Yesterday morning I had a waking dream, there to remind me to take it slow and certain, to step with confidence and keep my head up. Not to think too much about what is going on around my feet, not to notice the litter on the stones. Instead, to stay on the path, and walk steadily.

This morning, I thought, ‘How lovely, finally, to be free, to be relaxed and happy and to take my time and do what I choose, lots of lovely stuff!’ I decided while showering for my swim that, for the next thirty-five years, or as long as I have left, I would dwell on pleasant preoccupations, rather than the worrying kind that are my usual companions. And straightaway, as if to contradict me -‘No, you won’t!’ – my mind set up a trip, so that I slipped off the top step of the pool and ended up sitting sideways on the second step, jammed at an angle, my foot caught and twisted awkwardly. It hurt. In lots of different, awkward and unexpected ways, the pain is unpredictable. I tried swimming a couple of lengths and then gave up the struggle and got out, hobbling to the changing room on the arm of the pool attendant.

I was trying to laugh it off, because I know that this was just resistance.

Have you ever made a decision, such as, ‘I’m going to just get on with this!” and then something happens that makes it impossible? The computer printer jams, the intercom interrupts you, the pan boils over, and there you are, back in the old mood, the old pattern…..

Nowadays I call that resistance, and I do my best to overlook it. I want to stay positive and re-focus on my dreams, on my delicious preferences, and on looking after myself enjoyably. But resistance, which wants just to get back to the old mind patterns it recognises, would rather I just got back to what is familiar, and will set up all kinds of ‘accidents’ to bring me down again.

I won’t let that happen, so I am smiling. And while three guys were helping me as I inched home, and though my foot does wince, I am determined to ignore it. When I was being attended to, I tried to laugh, even as I cried with the pain. It was funny, actually, and I can see why it happened, but goodness, it was sudden and unexpected, and I felt rather an eejit reassuring everyone it was nothing to worry about, as they stood about with clip-boards and concerned expressions while I cried and laughed simultaneously.

Can anyone reassure me that yes, they understand exactly where I’m coming from? Does anyone else see life this way?


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