This week an important thing happened to me. I had some lunch on the back bench. In sunshine. I wore layers - a vest, a jumper, a coat and a scarf. (Jeans too!) Laziness led me to add flip flops. And I threw on sunglasses just to let the surrounding wildlife have a treat at my resplendent markings.
I don’t usually eat lunch. Always breakfast, always dinner. But the strong sunshine screamed at me to sit for a few minutes, so I took leftovers and a Christmas tea onto the back bench.
The back bench is my therapy. Birds, hello! The sunbathing fox scampered away. Distant voices. I’m surfing gentle waves of anxiety and depression, nothing bad, but it’s not shifting its hide. I’m in a 7-week queue to have a routine appointment with the doctor, to chat about reasons for the immovable downshift.
But I might not need the doctor. I forced a walk out of myself today and the bench, well, it’s everything. Morning, noon or night, its time has arrived again, albeit that I attend with coat and flip flops. Not a moment too soon. I suppose it’s a church of sorts. Do you have something like this for you?
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member.
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