April 18, 2020 saturday
I felt depressed in my new found isolation the first night. Finding myself with no distractions, save my art or beading, I felt very alone.
Being alone and not being able to contact people you know are two different kinds of isolation. Having people around you, but not able to talk to them is another form of isolation. I am experiencing all three. The worst right now is not to be able to read a book, look at my photos, watch a show or listen to the music I have grown fond of discovering.
It gets dark around 6:30 pm, sunrise about the same time. Those times with a variant of about 30 minutes throughout the year are my constants. Without a phone, I no longer have a clock. I haven’t worn a watch since I started carrying a cell phone. It’s a strange feeling not knowing what time it is. We live in a world dictated by time, so your perspective changes when you no longer can look at a clock. Well, already on my first day of new restrictions, I understand my body will lead the way.
For example, it is night, I should be sleeping, but I am wide awake. I had a dream which I woke from, but didn’t remember right away. As I lay here I thought I should be tired, I should go back to sleep. But then I began to see that time doesn’t matter. My life is no longer ruled by modern convention.
I thought to myself, “I wish I could turn on my iPad and write a story”. Then I realized I can still write. But I know I will have to slow my thoughts down to write by hand as it is a slower process, I cannot get things down in writing as quickly as I can typing. So here I am at a time unknown, beginning a written journal once more. It feels good to understand there is freedom in this new isolation.
It occurs to me that not being able to talk to my friends, I must let go of my worry for them. Worry and caring are not the same thing, it is valuable to distinguish the difference as I sit here in contemplation. I realize I have spent my whole life worrying; about my children, about people I have met, yet don’t really know, my job, my home, what people think about me, about my past, my future, who I am and does that matter?
I am back in the room of my childhood, a place without time or meaning. It was just a room, without life, comfort or the things reminding me of my short life lived. But I have more than I did as a child. I have crayons, felt pens, the tools of a child. I have pen and paper, the tools of an adult. I have beads to make jewelry. I have Miss Mali, my great companion. I have memories, but those I had as a child as well. I am certain those memories kept me going during my time in the room. My desire to return to those who loved me gave me strength. Once again I am left with the sense there is purpose to my new found isolation – meant to go back to that time in my life, remember something, maybe many things.
When my computer died, I began to “Let go let God”.
While these thoughts were swirling around in my mind, I began to remember my dream. Actually not much of it is clear to me, but there was a great sum of money involved. Another woman, someone I knew in the dream, but can’t remember now I’m awake, gave me a stack of money; my share of “something”. Not knowing where it came from didn’t seem to matter, so I hoped this meant it was “good money”. I choose to believe this as I thought about how I would use the money. The rest of the details seemed irrelevant.
As I lay there thinking about having such a large sum of money, a plan formed in my mind to help others. I realized I could ; help Elizabeth create her healing centre here at Victoria; help Susi build her shelter for abused women; help María and Javier get wifi and give them some cushion money while they’re building their new life; help Inthy get his camera, help his family build their tourism business; help Lucas; build my own project; get my teeth fixed and begin to eat better again; help supply the many people here in the valley struggling to get what they need.
Dreams are wonderful, but as John Lennon said “A dream you dream alone is just a dream. A dream you dream together is a reality”
So for now I will follow my new rhythm. Eat when I am hungry, sleep when I am tired and fill in my day with whatever strikes me as important. Time is no longer my master, it is my companion able to teach me to listen more closely to the spirits around me.
It must be around 2:00 am because Chiripa has begun her nightly ritual of barking which can go on for hours. She has been barking since I began to write, so maybe it is closer to 3:00. I feel it will be important to write each day to keep track because as many of you may have realized, one day just bleeds into another when you lose your schedule. While on one hand the time seems to go so fast, it also seems to stand still.
I had another dream when I woke this morning just after sunrise. It was a silly dream really, not worth mentioning. But when I woke I found myself remembering what Willak told me after my ayahuasca ceremony during the first months here in Ecuador.
He said my caregivers, the family who raised me in Canada, were very cruel, they wanted to destroy me. There was so much pain in my head, I was applying pressure above my eye trying to release it. It felt as though my head would burst from the pain, and I was nauseous. Applying pressure helped somewhat, and I believe I fell asleep once more or separated from my body to deal with the pain. When I came back to myself, I was very frightened, in the process of going into a panic attack, but not understanding why. Grateful for the breathing exercises I recently found, I began to bring myself out of the attack. Over the next 3 weeks, I would be able to understand the connection between the attacks and my past. Quite a surprise really.
So the journey continues, one step at a time, one day at a time……