I have realised that we must all suffer at first to live a fulfilling life in the end. Diamonds are simply million year-old trees. It seems that artists in particular – be it painters, writers or creative types in general – have a pretty tempestuous life. But we come out stronger.
Yesterday I drove to Plumbridge as a trial run drive in preparation for a job I applied for to see if I would go for at least an interview. But I was going through a road past the Sperrins I had never been on before and was so consumed by fear; driving new places these past few years has been a forced exercise for me. But in the end, when heading back, I realised that driving on a road I wasn’t comfortable with for a part time job wouldn’t be worth it. The juice just isn’t worth the squeeze.
However, today, I went to the place in Magherafelt I used to live at and went gardening this morning and early afternoon. It was good to muck about with my old posse. I even heard from the gardening expert there that the soil contains serotonin. No wonder I felt better. 🙂
Now this evening I’m not attending the art class. I need to slow down the pace a bit. My uncle had a suspected heart attack and is in the Royal Hospital in Belfast. My health is my wealth, for now.