In the Liminal

In the Liminal

Lost in the In-Between

I seem to have fallen between the cracks again. The cracks in democracy – I knew the Republicans wouldn’t have the guts, but all the same, like a hypnotised moggie, I watched as they failed the country they signed up to serve; the cracks in our collective sanity, as a shape-shifting killer bug continues to terrorise us; and the cracks in the climate which seems to be hitting back at us with a mini ice-age at the moment (I stepped out the front door to cut some thyme yesterday and nearly froze on the way to the window box!).

By which I mean, at this moment in time, I can’t seem to motivate myself to do the things I normally love. Or, rather, I wake up feeling perfectly fine and full of intentions, cheerily make a to-do list while drinking delicious café con leche, and then find it’s time for bed before I’ve had time to tick a single thing off. Each day seems to end almost as soon as it begins, I feel like I’m living in a philosophical experiment. 

I think I’m going to have to stuff my cynicism into an old coffee can and get into the habit of listing my achievements every evening before turning in. It’s no use waiting till the morning, I’ll have forgotten everything. Actually, I wonder if I should write things down as soon as I achieve them – made coffee; wrote to-do list; drank coffee; got dressed; ate breakfast; read two and a half pages of Feminism Interrupted; taught 27 kids to imagine Gretna Green as a place where magic happens; finally worked out how to see my notifications in the new Mac OS; downloaded a new to-do app…

My phone has just jingled to tell me it’s time to get ready for bed, again.

Tomorrow is another day…

Header image: Jean Dubuffet, Morello Cherry Head, 1957 via Galerie de la Présidence.

Header image: Bladderwrack Clinging to a Rock at the Solway Coast, by me. 

This Post Has 6 Comments

  1. dinahmow

    It’s a very common confusion these days!
    But perhaps the well of liminality may be a source of…something?
    If I hook a big one, I’ll let you know. Maybe even tie a fly for you…

    1. Eryl

      Yes, I definitely don’t feel alone! I sense something is down in the depths, it nibbles at my toes, but I never get sight of it.

  2. Scarlet

    Notifications in OS – Please tell! Mine seem to be random!
    I keep writing a list, which begins with: Write a list…
    Sx

    1. Eryl

      Swipe with two fingers from the right edge of your trackpad. This is on a MacBook Pro, no idea about anything else!
      At the top of my list is ‘write master list’! X

  3. Steph Newham

    OMG hope the littlilies,(?) don’t think the magic of Gretna is a puffy white dress. And thyme?, mines all bare sticks so lucky you but I have taken to ‘the early rise’, – a to-do list, just a dream still.

    1. Eryl

      They definitely don’t: the blacksmith was a magical being who made metal eyes that allowed you to see into the underworld, married dwarfs to their hammers and carried a pen that wrote love songs automatically. Amongst many other things!

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