Wednesday, March 18, 2009

18th March.

I woke up about 5.20 this morning. I'd dropped off to sleep about 11.00.
I worked that out in a sleepy kind of way in the luxurious moments after waking.... it doesn't sound like much, but it triggered memories of the time I was ill and waking, at least being aware of waking, every 45 minutes or so sometimes.
This was because my heart wasn't working properly, and I was suffocating.
I remember those days feeling as if even a few hours uninterrupted sleep would be like the most amazing gift... as if some glimpse of a paradise beyond my reach.
And what I didn't know was that I was also waking up beneath awareness every minute or so. Because I was stopping breathing.
And I thought of all that, and the amazing gift of sleep.

Yesterday I went to see KYOTO, David Greig's new short play. Which opened last week at Oran Mor in Glasgow, and transferred to the Traverse. It's the first time they've taken part in the 'Play, a Pie, and a Pint' season, and it was lovely to see the place full at lunchtime.
Also, of course, there was the huge pleasure of seeing my name among the list of plays going on later in the season.
And my play, AN APPLE A DAY, in which I feel such pride.
But that's not why I'm mentioning this. I'm mentioning this because I went with a transsexual woman friend who is in the process of coming out at work, and living her life now to the full.
For the very first time.
And she came to my house before hand so I could authenticate her new passport photograph and also her new driving licence... and I so want to admire and celebrate her courage.
Mine too.
Another gift: the thought that maybe I helped her in this process.
And afterwards I went round to see dear Marni the beauty therapist, who is patiently removing the last of my facial hair.
A process which feels like she is giving me my own face.
And after that I called in at a charity shop to browse through their clothes.
And thought of how for years and years I didn't dare go into shops and browse through the clothes I wanted to wear and that would express my real self.
But it's so simple now.
And then I went to the Caledonian hotel, a posh place in the West End, and there in their grand lounge was a dear friend waiting for me beside an elegant afternoon tea.
And the dear camp waiter flirted with me. He called me 'young lady' and said I was looking very nice that afternoon.

And this morning, as I woke rested, I was thinking of all these things.
In a kind of deep happiness I wanted to share.
So I came up the stairs to this high beautiful room where dawn was breaking in the most lovely clear sky.
The birds are singing: and over the rooftop I can see the half moon.
Fading in the light of the morning sky.


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