Away with the carping demons

This year I look out at the lovely midsummer days rather than live in them; their light evenings and early dawns, the hayfields and flowers, have been to me as if viewed from a cinema seat. Somewhere  apart. Nothing to do with me, preoccupied as I am with the broken bits and pieces of my life and of others  – and physical pain. That’s how I’ve been, this past few days. The world this July night is full of images of heaven. The senses are caressed  – mock orange, an old rose, cut grass. In the distance,  the sound of  applause from a sunlit evening at Wimbledon, green, formal, traditional, unchanging.  But I am preoccupied.  What profit though, is there in being sad about what is and what cannot be changed now?  Live in the moment. Tell the carping demons who nag: ‘you could do better’ you could have done better’ to get behind me. And the double bluffing ‘conscience’ which gives no peace, anywhere at any time. Even at this moment. Yes. The flowers of the elder tree are sweet this season. And Mrs Llew and I are still alive. And she is hoping that Andrew Murray will win.

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3 Responses to Away with the carping demons

  1. lleweton says:

    Thanks for your Like, CM.

  2. valeriefreer says:

    “The world this July night is full of images of heaven.” I think that is my favourite line – I keep coming back to it, but then the other images beckon. It’s like a hymn in the middle of all – that hushed sense that allows the rest of the paragraph its cadence in the everyday life…

    Very much enjoyed.

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