In these days of modern technology it’s completely normal for communication via the written word in rapid form, some use voice activated software, some type, some swype.
Writing is getting quicker and quicker unless like me one still uses a pen or pencil.
A little over four years ago my life was somewhat slower although still chaotic. And sad. Dad was in a nursing home. Mum visited him every day and I would go most days to see him and collect her. I got to get a sense of the place and the residents who were close by. Often it was traumatic. Black zipped bags would come and go in anonymous black vans. They contained the shells of people who had very recently been feeling, sensing, breathing the air that we share. A member of the world. Gone in a puff of smoke which I will write about another time.
This whole place is probably a story all by itself. I hated it. People, being people, often did their best and some did a great job, it’s complicated though isn’t it? Our lives affect how we behave with others, regardless of our best intentions sometimes. Every single interaction with others affects us and our mood, behaviours, actions. And we do often react differently when we think someone of power is watching or listening. And when we believe they’re not.
What we forget (or deny) is that we are all vulnerable at many times in our lives aren’t we: as babies, children, young adults, during illness and moments of stress or frailty, working, unemployed, married, single, homeless, renting, mortgaged, giving birth, worrying about our children or our parents, middle age, elderly and so on until of course at death.
In the care system (as in any profession) there are staff who perhaps aren’t really suited to it and who shouldn’t be there looking after vulnerable people.
Consider how we all might react when we’re tired, stressed and unhappy ourselves and we are being pressured by our manager to hurry up. And being on low pay trying to pay for everything. And sometimes when it’s just a job. If WE find it difficult to care for our loved ones, imagine how it might be for someone who is struggling with their own life and all these other problems to have the responsibility of looking after a person with severe difficulties and who is essentially a stranger.
It was heartbreaking.
It is heartbreaking.
From time to time I used to see a kind of movement in the air above my Dad as he lay in his bed. I saw the same thing over his neighbour who was also bed-bound. I saw it from the corridor and it was mesmerising. The air moved along the whole length of their body. It was as though something transparent and shimmering was hovering about a foot above.
In the room opposite there was a woman suffering. She cried out a lot – unheard or ignored? There was often no response anyway. The staff were all busy looking after everyone else. She didn’t seem to have been allowed to have a ‘buzzer’ which would call them. Buzzers sounded interminably throughout the building anyway.
I don’t know where the message came from. It could have come from any of the residents, or anyone who had previously been there. It might have come from the suffering woman who had no buzzer to call for help.
It just appeared in its entirety instantly on my phone one day, when I was visiting Dad, in an app that I used for making notes to guide my meditations. I find it sad, frightening, shocking and impossible to understand. I have no doubt that it came from the energy of someone who was or had been in the building.
It has to be the fastest piece of automatic writing I’ve ever seen.