By Dawn M. Sanders
At the time of writing, it’s just another Sunday, while a lot of people are doing Easter and family things, I’m sitting solo – as I did yesterday on the beach, like when I sit in the same damn pub I have frequented for a good few years and in fact in most places where I venture.
Feeling alone and melancholy, got out my goddess cards, gave them a shuffle and chose Lakshmi, which says: BRIGHT FUTURE. Stop worrying. Everything is going to be fine.
Well, at a time when I’m feeling stuck, stagnant, unwelcome where I live, upset over my family situation and trying to relocate, it’s ironic and possibly synchronistic that, that card came up. These cards just have a magic and wisdom all their own and at the time of year representing hope and renewal – they couldn’t be more spot on and one of the emerging signs I have requested from the universe and all those looking out for me. Not saying I’m feeling positive or especially optimistic, not with my own microcosm uncivil war grinding on, not with worsening arthritis and yet another damn war raging out there – one which could take the world and humanity to the brink, but the cards have been speaking to me.
It’s a slightly cooler day than yesterday, but the sun is shining as I do today on my own terms – filling a couple of bags for the charity shop, trying to plan half-heartedly but a clear out of this place and minimalise on possessions. I’m doing the domestics when I get around to them but keeping more on top of it to minimalise on the cleaning when I leave here. I want to sell a few things – my massage table which, for the last 23 years or so has mainly just taken up space apart from the odd carting it to a festival or gathering to use my massage or Rei Ki skills. I want to just get rid of crap I’ve been toting along with me, in all the many moves, I’ve kept my bulky braille pages of massage syllabus, unwanted braille volumes of outdated computer programmes – just sitting atop my wardrobe taking up space and energy. I don’t know much about the whole feng shui thing but I’m sure there’s some truth in too much clutter stopping up a free flow of energy in someone’s home and headspace.
Back to the signs, I mean the signs I asked for about moving from Exeter back up to Chesterfield near my only son and family member in the whole of this country – a no-brainer, right? Well not entirely, not when I’m more in love with this place than the people here – the snobbery, the aloofness, the something I just can’t put a finger on that says, ‘you just don’t fucking belong here… Well, okay, it’s a hard pill to swallow – mainly because I came for a better quality of life – for both Jasper and me, but every effort I’ve made for his transition down here, the vultures clucking over him, wrecking our family life and making my life hell from afar, have prevailed in their power. None of that will make sense if you don’t know me or my little family – just my son and I, but it doesn’t need to.
I had a mystery caller the other day who left a message I couldn’t work out – to hell with mobile phones. I kept trying to guess and on one hand thought, awe never mind maybe they’ll get in touch again after I responded with a message to whoever it was but sitting in the sunshine in the park the other day, solo of course on my walk back from the canal – I tried again, the saved message. The phone rang and, after a couple of minutes of her explaining how we had met, the penny dropped, because I just couldn’t place her voice, it was Liz from Sheffield. Wow! Liz, who I had gotten to know from her kid and Jasper going to the youth club all those years ago. Her and I would eat dinner with our boys and other families, as the club would lay on curry buffets after the Saturday club. I discovered she too had been singled out and picked on by the vultures – just for no other reason than having additional needs as a single mum, as both her and her son have autism, as I’m visually impaired and Jasper is partially sighted and hearing impaired.
So, sitting there in the park chatting away to her, we reconnected, and I told her of my plans to move back up, just not to Sheffield, because I hate the place, nothing has worked out here and I need to be close to my son. She is the second person I’ve reconnected with in as many weeks. I finally got hold of Gina, another old friend from Sheffield, now living half an hour away from Chesterfield. She’s having some health problems but said I could stay for a few days next month to try and find a place to just get moved – now that I’ve finally decided to go, but with a little help from the universe and some unseen but crucial friends, ancestors, and wise ones. Yep, all the signs are neon and couldn’t be more crystal…
Editor’s note: Names of friends have been changed in line with journalistic integrity.