with me through the year and that He will never leave me or forsake me, so that's the important stuff covered.

Why I'm feeling sad

I think I have realised why I'm feeling sad, it's because I'm feeling rather lonely. I haven't been well enough for church group for a little while now and I haven't seen any other Christians in ages, which is so hard. What I'm longing for is some fellowship, talking about Jesus, reading the Bible, getting into it with another person or other people, praying together and for one another. And I'm so nervous of asking because I've had so many brush offs and disappointments in the past when asking for help, so many times been told simply "to rely on God" and stop asking. And of course everyone's busy. It's all so silly and I'm sure there's a logical way out of it.

At least I got some more sleep last night. I can't think of anyone to say all this to, so I'm saying it to a blog, shouting it into the internet.

Now to pick myself off, dust myself off and give myself a stiff talking to about how bad and pointless self pity is!

Decisions, decisions

Today I made a momentous decision: I have joined Weightwatchers (and about time too! I hear from the gallery). I have been vaguely thinking I need to lose weight, but then going out and buying chocolate, for quite a while now and I've finally reached a point where enough is enough. Today I'm in the right place financially and mentally to be able to do something about it and sufficiently fed up with being this fat to want to do it.

So I'm slowly getting to grips with my life being ruled by points (it's rather like being back in the second world war really) and reading the recipes on their website and entering depressing personal data. I'm stoked that carrots and cabbage are 0 points (or nuls points as it would be in the Eurovision song contest), but slightly peeved that one tablespoon of petits pois is 1 point. The number of points associated with cheese has blown my tiny mind! I have looked into the future and it contains significantly less cheese than once it did, right now I don't mind too much, how I will feel in coming weeks remains to be seen. I have been hungry at times today, despite being 8.5 points over my target number of points (looks embarrassed and blames the cheese) but that was always going to be the case switching from eating unlimited rubbish to limited healthy things, however sustaining the healthy things.

I'm hoping overall to feel better about myself, that the fibro/ME might improve (I can dream!), to be able to wear nice clothes, cut the risk of nasty health problems associated with being really overweight, to be able to knit more sweaters without having to toil through the acres of stocking stitch currently required to cover me and ultimately to be healthier in my habits and my relationship with food for life. Challenges are going to include any dips in mental health, times when I feel down and habitually reach for the biscuit barrel or times when I feel bored and eat to alleviate the boredom and the sheer number of pills I'm on that can cause weight gain (will be discussing this with GP when he re-emerges from his sabbatical). Hopefully a combination of relying on Jesus instead of food (also helping my spiritual health) and knitting will get me through.

My first target is to lose 7lb, I shall let you know how I get on. In the meantime I'm going to be quiet in case I turn into a WW bore (see, I'm already using the abbreviation!).

In other news I've finally found the pattern notes I had made for changes I'm making to the knee socks I started ages and ages ago so can continue them, my mini hot water bottle cover is almost finished and the weather is already such that my Forest Canopy Shawl is coming into its own keeping me warm about the house.

Lastly this evening I have started listening to Alice Through the Looking Glass excellently read on BBC Radio 7 by Alan Bennett, which is either an unsuccessful attempt to teach chess through allegory or the results of experiments with mind altering substances - my friend John reckons higher maths, though I'm inclined to think drugs of some form myself.

A little bit sad

I've been feeling a little bit sad today, couldn't work out why, then realised that today would have been Amy's 27th birthday. I hadn't forgotten her birthday, it just took a while for my feeling of sadness and this fact to match up - not that I'm ever slow on the uptake or anything! Still miss you Amy, hope they have good birthday parties with Jesus.

Trying to keep the old pecker up and all that, but tired from my weekend, in spite of its peacefulness. Sometimes it really sucks having a condition that makes even a phone call tiring.

Back to blanket edging now, that's more fun than the blanket itself.

Grace and ungrace

Increasingly lately I've received the distinct impression that pretty much everybody I know is simply too busy to have any time for me. I'm honestly not saying that out of self-pity or to guilt-trip people into spending time with me, it's not attention seeking, it's just an observation. Everyone is very busy, with jobs, spouses, friends, boyfriends/girlfriends, hobbies, holidays, the daily stuff of living. Meanwhile I find that as a single sick person I'm low down on everyone's agendas, which is understandable in a way. I'm too tired most of the time to go to most of the big events where people meet up such as weddings, church meetings and services and parties, and it takes a lot of commitment to go and see a person, a lot of time and time is something everyone seems short of.

