running past primroses

when I was gingerly setting up this blog in November 2013 I wanted a blog name and an image that symbolised hope. new directions. new beginnings. it was early winter outside and very much winter in my heart. I hoped that there was a chance for me to find a different way of living. hence the primroses. by the way my name is also ‘primrosep’ taken from the phrase ‘primrose path’, as old Shakepeare feller me lad described the easy path to eventual self destruction. which is very much where I was headed otherwise.

if you are kind enough to remember some of my earlier posts in February and March you will recall that I had an injury which kept me out of my trainers for a little while prior to my half marathon. the first time I felt strong enough after that injury to go for a little tentative run was the first time I saw the earliest wild primroses flowering in the hedgerows. I felt as if Nature was cheering me on, and ever since whenever I have seen a primrose tucked away on a sunny bank I have taken it as a private ‘keep going on your sobriety!’ message just for me.

because let’s face it when we set out on the sober journey we are going on blind faith. faith that things can be different. if only, perhaps, because they can’t get any worse. and if we make it through the grey winter days then we are immensely rewarded a hundred times over for our efforts.

I am off on a little 10k this morning. no big time goals here. just getting round, really. the weather forecast is abysmal. it’s going to be raining. I mean, really raining. the forecaster on the local evening news probably fought his bosses unsuccessfully to use the phrase ‘like buggery’. but hell, it’s only rain. the primroses are still flowering. I will keep looking out for them.

to be honest there has been a fair bit of rain in day to day life recently. no changes in anything major, just usual life crap like plumbing disasters and customers not paying their bills on time. and when I look back through my blog I see small and large triumphs, but not the stepping in dog shit, not the recording of me sitting on the floor crying by the washing machine because I am so. damn. tired at 4.45pm and how the hell am I going to get through the rest of the day? moments. because those crappy situations are always, always going to be there. and focusing on those moments was one of the reasons that Wolfie got his claws into me. I am choosing, deliberately choosing, to focus on the good bits. so if this blog sometimes seems like a parade of tomato seedlings and newly baked bread it is not because there are not blocked lavatories in my life, too.

I undertake to share on here struggles that I feel worth recording for my own peace of mind. but I would rather notice the primroses than the rain.

read a great quote online yesterday and now I can’t find it. please let me know if you know the source and I’ll link to it. Here goes:

‘I would rather spend the rest of my life sober, occasionally wishing that I could have a drink, than the rest of my life drinking and constantly wishing I could be sober.’

for me, my friends, them is the choices.ย which is why I have packed my bags and left for Soberville. happy Sunday, everyone!

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