Of Memory, Concentration and emotional Perspiration

So much seems to have been going on the past couple of days that, I’ve not even found the residual energy to post a blog. My memory says “yeah, you have had quite a bit going on”, meanwhile my concentration does it’s darnedest to prevent me logging into the memory store. I think one of the differences between memory and concentration is, whereas memory is that great reserve of data concerning what one has done, experienced, read, seen etc., concentration is the cash point needed to access this reserve. Sometimes it’s difficult to remember your PIN, so you’re unable to proceed with the transaction; meantime your attention wanders off elsewhere rather than being bothered to open up your password manager. The memories are there but, in my case, all too frequently I’m too easily distracted to utilize it.

I suppose that concentration is more to do with discipline and planning but, fortunately or unfortunately, my mind is more like an erratic grasshopper. I tend to have a very spontaneous attitude to life and events, undisciplined some might say but, since the onset of ME/CFS forward planning of any kind has become even more difficult. Even thinking about a forthcoming event can so often lead to a state of panic but, then again, for the past few years I’ve never known how I’m going to be in terms of physical and emotional stamina from one day to the next (the worst case scenario is, not even knowing this from one minute to the next).

Whilst memories may flow at a sudden prompt, one thinks of Proust’s Madeleines, concentration requires a much more positive input and, that’s where the emotional stamina dries up on me.

A panic state grabbed me by the trachea and chest yesterday morning; the cause was quite simply having to be up early in anticipation of a parcel delivery which would require a signature, failing that the items would be returned to the depot. Suddenly, I felt trapped in the house (even though I very rarely leave its environs) and, my mind flooded with fears that perhaps I would so desperately need the loo at precisely the time the courier arrived. This was not the best start to the day and, I all too swiftly hyperventilated …; there was no way I could distract myself, switch on the PC, switch off again, pick up a magazine and promptly put it down again. My chest felt like it was being held in a vice, the perspiration fell away from me like water from a Thames Water Board mains pipe but, I did manage to get a breathe as I forced myself into my 7/11 breathing routine.

The parcel arrived by 11.55AM but, that didn’t provide the relief one would have anticipated; in some strange way I felt cheated, had the delivery not arrived that day then I could have been justifiably angry! Perhaps I’ve mentioned before, at times of discomfort or sensory overload (my all too frequent companion in recent years) I become a real irritable sod and, intense anger could be ignited by the most trivial oversight on anyone’s part. Yesterday, as part of the waiting game and, missing my full night-time bed rest allocation, cramps, bruised ribs, headache, earache and toothache all seemed to be sneering at me; all I needed was the least opportunity to let fly.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours after the parcels arrival, I felt sufficiently courageous and energized to break the seal. The parcel contained a new computer base unit which I was to set up for a friend of my beloveds. Initial set-up went quite smoothly but, when it came to the installation of some major programmes they just didn’t want to play ball! I had to find some way to avoid the obstructions, which the supposedly automated installation programme kept putting in my way and, eventually managed to overcome its obstinacy. Thankfully, some other programmes, and files, presented no such problems. Some 150MB of updates and patches later, we were ready to roll. Those 3 ½ hours, spent setting it up are the most intensive operation I’ve performed for many a year and, the opportunity to just collapse for the evening was taken with great relish.

Even after a very relaxed evening, every nerve in my body seemed to be screaming when I rolled myself into bed, and the old restless legs were having a field day. My mind by this time was fully alert and, my need and desire for sleep was thwarted for what seemed like endless hours. Apart from the occasional intervention of severe cramps in my calf muscles, I did manage to rest on the bed until a goodly portion of the morning had passed me by.

Having prepared a somewhat delicious trout, pepper and mushroom topping for our jacket potatoes, the afternoon has been one of total idleness marred only by the stifling heat!

Moving Onwards

By Sunday morning the air had freshened a little, probably helped by our second thunderstorm on Saturday, and I actually managed to settle down to some reading before removing myself from bed. This morning, I followed the same routine, having discovered the appropriateness of that time, prior to the exertion of manoeuvring oneself from a recumbent position into a standing or sitting one, for the reading exercise. On this occasion I managed to read a couple more chapters of Richard Holloway ‘Doubts and Loves’ (subtitled What is left of Christianity?). A familiarity with the background and themes of this study makes the book very accessible and, I’ve long admired Holloway’s attitudes and his passionately committed type of writing.

Long gone are the days when I could immerse myself in the world of Dostoevsky’s characters and thrive, perhaps in an almost perverse way, on the resonances which insisted on merging themselves into my personal / spiritual experiences for years after. These days, I simply don’t have the stamina to cope with such drama.

Now, after that slight digression, back to Sunday; by mid-afternoon I managed a perspirational three quarters of an hour doing a bit of gardening, which produced an almost comfortable tiredness. It is really very satisfying to be able to report a couple of steps forward, after the retrograde effects of heat and humidity on my physical and emotional well-being.

Although the temperature is still a little high, for my hard to satisfy physiological type, I have no problem in rejoicing and giving thanks for this day the Lord has made.

From Strobes to Showers

Around 2.00am this morning, the bedroom had its own personal strobe light display courtesy of a localized thunderstorm and, one always lives in hope that the air will have freshened as a result.

At 11.00am, I ventured into the garden to feed the fish but, it seemed as if my anticipation of a fresher atmosphere was to remain unfulfilled. The butterflies seemed to be enjoying the day, following their usual hectic lifestyle.

We're currently in the midst of a moderate rainshower, for which both I and the parched earth are extremely grateful.

