Week 16: A month in the country
29 Jul 2011
July 28th:
Picture caption: walking at Castle Neroche in the Blackdowns, a mile from where my ancestors lived in Dommett, Buckland St. Mary
Having passed the 100-day mark, I’m now counting the time since my diagnosis of ‘incurable’ lung cancer in weeks. So that’s 16 weeks gone and I’m still here, still feeling well (most of the time), and still full of determination to keep it that way.
The week after the 5th chemotherapy was, as expected, pretty tough. I was tired, weak and mildly nauseous for 7 days. As in previous chemo cycles, the physical effects eventually beat down my spirits. But then, following the now familiar pattern, they lifted and I felt well and more positive again.
I’m now planning a therapeutic summer break – a chance to change fundamentally the way I live my life. My reasoning is that if I can change the diet, way of living, habits, and mentality that allowed the cancer to take root in my body, I will be better able to persuade it to leave.
Inspiring novel
I’ve been inspired by reading J.L. Carr’s short novel ‘A Month in the Country’. This follows the experience of the narrator, Tom Birkin, a World War One veteran who’s been psychologically scarred by experience of trench warfare. A former artist, he spends a month restoring a medieval church mural in rural Yorkshire. As he immerses himself in his work, and in the local community, he – almost imperceptibly – begins to heal and to recover his purpose.
It is a very English book: rooted in the countryside, the history of the church, in the continuity of a small, rural local community. But it is earthy, sometimes harsh, and not at all sentimental. The people he meets have their own problems and must work hard at their lives and relationships to get through each day. None are completely successful but they take strength from one another.
It is a beautifully written, spare, under-stated book with a clever twist as Birkin finds out more about the artist who painted the original mural that he is now uncovering for the first time for centuries.
So, I’m now embarked on my own ‘month in the country’ down in the beautiful Blackdown Hills of Somerset and East Devon. The plan is to immerse myself in simple, physical activities: walking, cycling, gardening, and practical, physical tasks. I’d also like to take a course in something absorbing and new to me, like furniture-making. Something that engages the mind in practicality and function, as well as beauty. What could be better than making things from wood?
Slowing down
The aim is to slow down, to avoid stress, to eat simply but well, to breathe the fresh country air and to heal myself. I want to learn about the trees and the flora and fauna. I want to develop patience, perseverance, and greater ability to observe my natural surroundings.
For too long, my journalistic and city-based life has involved rushing around, absorbing lots of information quickly yet not retaining it for long, meeting deadlines, juggling tasks, googling, tweeting, ticking-off items in ‘to do’ lists, and trying to keep up with never-ending developments.
Knowing that the time left to you may not be as long as you had expected offers a chance to really focus on what really matters. There are so many things left that I have not done, so much that I don’t know. The days are too precious to be spent moaning or being frustrated by the daily annoyances that, inevitably, get in your way when you are constantly rushing about.
So, I plan to immerse myself in the ‘otherness’ of life, taking more notice of what is around me rather than rushing past it. Where better to do that than in the Blackdowns with its patchwork, churt-spattered fields, its varied woodlands, thick hedgerows, moors, bogs, rivers, streams, high-banked lanes, sheep, cows, historic churches, country pubs, and quiet cycle-ways and paths?
I’ll let you know how it goes….but my blog posts may be a little less frequent over the rest of the summer as I also intend to spend a lot less time sitting at the computer!
And the bad joke...
And finally.... a joke supplied by my friend Alban:
.......The Greek Government is stopping production of taramasalata and
humous in an attempt to avoid a double dip recession!
User Comments
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David Price - 29 Jul 2011
A life more in balance...
Mike, you're on a path familiar to many cancer dwellers (myself included): seeking to get more balance in your life, and to concentrate on what really matters.
I used to think a life more in balance would make a difference to the cancer, but now I'm not so sure. No matter. To make the most of the time we have left (however long or short) and with the ones we love is all that really matters.
So, have a great summer and be well, my friend.
Neville - 29 Jul 2011
Pubs and furniture
Mike
I live in Combe St Nicholas - followed your work for many years. Always first rate.
www.priory.n-somerset.sch.uk
Been reading the website + blog - clearly never knew the local connection Dommet / B St Mary
I'll buy your first piece of furniture...if you are a seller!
Howley best local pub in my view but give the rest a go...
Best wishes
Neville
Heather Stack - 29 Jul 2011
A Month in the Country
I am writing to wish you well in your month in the country. Your reasonings are commendable and inspiring and I hope the time ahead allows you to accomplish all that you wish for, and more besides.
I think, actually, I may have seen a film rather along those lines, based on the short story, but it is dim in my memory so I am not quite sure.
