Germinate

A severed rhubarb flower on a willow pattern plate on the table near where I sit. One book said not to let the flowers grow, then another L found later said you could enjoy letting the flower bloom, creamy white, before cutting it off. This tight bud seems a reproach now. Smells of young sweet rhubarb. The most memorable thing my first therapist ever did, was to show me a courgette seedling on her windowsill, the seed case still stuck to the burgeoning, contorting shoot like a clamp. She told me it reminded her of me, or I reminded her of it, not sure which way she put it. You should know that it was gently, kindly expressed, and resonated deeply with the work we were doing at the time, probably 20 years ago now... In similar vein, K the astrologer tells me my Mars-Saturn opposition gives rise to an effect she describes as 'driving with the brakes on'.

I met J this morning, and we drew to a close the chapter of my working for her business. I went to the office to leave some stuff, pick up some money (not much money), give back my key, and say my goodbyes. Everyone was sweet and gentle and concerned about me not getting the job last week, and J gave me the warmest of hugs at the door. I know it's right but it seems to have brought back the feelings of being 'out' and 'on my own' from November... The light today doesn't help - unspeakably bleak, dark and heavy at moments as if about to rain, then lightening just a little, but always brooding, dim, though never actually raining, which might perhaps give some relief. It's like the set lighting for a play about loss and loneliness and existential angst of all kinds.

All I want to do is go forwards. All I want to do is go backwards. All I want is to look after myself. All I want is to be looked after.