Having said that it does make me sad to be alone so much. I start to wonder if I really have anything to offer anybody, if I'm boring to be with, do I moan too much. Part of it is the illness, I can't see people too often anyway because it's too tiring, but just sometimes it would be nice to have something sociable and fun to write down in my diary, not just another medical appointment. Some social event I can manage, something on my terms, that meets my needs (selfish as I know that sounds) not having to fit in around other people's schedules and needs. I remember at Durham someone suggesting we meet for breakfast for half an hour at 8 am (due to the drugs I have to take I'm really not a morning person) because she couldn't fit me in at any other time, literally for weeks to come. Knowing that you are that unimportant to your "friends" doesn't exactly do a lot for the self esteem or for feeling valued.

When I mentioned some of this to my therapist, how my friends never seem to have time for me, she asked if these people really were friends, if they behave like this, which I will admit set me thinking. I'm certainly not about to flounce off in a huff and cut myself off from everyone who doesn't have time for me - I wouldn't have many friends or even acquaintances left if I did - and also because I do understand that life can be very busy and that I feel the gap more because I have so little happening in my life.

Instead I am trying to control the part of this situation that I can control - how I react to the situation, to my friends. Sometimes this involves setting aside how I feel and reaching out to friends with grace, sending a short message of support and love, rather than holding onto resentment and anger about not hearing from them. There's enough "ungrace" in this world; I don't want to add to it. Before I come across as some plaster saint I should say that this is often the utter opposite of what I want to do or say - it is only by the grace of God that I can do this, His Spirit in me.

I long for some fellowship and refreshment, someone (or some people) to share the journey with, in a way I can really join in with. I would love to be able to give as well as receive too, to encourage others, listen, be there for someone, feel of value in the body of Christ. But I'm too tired to go to the meetings or do much. I suppose I'll just keep praying and be glad that Jesus doesn't have such a busy schedule or require you to attend meetings in order to spend time with Him.

As I said earlier, I'm honestly not trying to guilt-trip anyone, just express how I feel, I've got to somehow or I'll go mad.

The elusive "it"

I think I've found it, or solved it, the elusive niggle that something's not quite right, that I'm out of sync with something. It is hard to quantify, explain, put into words, other than to say that praying felt like "shouting into a concrete bucket" to quote the inimitable Adrian Plass (I think), that I was somehow out of sorts, distant from God.

My answer to this "it" is as simple as the word, I realised yesterday that I keep trying to do several things at once: multitasking. Now this is fine, a useful ability, but a tiring one and not always the greatest in a relationship, not if the multitasking stops you from fully focussing on who you're trying to relate to. It's like sitting in the same room with someone, talking, but never catching their eye, never looking at them, hearing most of the words, but not bringing them fully to focus inside your mind and missing all the body language, emotion and tone. That's what I've been doing with God. I need to stop and spend some time with Him completely, not doing anything else, just being with Him.

This isn't to say there isn't some value in Brother Lawrence's ideas about being with God all the time through everything you do in the day, but it helps if at some point in that day you stop and relax and spend some time just being together. Simple though the solution seems, I doubt I'll sort this out overnight, I spent some time just listening to songs, singing along, 'worshipping', bathing in Him, revelling in who He is and what He has done. (While we're here, I know that everything we do is supposed to be worshipping Him etc. etc. and that worship can take many different forms, it's just that today that's how I was worshipping Him. There's something in music, in singing alone (or even better together) about and to our God, that is ancient and good and holy and biblical.) Anyhow, meanders aside, it was good, refreshing, I know feelings aren't everything, but it did feel good. Next time maybe we'll read the Bible together?

I've been listening to "Blue like Jazz" that my friend Nic recommended to me (I think it was her... correct me if I'm wrong), which I got from audible. It's interesting, thought provoking, needs digesting, will need to be listened to multiple times, or maybe I'll get the book and read it 'properly'. At first it felt a bit odd, drifting, just this guy's thoughts, but gradually themes have emerged and interesting ideas with them. It helped me to realise how I was dividing myself from God and not paying attention properly, not engaging with Him. That's valuable enough in itself to get from a book.

Tonight it's made me feel a bit doubtful of myself again, it doesn't take much to make me doubt myself. He's started talking about how we're not meant to be alone, which I know - all too well, and about community. How we could stop feeling lonely if we lived in community - shared places to live and lived together as a church, as people, how damaging loneliness is. He makes the solution seem so simple, get off your backside and go engage with people, talk to them, listen to them, humble yourself and be open for them. But what if you can't? What if you can't physically make it to see people? What if you can't make it to their meetings and groups? What are you supposed to do then?

Is it my fault that I'm sick and can't get out and talk to people and start creating community? Am I just not trying hard enough? Trying hard enough... those words come up so often, they make me worry so much, like things would be better if I tried harder. But really, tried harder at what? When are these words lies and when is it true? When do I need to try harder? Why? I know I need to see more people, more brothers and sisters especially. Sometimes I need to make more effort, but there's days and weeks and months where I don't have the effort to give. What then?

So I feel like a failure again and try to remind myself of grace, again.