Just like there is always time for pain, there is always time for healingJennifer Brown, Hate List
Today was an absolute smasher of a day. I am truly spoiled by this heat, by the sun and the wonderful buzzing atmosphere in London everytime the sun comes out.
I walked past Caffee Nero and suddenly remembered I had a fully stamped coffee card. Oh the treat when you don’t have any money. They even kindly let me have a super green smoothie instead of coffee. I went to the park and completed my journal entry for the day and gazed at the copious number of runners out and about (some with their tops off!).
I got back home and was immediately invited out for drinks by my best friend and to play with his new kitten, Loki, who I am cat godfather too. He was absolutely adorable. We went out for (non-alcoholic) beverages and caught up over our family struggles, his fathers cancer, boy troubles, money troubles, hopes, holiday plans and so on. It is truly wonderful to be able to just talk about what sometimes see like the banalities of life.
I then went on a long cycle ride to the Royal Albert Hall where I was to listen to the Proms.
I was meeting up with M, and I haven’t decided yet if we are “seeing eachother” or if I am “friend zoned”. A very confusing conundrum.
It was here that I listened to Camille Saint Saens – Symphony Number 3 in G major. I don’t know classical very well. And this was a knowledgeable (white) middle class audience maybe. I engaged with a discussion with a gentleman outside and confessed.
I’m completely uncultured I have no idea what to expect! And yes banging my hands against my thighs is the only music I can play.Sober and the City, 2021
Listening to the piece is like being teased.
The conductor brings the whole orchestra in and out, quite and loud, focus on the strings, the brass, the triangle, the organ. Slowly building, sound retreating quiet then loud until the respelendent finish which sent goosebumps down my spine.
M had booked us standing tickets in the audiotorium. Never had I imagined in my wildest dreams would I be here. It had always seemed unobtainable, something that only posh people did, something I wasn’t sure I could listen to or like.
We went for dinner afterwards outside and had some Chinese. It was hear that emotions ran high and M spoke of his frustration about work, I queried and he got rather frustrated and angry.
“You really piss me off sometimes B, when you’re like this”M, in a heated moment
“I’m only interested because I care. I won’t have the answers, but I can’t listen”Response after me deliberately pushing M’s buttons to talk
I could see he was frustrated. He asked me about my family and I took him through the death of grandad, the stress of my relatives caring for Grandma in dementia, the suicide of my aunt a decade ago, the drama of divorce and the constant feed of don’t tell your mother this but…
And my own powerlessness in this situation. Sometimes the download of all the family situation felt, wrongly, that the buck stopped with me.
I wanted asymmetry of honesty and communication in my relationships. It was only this morning that I needed to realise I need to demonstrate compassion in these relationships. That this constant feed of downloading about life is people’s therapy in a stressful situation.
We cycled home. M didn’t see the tears rolling down my cheeks. I cycled behind when this was happening. We got to his house and he wanted me to cuddle him. I just couldn’t, I was upset and he wasn’t there and then, at 23:00 going to understand why.
Family matters are complex but I am glad that I managed to share just a little of my “inherited trauma”.
And so the day came to a close, with a slightly bittersweet ending. A wonderful day, I am still unsure of where I am in my relationship. We had a fight and some brutal honesty. I am grateful for this.
Everytime I feel emotional pain, trauma and memories I am giving the time to heal and all wounds in time heal.