Sunday Scribblings #27 – I carry
I am the means by which something passes, or is inspired to flow or move,
from one place to another.
Sherpa.
A term of endearment that my husband uses.
“Why won’t you let me carry something for you?”, he often asks.
I am alive, protected and safe.
But only if I am carrying something.
Usually that means a change of clothes.
Or maybe it’s the groceries.
Likely it’s my macbook.
When I’m walking, I carry a big heavy backpack.
It weighs almost 20 pounds (I weighed it on the Jet Fuel scale one day).
Here it is:
My network chiropractor just laughs when she sees it.
I wonder how I balance on my bicycle with that thing.
In India, it’s perfectly normal to carry your life and livelihood on your bike.
I really “get” that.
I really do.
Can you see the bicycle under all those cans?
My therapist once pointed out that when I was really ill,
I carried tons of bags with me.
Funny how illness exacerbates our idiosyncracies
to the point of being considered dysfunctional.
I guess that means that I’m never too far from the
edge.
I carry 12, 732 days with me.
I carry 10 years of elementary school,
5 years of high school,
4 years of undergrad,
and 2 years of grad school.
I carry 21 years of formal education!
Currently, I carry some sort of virus that is attacking my oto-pharyngeal constituency.
It is causing me pain, fatigue, muffled hearing and dysphonia (voice disturbance).
I carry a motion: “be gone, virus!”
All in favour?
Motion passed.
Too often, I carry guilt.
I once carried shame.
No longer.
Yes, I no longer carry disgrace or dishonour.
I carried Andrew when he was only a few minutes old.
I do not know what it is like to “carry” a child (in the literal, maternal sense).
I used to try to carry my cat Pekoe, but that was disturbing for her so
she’d wriggle out of my hold all seizure-like and fall to the ground.
I have carried life, I have carried death.
I carry labels, but I don’t live up to them.
Or at least I fight them.
And try not to give in.
You know what?
I’m grateful, because I CAN carry.
I can carry.
Jenn,
I just read a few of your blogs and they really touched me. I used to know you along time ago…I don’t know if you remember or not. I would like to catch up.
kim_begg@hotmail.com
Jennifer, I really love what you did here!
These are beautiful thoughts. I wondered how you would end it and I love what you did with it! ~Linda
Lots of living in this post! Wise and wonderful, willing and willful.
“Why won’t you let me carry something for you?”, he often asks.
my husband offers all the time, sometimes i let him, and let go…and thats a good feeling
Thanks for reminding me to be grateful for my body and what it can do.
What you said about India is so true!
One thoughtful post…
This is beautifully written. I like it.
Wow, you spent 10 years in Elementary School and 5 in high school? No wonder you are so smart. I should have stayed longer. LOL