I never thought I’d have to say I have sustained a marmalade making injury! But I have. More than a week ago I was sitting in my chair, kitchen scissors in hand and a bowl of lovely lemons preparing to make a sweet brew. They, several kilos of them, from Spain via Crowd Farming were sent by a kind and generous friend. The Mangos from the same source via the same kind friend were pretty spectacular too. Thank you, again
There are consequences for sustained restricted movements. Physical ones. Snip, snip and more snips resulted in a bunched up muscle by my shoulder blade. It’s not rocket science, I knew the consequences but did I listen and refrain, or even take a break now and then? Nope. Don’t we just think we can ‘get away with it’?
Days on and in spite of my best efforts to allow nature to do what she does so well, to allow balled up muscles to release into their appropriate length, my ‘wing’ (arm and shoulder) has literally gone into spasm. My right arm is doing its ouchie thing. Nerve pain. Ouch! Triple ouch.
Help is on its way and in the meantime, my metaphorical wings are indeed clipped. If one can’t do that for oneself then circumstance will do it for you. I take this as a blessing. We are, after all, on our January Monastic Retreat when doing less is best, and recomended.
I’m over pity, both self-pity and the desire for pity from others. Just send merit if you would, please. My walking companion’s quiet sympathy is enough. Thanks. More on self-pity, perhaps tomorrow. I’ve lots of space and time now……!
Note on gratitude: This post is for a person who is in extremity physically and that tends to come with emotional/mental stressed outness too. A larger jar of Marmalade has their name on it. And another jar for a couple of chaps who look out for me, and I for them.
I sense you readers out there as I write. Thanks for coming back, it’s always a great boost to know you are there. Reading.