From the bed to the couch and back

The Shift Happens workshop at the Knowmads Greenhouse was super interesting. Now I’m felled. Sweating and shivering in bed. February‘s got me one more time.

Whenever I decide to slow down, I quickly fill the risen gap with different activity. My attention moves from the top of my to-do list towards less urgent matters, meaning nothing changes. And my to-do-list is long: new things get on faster than old ones go.

This first night was a poignant wave of misery, forcing me to truly slow down. I remember constantly keeping my breath at a rate fast enough not to faint, but slow and constant enough not to cough. I remember being dried out thirsty, but not heaving the will to stand up from under the blanket. And worst of all, I remember this unfathomable reoccurring dream waking me up all the time and making me wonder if time stopped to keep me trapped in this abominable agony for good.

Zuzana was down too. Same symptoms. Curious. If every step you take demands colossal imput, but the same is true for someone else, then a walk to the kitchen for one another can cause huge gratefulness.

And so a week has passed in which we saw bad movies in a state of slumber, while taking turns in making odd teas. Such times remind me of the time when I was a child. Lying on the couch, taken care of by my mom. They also remind that even if little has changed, I miss those days.

Experiences are piling up, but the young boy Gilles is still here to see time pass by.


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