A Note on a Plummet.

This post is going to be self-indulgent, so those who dislike blog writers resigning themselves to such expression should switch off now and seek out something more entertaining such as cookery hints, flower arranging for the simple minded, show business shenanigans, conspiracy theories, or near death experiences. (Or try YouTube instead. There’s plenty available there.)

This one is about my state of mind.

You see, I realised today that the dear old thing I call a mind used to occupy a place atop a hill somewhere pleasant and positive. OK, the evidence of circumstances related on these pages down the years leaves no doubt that it took frequent sojourns to some dark, gloomy places, but it always came back out onto the airy upland eventually. Things appear to have changed now.

It appears that several years ago – and I can’t put a precise date on it or relate it to any particular circumstance – it took a fall from the hilltop and plummeted down a precipitous slope. It didn’t fall to the bottom of the hill though, but rather landed on a ledge where the cold wind blows and comforts are in short supply, and has been stuck there ever since.

(I read recently about a sheep in Scotland which experienced the same fate. The news report called her ‘the loneliest sheep in the world’, and she remained on the ledge for two years until a group of local farmers came along with ropes and tackle and rescued her. I see no obvious prospect of me being so lucky. Adult humans don’t generally get rescued; they either rescue themselves or they learn to live with it. I’ve long been of the opinion that counsellors and psychotherapists can be quite efficacious in matters of trauma, but rather less so when dealing with long term issues. Maybe I’m wrong. How would I know? But to continue…)

This evening I came across an old blog post which featured a YouTube video of a short extract from the original version of Riverdance performed in Dublin in 1995. (It was the dance called ‘Countess Kathleen’ if I remember rightly.)

Well, the mid nineties were a special time in my life, a vibrant time characterised by positivity, connections, new experiences, etc, etc. So when I saw the piece and heard the music, it all came back and my poor old mind was suddenly assailed by a sudden onset of emotion. ‘How on earth,’ I asked myself, ‘did I go from that to this? How, when, and why, did the darkness fall the way it did?’ And I had no answer.

That’s about as much as I feel I need to say on the matter, except to add that the onset of emotion didn’t last very long. It was but a passing cloud, so I would ask those who’ve come to know me over the blogging years not to judge me too harshly. The fabled British stiff upper lip still occupies the watchtower to keep emotional onsets strictly in their place. (Although it can be briefly sympathetic in exceptional circumstances.)