SunnyDay Bloody SunnyDay

The sun has once again emerged with a vengeance, so I remain most of the time in the house, curtains drawn, and unable to think of what I could be doing. I’ve yet to make a start on my ‘concentration’ exercises; neither trying to get back into a reading habit nor, starting the editing of my proposed PDF publication, has occurred.

Even in my healthier days of yore, I was never a sun worshipper; these days, even my limited levels of activity are grinding to a halt, as the monotony of hot and humid days seem like they’re trying to squeeze subcutaneous fat out through my pores.

Brief visits to the pond, to feed the fish and, when necessary, top up and treat the water, have become something of a chore rather than a pleasant routine. Even under the shade of a pond-side parasol, ten minutes of relaxation seems a very long time as I observe the antics of the piscine inhabitants. Late evening is the most pleasant time to be out in the garden but, by then the fishes feeding times have long since passed. I long for cooler days, just as much as the parched garden yearns for rain.

If it wasn’t for the weather, what would us Brits have to talk about?

Perspirational Overload

With a degree of regret, I have to acknowledge that the radio weather prophet (see reference to Job’s comforter in previous posting) was right. Mid-morning I ventured down once more to ‘Open Church’, after a one week absence, the trek down being rewarded with breathable air. Shirt, cotton slacks and sandals, were the appropriate attire for the prevalent temperature, although it was several degrees cooler than of late.

After an enjoyable 50 minutes of conversation, the move out from the narthex, to travel the route back home, served to confirm the forecaster’s prediction of relatively high humidity. After even the contemplation of any activities being stymied, owing to atmospheric conditions over the past few days, it was indeed a refreshing change to venture out. Maybe the sense of relief was short lived but, I’m still grateful for the opportunity to have combined a walk with socializing activity after recent (heat) enforced denial of such outlets.

This posting is of necessity a brief one, as the laptops keyboard could soon be swamped by my perspirational overload once more.

A Little Gratitude

The early morning, as I lay abed, is dull and grey; for this I give thanks. My beloved announces that it has been raining, another cause for rejoicing. In the bedroom, the fan purrs and stutters; for the cooling breeze it supplies, I give thanks. Job’s comforter, courtesy of Radio 2, seems to be promising another very humid day; at this, I groan.

My beloved, who kept crashing out during her day off yesterday, actually managed to sustain her night-time sleep for a more reasonable time; for this I once more give thanks. I anticipate an easing of my glandular and muscular discomfort, which has been exacerbated by the recent heat wave and, I rejoice and give thanks for this day the Lord has made. Perhaps today, I can get back on course with my pacing.

“One step at a time dear boy”, I mutter to myself.

If you can't stand the heat ... get out of the garden!

The sunshine may look glorious, the phlox and the gentian are blooming in the miniature rock gardens and, more water lily blooms have emerged on the pond. The lily flower in a shaded corner of the pond, shielded from the sun’s full glare by some newly unfolding leaves, is thriving whilst the suns glare tells the more exposed plant it’s time for early closing. I’ve not even managed to sustain a full five minutes out of doors, just a fleeting visit to feed the fish and replenish the bird table and bird bath.

My body thermostat is such that I still manage to overheat on cooler days, so current temperatures are quite simply unbearable. Leaving a fan running, in the bedroom overnight, enabled a little sleep but, during the day, the curtains seem incapable of blocking out the sun’s excesses. Leaving the windows open, at the shaded side of the house, has no more effect on the temperature than keeping the double glazing firmly closed. As I slowly melt in the warm humidity, my scheduled attempts at restoring my concentration are quite simply doomed to failure and, it’s just an impossibly stupid idea that I should even contemplate taking a walk.

Even in my healthier days, during a vacation gardening job (whilst a student) I managed to succumb to sunstroke but, recent days have seemed much hotter than the ones to which I then fell prey.

Typing this brief posting seems to have utilised my total reserves of stamina so, I bid any readers a fond farewell.

Addendum to Which Theologian for IE browser users.

For those of you using IE6 browser, the full list of percentages per theologian on yesterdays postings may not have appeared (apart from a 'miniature table). Mozilla Firefox displayed correctly. For those poor souls who only use IE here is the listing that should have appeared.

Jurgen Moltmann 73%

John Calvin 73%

Paul Tillich 67%

Friedrich Schleiermacher 67%

Karl Barth 53%

Augustine 40%

Anselm 33%

Charles Finney 27%

Martin Luther 20%

Jonathan Edwards 0%

Which Theologian Are You?

Although I find the Moltmann rating very satisfactory, I find it rather a puzzle that John Calvin gets a look in. Probably it's because, as is the nature of this sort of quiz, one is unable to qualify the reasons for a specific rating to certain questions. The percentage of Tillich comes as no surprise! I know why Luther comes so far down my scale; it's to do with the centrality of "justification by faith".

You scored as Jurgen Moltmann. The problem of evil is central to your thought, and only a crucified God can show that God is not indifferent to human suffering. Christian discipleship means identifying with suffering but also anticipating the new creation of all things that God will bring about. Jurgen Moltmann 73% John Calvin 73% Paul Tillich 67% Friedrich Schleiermacher 67% Karl Barth 53% Augustine 40% Anselm 33% Charles Finney 27% Martin Luther 20% Jonathan Edwards 0% Which theologian are you? created with QuizFarm.com

Postcript to the dispirited blip

After yesterday evening’s slight downer, a traditional lazy Sunday has resolved any residual self-pity and, this dispirited blip, will definitely not be allowed to become an obstacle to progress. A few references to my lazily rewarding day can be found here.

In the meantime, a juicily herbaceous Pouilly Fume 2004 (Fournier Pere et Fils) accompanies our mid-evening's televisual entertainment.