Wriggling In

It was a big thing for me, leaving teaching. It had been part of my life for over 20 years. Suddenly, I went from full on days of activity, always on the go, being amongst crowds of people, and earning a very decent salary, thank you very much, to days of stillness, solitude and an intense feeling of worthlessness because I felt I wasn’t doing anything ‘useful’ or earning any money. And you spend a lot of time arguing with yourself about whether you’ve made the right decision.

I’ve come to think of the last six months or so as my ‘wriggling in’ time. I’ve been wriggling my way into a different way of life. It’s been like trying on a new dress, that looks good on the clothes hanger but you’re not quite sure if it’ll fit you properly. We’ve all done it, haven’t we? Made an impulse buy only to get it home and find it makes you look like a sausage in a sock. Haven’t we? Yes?? Okay, just me then. But you get the gist.

So you make alterations to the dress because pride won’t let you return it for a refund. You let things out, take things in, try a variety of accessories and adjust your gusset. (That’s VERY important - always take time to adjust your gusset in these situations!) You assess the colours of mood, the textures of feeling. Sometimes a line of buttons clicks into place, sometimes the zipper of ease gets stuck. Sometimes you feel like a spring chicken, back in your 20s, full of enthusiasm and oomph! Sometimes, the image staring back at you from the mirror of life looks very much like mutton dressed as lamb.

Slowly though (perhaps too slowly if you are of the impatient type) the fit of the fabric begins to fall into place, to drape just right. Your novel starts sliding easily from your keyboard because you’ve developed the habit of writing every day, like proper writers do. You finally decide on the City and Guilds Levels 2, 3 and 4 certificate and diploma sewing course you want to do because it makes you feel excited, that you can’t wait for the start date to arrive and you realise that, like writing, sewing has sat with you as a passionate companion for most of your life. (And you try VERY hard to buff away the smudge of regret that you didn’t take this pathway 30 years ago and instead think of the 30 years you, hopefully, still have ahead of you.) You start an art class. You read 13 novels in a month!

And because you still equate your usefulness and worth with monetary value (I know....it’s wrong...sigh...) you go for an interview (yesterday!) for a job that is only one day a week, maybe two, at a community care farm project less than ten minutes drive up the road from your house, where you will be helping people to garden and to cook, to enjoy the outdoors, to look after animals, to art and craft, to build things, and to learn about living through all these activities, which are activities that you already love doing yourself! The manager tells you she has ‘good vibes’ about you, that she thinks you’ll fit very well into the ‘farm family’ and you smile your way home knowing that the modest £55 you’ll earn for the day a week you work will be the BEST £55 you ever earned...

Yes, I’ve done a lot of wriggling in the last few months. Finally, though, life feels like it is fitting me nicely. With the help of a hint of Lycra!