They don’t tell you this,you know when you come out of hospital.They don’t tell you that after nearly two weeks,you start to struggle with the night silence at home,and that seems to contribute to your irrational sleep patterns.Maybe it’s common sense and I just haven’t thought about it enough.
You see,you get so used to having your blood pressure taken,the noise from the people in the beds either side,the constant comings and goings of the hospital staff that it becomes a bizarre routine all of its own.Maybe routines are like that,they might appear odd to others,but to us they become our normal.
As the days since I came out of hospital become more,the memories appear to present themselves almost in a collage of electronic sounds.Yes,it’s true now that we are surrounded by electronic bleeps from out mobile devices,tablets or PCs.Sometimes ,I wonder if we can all become slaves to them quite innocently.These sounds inhabit a part of our Brain that alerts us,that”Who wants me now,or ,I’d better get that”,and that can be a strain on any human being.Getting back to the sounds of hospital,the bleeps are often part of a system of instruments used to monitor people’s vital signs.Being someone who concentrates a lot about sound,I think that I paid more than a healthy interest on these bleeps during my stay.As I don’t love ear pugs in my ears,my inability to compromise meant that I attuned too much to their rather peculiar sonic vibrations.
So,now I’m back home in my Dorset town,I find the silence ,at the moment,at least,almost monastic.It goes back to what I remarked upon earlier that routines can quickly become apparent in our life.They happen before you realise,then they cement in our consciousness.Its like people,we get used to them in our lives,just seeing the guy in the paper shop to chat about the world,or our own views and the exchange of simple stuff really about the weather and such,and when that is gone,we miss it.
So,this early morning blog has been about routines,just how we probably all have them,need them,and want them.Those routines can involve sounds,images,things to a degree,and,in my case,they involve people.As I get older,I feel my fellow humans deserve my attention ever more.You see,I don’t really do the great themes in life anymore.My sons do very much,and their interests astound me in their scale.Im more concerned about the fact that the lady’s cat opposite is getting older and I worry about the speed of those cars as they race past my driveway.It sounds very provincial,and probably it is,but I honestly feel that the little things matter.If that poor lady lost her cat,she would be beside herself,and life would just be that much worse for her.
So,I’m thinking that we often say “I like my little routines”,or even if we don’t verbalise it ,we saying it under our breathe.So,I’m looking forward to my little routines being reinstalled as it were.When I was a young boy,the Atlantic would smash the Cornish coast where I lived,causing regular damage,and in particular if it happened in the spring high tide season,you would get damage.However,you would rebuild ,repair,and get back to your routines.To me,I’ve been in a bit of a personal storm,and I have to rebuild ,restore,get back into my routines,all beit little ones again.However,I am fighting the temptation to be insular,that default or Pianists and organist who,by the very nature of the trade,have to devote thousands of hours to practise but can ,and do,become quite self orientated.
It’s a balance this rebuilding of routine,its delicate.Maybe I will get a lot right in the coming months,and maybe I will make mistakes,but truthfully,I hope that I’m good enough.Good enough for everyone that knows me ,and for the animals in my care.
Yes,my routine is “to do the little things,devotedly”!