First Published March 11, 2014
As I was walking with Zepp this morning I was thinking about the writing of illness narratives. It was a blue and sunny early autumn morning with a cool blustery wind carrying the mixed smells of conifers and eucalyptus and lots of bird song. This is a walk Zepp and I do each day. Sometimes it takes an hour and we do the circuit and boldly breast off into the blue distances. Sometimes it takes 15 minutes and that’s all that’s possible for that day. Small steps taking each day as it comes.
As I passed this driveway I noticed the grass shadowing against an old unpainted bit of fibro fence. The entrance looked a bit neglected, fence a bit saggy, letter box on a rakish lean, iris that had been planted at an earlier time had shrivelled up in the dry summer and only the weeds were doing well. It had me thinking that this is a bit like a small illness narrative I might want to make news of of on any particular day. I would wander along on the morning walk, having a think about the bits I might want to bring some attention to, might think were worth considering in the writing or telling of an illness narrative.
Discerning what bits to feature, what bits to exclude, what bits would be relevant for todays musings. People telling illness narratives will often narrow down and narrow down their focus to bring forward what is most pressing, most wanting to be heard, on this particular day.
If the narrator/author is lucky there will be people willing to listen to this fragment, acknowledge its part in the telling of this life in process, share ideas, distill the heart of the story, make richer the possibilities for the next few steps understanding that today’s discernment becomes a rich and powerful part of tomorrow’s energy.
Or so it seems to me today ……. tomorrow who can tell.
Illness Narratives 