TRY

Thursday 21st January, 2021

Up here in Scotland a podiatrist is allowed to open as it is considered a medical essential. Today I used a Christmas present voucher to have my session with the Newport podiatrist. I was there eleven months ago and should have been again since but the sessions are, for me, an expensive luxury. And what a luxury it was. I had to arrive on the dot of the time appointed. I had to wear a mask, to gel my hands and to be prepared to stay the distance required. The revolution, the unbelievable experience was that the man, clothed like a doctor Who character entering a poisonous planet, actually touched and dealt with my feet. I have not touched anyone nor been touched for ages as it is a danger zone according to the health experts. To me not touching is a mental health danger zone but I am a mere voice in the wilderness. Whatever, my toe nails were trimmed, my dead skin removed and various other things were happening with a scalpel. At the end he rubbed in various creams and unguents. Not only was it soothing and comforting but he acted as my therapist. We spoke of the virus, who does not? We spoke of Brexit, of Trump and Biden, of the economic impact of all this, of friendships and socialising, of loneliness and fear. It was an hour session so I do not think we were very profound but it was an enjoyable release of pent up opinion and I feel better for it.

At 10am I dreaded the thought of walking to the podiatrist as the rain lashed down. By 11am it had stopped but the wind blew. I walked via a Charity centre hoping for my favourite bread but they had sold out. Then to the Post Office to post a recorded delivery letter. It is a semi legal document trying to rebut some unpleasant and insinuating comments of ten years ago. It is a fascinating experience especially monitoring my own reactions to it all. The podiatrist's ministrations calmed me so perhaps the feet are a way to the nervous system. I know of people who claim you can tell the sickness and areas of stress and concern by feeling the feet. It is an extraordinary world and the human most complex and illusive.

After a short lunch of left over re heated curry, which had caused stomach cramps to the other participator but had allowed me to sleep very profoundly, I went for my walk. I took my litter grabber. On the way I bumped in to a lady I met two years ago and hardly ever see as she has moved house. She recognised me as I picked up litter for that was how we met when she was doing the same in a park those years ago. More therapy as we both denounced litter bugs and tried to analyse the selfishness thereof. Her young grandson was with her and simply said " Off with their heads!" She told me he had been reading Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Secretly and unkindly I agreed with him!

On my return home I looked up the poem composed by Amanda Gorman the poet who read at Biden's inauguration. I had heard her read it but wanted to read it myself. I found it filling me with hope and longing.

"And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us

but what stands before us "

" That even as we grieved we grew

That even as we hurt, we hoped

That even as we tired, we tried.."

As I grow older and fuss as to the time I have not used and wasted, to the talents I have failed to employ, to the mistakes and hurts I have caused and committed I take inspiration from those words and cry aloud 'I tried'.