In some of my work with specialist colleges for young people with learning difficulties and/or disabilities, I have visited colleges set in the most tranquil, healing of landscapes. It would seem impossible not to be healed, in some form or other, simply by one's presence in the magnificence of nature. Ruskin Mill in Gloucestershire, is one such place, where students learn ancient crafts and arts, based on the methods employed by our ancestors, over many hundreds of years. I believe also they do much for the ocmmunity, and for life-long learners, to the age of 99, according to their publicity material. Basket weaving, trout farming, metal-work, glass-blowing, tending river beds and woodland, ploughing with heavy draught horses and seeing the corn ground to make the bread that is eaten in their cafes or market shops, are all part of their holistic focus, with the individuals at the heart of all their industry.
In my family, currently, there are several close and more distant relatives, enduring chemo and radiotherapy. Cancer seems the curse we cannot escape in this modern age, and perhaps is something we most fear and are afraid to speak of. I was disconcerted to read some while ago, about research into when cancer first became part and parcel of our society. I believe it was traced badk to the late 19th Century, but could not be seen earlier, suggesting that its origins are lifestyle and environmentally induced. But forgive, I do not know all the details, or the origins of the study.
Someone commented recently, on Twitter, that they were heading off for a retreat, prior to being ordained into the Church of England. I pondered how rare is the chance in most lifestyles, most occupations, to retreat from the world, and emerge again, more rested, assured, more prepared to face all that lies ahead. Aside the religious nature of the retreat, there are many lessons to be learned from a quiet, contemplative approach to life that would benefit many, in all contexts and walks of life.
Finally, despite that actually, I perhaps have not always agreed with your educational comment, here you have said things that strike at the heart of all our lives, blessed with good health, or beset with illness and disease. I do wish you the very best and shall look forward to your return.
with my very good wishes
Heather
Ian Nash - 29 Jul 2011
A Month in the Country
Of course, the first thought in all of us on reading this blog is: do we really have to wait for a life-threatening illness in order to think and act this way? Or will we learn from it and act now?
Have a great Month in the Country Mike - and thanks again for everything.
Ian
Elizabeth Stawicki - 29 Jul 2011
month in the country
Dear Mike,
Have a great time and say hello to the sheep for me! (They always look so pleasant). Am looking forward to your missives when you return.
Your pal in Minnesota.
Elizabeth
Linda Clark - 29 Jul 2011
Always learning.
Mike - lovely to read your latest news. I've been thinking about you lots and wishing that all is still positive which it seems to be. So pleased to hear that you will be enjoying and learning about the countryside and all its wonders I must come down and do a spot of birding with you but Chrissy should know a few already especially little owls...Furniture making is great I can thoroughly recommend it I have a few plans if you are interested. Take care and enjoy yourself. Much love. Linda
Kevin McGrath - 31 Jul 2011
You
Very uplifting blog. Thank you.
Footie season about to start, so for more inspiration let me know when you are ready to join me for a game at QPR.
Keep fighting!
All the best.
Steve Bates - 31 Jul 2011
Bad joke?
Bad joke? That's one of the best I've ever heard! Keep 'em coming...
Roslet - 31 Jul 2011
Mike - you made me groan out loud. Hope you find a good hobby, agree that working with wood may be the one, it is so organic when it comes together... I take it you will be turning rather than mitring...
Rebecca Hanson - 01 Aug 2011
Just being
Just being.
Not striving.
Not being accountable.
Just being.
Having time to notice.
Having enough time not to worry when things go 'wrong' because it doesn't matter because they aren't 'wrong' they are just things which are happening because time is in charge.
Having time to discover what Joe Campbell meant when he said 'follow you bliss'.
This all involves going with the flow in a way you can't plan far ahead. You can't plan where it will be or where it will take you.
If you feet itch - scratch them.
Tune in to the circularities in logic which violate time and space.
Have fun.
Communicate with children without speaking. Let them teach you something new.
But if the whole experience does your head in - leave it and come back - take it in bite size chunks. If it doesn't feel right it's not where you're meant to be. And that's part of the point.
Jane and David Stabler - 02 Aug 2011
A month in the country.
Lovely picture Mike. You look very chilled. Thinking about you and Chrissy every day and sending positive thoughts. New Brighton and Hove Albion stadium is beckoning you for a visit. Come see us soon...love to cook you both a good lunch and go for seafront walk (as well as football talk with David.)
Philip Douch - 05 Aug 2011
Hi Mike
Philip and Jane here. Came across the blog by chance with a hell of a thump. So sorry to hear your news but also really pleased to hear your progress. Hope your quiet month is really restorative.
Jokes are the best I can offer - no Dr Dr ones, but a nature one seems apt (but probably already known). What do you call a boomerang that won't come back? A stick.
And a vaguely educational one. Man goes into a library. Man - Can I have a burger please? Librarian - this is a library, sir. Man - (whispering) Sorry. Can I have a burger please?
If they don't make you laugh, at least you can take consolation from the fact that you know much better jokes than those.
All our love, Mike. P and J xx