Roots Reboot

I'm right down in the earth. I didn't set out to be here, but here I am. It's not such a bad place. I'm with roots, in the soil, from which emerges everything. I am with worms, snails, moles and rabbits, even the odd hedgehog. So I'm in good company.

It's taken me a couple of years to get used to being right at the base of things. I don't intend to stay here, but I guess you have to begin where you are. So, I begin. On the other hand, I could be delusional and I'd be happier, thinking I was actually at the top and looking down, but that would be a temporary kind of contentment, not really worth the effort.

So here I am, at the bottom of a tall tree, head on the ground, looking up into the branches. Above me are millions of green leaves, and tree fruit which look edible. I can see birds. I can hear insects, including bees, so there are still some alive - that's good. It doesn't feel too uncomfortable, really, but the entertainment is simple, and my tastes are human.

Before I got here, I spent 26 months looking after The Ancient One. She remains human, that is, she is not human remains, but still has a vigorous humanity, indeed, she makes jokes, enjoys hugs, and laughs, is even pugnacious at times, though that does become a problem occasionally. It was ever thus. Though her mind now wanders like the stream I can hear nearby, likewise in places full of old junk but still providing a viable habitat - as I was doing, in service to her advancing needs brought on by illness.

Now, I am skint, but not demoralised. If you could choose between money and morale, and it was a binary choice, which would you choose? I didn't make the choice to care, rather I succumbed to it. It was a matter of course, my path. I'm not a saint, nor especially kind, have no illusions. I complained bitterly to anyone who might listen, pitch in and help. I was exhausted by it and I hated it at times. But I accepted it, and I did it, and that's that.

The old trope that the Chinese word for crisis is also the word for opportunity seems so blandly pointless I couldn't be bothered to check whether that's true or not. It's enough that my brain has retained it, which as I have learned, is more than millions of people can do.

So I am at the bottom, both figuratively and literally. The only opportunity I can see from here is the option to stand up so that I don't get cold, as the damp from the earth I rest upon starts to leech into my body. Looking up into the branches is not a particularly original metaphor, but it will do, it's real. I need work, I need a place to live, I don't know where I will find either of these. Yes, I really am at the bottom. I'm not young, though strangely, I feel younger, lighter, than I was two years ago. I remind myself that I am capable, and that I am not alone. I am loved. I trust the future has a role for me, somewhere not too distant. I pray to a God I sometimes believe in to show me how to get there, and make me a more patient version of myself, so that I make the best use of this once-in-a-lifetime chance to begin again, to reboot my life.

Then I stand up, and bid you good day.

I'm going to find tea.