Manual Labour

I have finally forced my garden in to submission following long periods of manual labour to :

  • clear away the weeds;
  • chop down branches;
  • jet wash the patio;
  • scrub the brick paving with a wire brush;

and then the nice bits:

  • of planting flowers;
  • hanging baskets;
  • buying and hanging :
  • wind-charms;
  • bird feeders;
  • bird boxes;
  • fairy lights
  • lanterns and candles.

The aching body, scratched arms, cut fingers, bruised knees have finally resulted in a place of beauty in which I can hope to spend some pleasant evenings having my meals outside or sitting on the bench reading a book or drinking a beer, or reclining on a sun lounger in my boxers!

However, it is the manual labour which has felt important through this period of time.

The physical effort, compliments the mental effort of living and for me at this time, it has been very noticeable.

Hard manual labour, especially for someone like me who works in a service industry, is an opportunity to feel my thoughts within my body.

It is as if my worries and pressures translate themselves from my head directly to my fingertips and toes.

My body, is its own ecology, it is its own island, its own universe and to feel in the body as well as in the head, is to experience  its full vigour; its vitality; its fruit.

My next blog will be: Trapped in a Cupboard

William Defoe

 

 

 

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