On Being Blessed

Video recs w/c 18th May

There is so much I want to talk about - the results from the local elections, the dividend of hope in football, what bullshit AI is on this week.

I don’t think I have it in me this week, so have this.

Patrick Stewart - John of Gaunt Speech (Richard II - Shakespeare)

A fitful sleep on Sunday night was the first domino to fall, echoing out through the week; dealing with all the feelings from Sunday night on Monday; a showdown on Tuesday; all pieces falling, which reached the nadir on Friday when I found out that someone who has played such a massive impact on my life - someone who I consider a mentor - had passed away.

He was not yet 50.

I can’t talk about what he did, or why he was so important to me yet. It’s too much. I pull at the thread and I just see how much of what he’s done has been interwoven in my life.

I’d like to think I was familiar with loss at this point. I can muzzle the inner feral dog and leash her well enough to be able to put on a show of functioning in front of people, and even on my worse days the show can withstand muster to even the most keen eyed friend.

I can do this in part due to my skill of making myself so busy during the day that I can’t think dwell and I can do so much to tire myself out - enough to avoid the long road of grief that stretches itself out through the night.

I make it sound awful, but I am very, very blessed. I have had messages from good people thanking me for my work. Such blessings have been plentiful this week, but it never quite filling the hole in my heart, yet enough to remind me that I have a responsibility and a duty to others.

On Saturday I found myself in the countryside, on the way to do jobs at the stables - we took a detour up the hills and by the Gods it was beautiful. I’m not eloquent enough to describe just how the town looked so small and tiny amongst the greenery, how the hills stretched out, dark against the skyline, how the sun bathed everything in a gold light. I thought immediately to the very famous ‘This sceptred isle’ speech from Shakespeare’s Richard II, which, when taken massively out of context, is a beautiful homily to the beauty of this dear isle delivered to perfection by Sir Patrick Stewart. I find myself reading a lot of Shakespeare at the moment, I often find myself at a loss at how to describe how I’m feeling and there always something to be found amongst his words.

Watching the evening unfold at the hills I found myself torn by anger and joy; angry because I didn’t want to be here, I just wanted to be elsewhere, I didn’t want to find another reason to stay and yet I felt so lucky to see this, to bear witness to this slice of beauty.