"may you live every day of your life." - jonathan swift

the past few days have been a pleasant blur for me. i started work the other day, finally, on the script idea i've had in my mind for months now; yesterday i dealt with the massive hangover from all the cosmopolitans i drank for inspiration.
i like the idea i have. i like how it's coming out. it rarely happens this way, but when it does, holy hell does it remind me of why i'm a writer. there's something so magical about the way words spill out when the timing's right - like watching this cosmic jigsaw coming together in one big sigh of satisfaction.

i'm also reading like a fiend right now - that probably has everything to do with it. i'm still enthralled with three day road, and am actually pacing myself through it so it will last longer (i'm trying to get used to delaying gratification that way.) i've also picked up othello, and no language is neutral, by dionne brand. it feels like i might just be able to tiptoe up to all the projects i've been wanting to work on - the little wisps of poetry, those stories - and seduce them into coming home with me.

on thursday, i went to physiotherapy for my weekly re-alignment. this is notable for a few reasons: the first being that i brought met with me.

i find it hard to trust people with my weaknesses; i always want to appear to be the strong woman, in control of her life and surroundings - always ready with an easy laugh and supportive shoulder. i don't like asking for support for myself at all, but like every other being on this planet, i need it sometimes.
met came with me to learn some of the stretches and massages that flood (my physiotherapist) does for me, in case i won't be able to afford to continue to go. he watched as flood asked me about my pain and i answered honestly - not something i do in front of people often. he watched as flood took my leg and dug his thumbs into my muscles as hard as he could to release the stiffness. i lay there, sometimes flinching in reaction, but pliable beneath flood's touch, completely vulnerable - and i felt nothing but peace. i was expecting (and wanting to confront) feelings of insecurity and self-consciousness, but instead it just felt natural.


the second reason physio was special for me this week was because flood told me that i've made great progress in the month since i started going. apparently, my hips are stabilizing and not 'moving around my body' as much - (that is incredibly hard for me to visualize, but whatever). when he said that, something dawned on me, and i asked him if the pain i've been feeling for the past month - basically localized in my hip joint and in my shin - was because things were changing inside, shifting and settling down. he said yes. he said that, (and i'm paraphrasing and probably being a bit hopeful), my body is accomodating new space, and that the pain is natural and will settle down once i'm used to it.

right away the fear that had been shadowing the pain melted away. it was a whole new way of considering pain - as a harbinger of growth, a signpost that i'm heading in the right direction. as a thing of beauty and hope in my life.

my sister, banane, is an organic farmer living in the country outside of toronto. she grows all kinds of vegetables and herbs, boils beeswax to make healing salves and lip balms, and knows more about food than almost anyone i know. she and i have spoken often about fire-clearing to prepare the land - when farmers light a controlled part of their fields on fire in order to start over. once the fire has burned out, and the soil has a chance to fully rest, that new and indescribable growth can take place.

i like the idea of pain as cleansing fire. that if i am in a place of difficulty or discomfort, that it is just because my body or soul is getting rid of something unnecessary, and that i am growing towards a place of fallow creativity, sprouting new buds of understanding. all i have to do is remember to be patient, and breathe.