I know this brings to mind a story, and a film, but it also applies to life and I do that applying thing a lot, because the words are dynamically apposite. You might think they mean the same thing but they do not. Sense is a being thing whereas Sensibility is a doing thing. It requires active response. There is responsibility and it’s all about the ‘ability’ attachment, even if the ‘a’ decided to be an ‘i’ in this case. If I remember my grammar at all, I think that change is acceptable, even though grammar, it appears, is obsolete nowadays. On an official NHS site, re the Covid thing, it boldly announced that the Omicorn Virus is far more contagious than previous variants. I did sigh. I really did.
Moving on and to the point. I have really good friends visiting the island for five minutes and I want to meet them but I am frightened into retreat. Why is that? Is it because something profound has changed? No. The Omicorn Covid threat, in reality, was here last Wednesday and the week before and somewhere between last Wednesday and the week before I did meet with a lovely friend in a hilltop arts cafe to sit with her by the log fire over coffee and we did laugh. Oh, panic. Laughing is like a gale is bursting out of a mouth and we did plenty bursting. I remember thinking this. If our breaths were coloured, her’s pink I think, mine a dark blue grey, we both would have seen where it all went, where it landed, on her over there on table four, the collar of her coat, or him behind me on his greying locks or his beard and we could have dashed over to swat and flap and wipe and apologise, sending both her and him to the toilets for a punch or six of sanitiser. We could have shown sensibility. Let me dictionary you. ‘Sensibility – the quality of being able to appreciate and respond to complex emotional or aesthetic influences’. See? Action!
However, we are in a spin right now with Christmas coming and the wait for a political decision and it dithers us into indecision and indigestion. But if we pull back from that, the waiting thing, and consider from our own sense and sensibility, we can find the power within, the one guide we really need. Christmas is coming. We have made plans. Family, if allowed, are coming. Are we weak on this, or strong? Let’s dig down. Family are coming. If we had no political lead, what would we believe, whom might we trust? It always comes back to one thing. Our own selves. The joy of Christmas is all family, the smiles, the games, the moments and before that, the anticipation, the present wrapping, the secret plans. My belief is that we have bought into the Nanny State, and for many years. We don’t need a nanny. What we need is to take stock of how wise we are; all those years we learned and those years that learned us; all those times we saved the day, found the answer, stood strong and tall. Can you remember those times? Bring them back and study them.
I have in my diary a date next week for a writer’s group, led by an author I really admire. I planned to attend this coming week. I’m remembering the log fire, the great coffee and the sparkly staff. But my inner eejit is freaking out. Woa……..steady……..think……that’s what I do, with my hand up and my feets stopped. You went there last week. Now that sense,sensibility,action,decision is in the whirlwind of a looming political decision, you are slapped to the wall, quite flat and, to be honest, it is not a good look for you. Okay, I say, pushing off said wall, you are right. I must make my own decisions based on my own-ness. My inner eejit slinks off into the shadows and I find light. I find my sense and my sensibility. One is feeling, the twin demands action. I can feel my feets find fire, my head rise, my brain say “About Bloody Time”. I snort at that.
I will go. I will wash my hands, I will mask up. I will banish the indigestion of dither. I will live through this and so will you. Don’t wait for decisions. Make your own. T’is powerful and so freeing.