Estelle was born in Australia and is a long-term resident of Aotearoa. Her formal qualifications, of psychologist and psychodramatist, have allowed her to practice over decades, mostly working with women, in groups or as individuals, focussing on trauma recovery. In her eightieth year, her focus is shifting away from being ‘the professional' and more towards involved mother of three, grandmother of seven, and almost great-grandmother of one. Of the many other ways she might describe herself, she has selected; loving partner, concerned responder to climate change, and emerging journal writer.
May 18th 2020- Lockdown Level 2
I have been behaving a bit like a Bower Bird, fancying a wide variety of titbits with very different characteristics, picking them up and storing them until I am ready to place them in some new configuration in the journal, working them over, tossing some out, gathering themes together, and sometimes upending the lot. Sometimes I discover surprising configurations, and then I want a visitor to my bower to share them with.
Here’s something I heard about on the BBC. It touched me deeply and is such a contrast to the accusative rants of You Know Who against the Chinese. The young doctor in Wuhan who raised the alarm quite early on, later contracted CoVid-19 and died. A fellow doctor reflected on being there with his friend, and the profound grief he and his colleagues felt. What astounded him, though was when he walked outside to explore a sound like a lamentation. Hundreds had gathered outside the hospital and were gently blowing whistles- just s few repeated notes, piercingly beautiful. Tonight I heard that the Chinese Premier said that if they found a vaccine, they would share it with the world.
Another titbit- my youngest son has just had his 48th birthday. He knew I was doing this workshop and to my delight asked me to write something, so I did and it was well received. Now my other two both in their fifties, will get a birthday letter at the appropriate time. All over the world, as well as the horror stories, I hear about people deepening their connection with one another. Perhaps a new foundation for valuing ourselves and the planet.
Today has been another lovely day- sunny and still. Enjoyable for us, as it is a rare treat to sit in the sun with my partner during the week. But there is a shadow.The reservoirs are very very low, and outside watering is banned. We are bucketing grey water and spreading it around the garden. We are both Aussies and long-term residents here, and this bucketing is something we have both done in Australia, but in mid-summer, not mid-autumn in the North Island. I am reminded of the apocryphal story of a billy full of frogs being cooked up on the stove, so slowly that they fail to notice until it is too late to jump out. Can we still jump, and to where?
There has been a deluge of writing during this Lockdown, considering this question in many forms, too much to read. So, Bower-bird that I am, I have assembled quite a range to browse through, wisdom, music, science, humour-some to share from my bower, some to treasure for myself.