Four months have passed since I lost my job. I have nearly finished my two career counselling courses. I have a better understanding as to what attributes my next career should have and which of my skills I want to be using. What this job should be is as elusive as ever, however. This is probably why I have found myself musing on my life rather a lot lately.
In the past, I spent endless hours and a lot of nervous energy trying to ensure that those around me got what they needed and when. The level of appreciation varied considerably. There were times when the most unlikely people carried me like their own child, complete with scuffed knee. Then there were times I could have cheerfully strangled those who were supposedly meant to be there for me.
Since my father's death nearly four years ago, I have tried to put myself first. Initially for health reasons.
I expected censorious indignation from certain individuals and, indeed, got a lot of that from one person in particular. However, the revelation is that I have had more support, care, and help than ever before in my life. One person even made a point of saying to me that I am a better person for becoming, in my eyes, selfish. If only I'd known sooner!
The even odder thing is that this support seems to turn up just when I need it. Take today for example, I went base over apex in my kitchen and landed heavily. So heavily, I couldn't even swear! Within minutes of sitting in a chair with an ice pack on my knee, a friend called and was quite insistent about knowing if I were ok. And this before knowing about the fall.
I have an earlier story (related here) that tells of my first experience of travelling to Egypt. As is any story-teller's wont, certain things were omitted from my narrative. In this case, it was a biggy. I found faith in the gritty sand of the Western Desert.
Yes, those of you with faith are now nodding knowledgeably and smiling softly to yourselves... "of course God answers her calls for help" or, perhaps, asserting Karma!
I'm not so sure of this myself as my new found faith is a fragile thing, finding survival much harder in my cooler homeland and I certainly can't say that I am practising a religion.
The Sinai blew me away. Sometimes quite literally! The scale and colours of the dunes were noteworthy enough, but there was something more. Something perceived as a sotto-voce whisper under the sounds of shifting grains and turbulent wind eddies. I could hear the voice of God in the susserating sands.
I can't explain. I could speculate on it being due to my change in attitude, from the daily practise of yoga in desert, or from the impact of the people I met, but choose not to. I just accept that whatever the reason, my life seems to have been permanently altered for the better by the experience.
I no longer wonder about the fervour with which people have fought over this area or over how three major religions arose in such a small area. The fact is, this region gets into your blood like the spice in Frank Herbert's Dune.
Oh, and for those of you without faith, don't panic, I always was this crazy. I just used to give a damn about hiding it!
