I've found in my experience that what I write is intrinsically linked to how I feel. If I'm in a good mood then I'm raring to go, I have a lot to say and generally feel more inspired. Equally, when I get angry I have a lot to say. I like to vent how I feel and try to find people who feel the same way. Even if you don't write, I think this is common just to humans on the whole.
But when I'm sad, I generally don't write. I've never been any use at poetry or songwriting, so I can't spout any heart breaking lyrics that explain everything and make me feel any better. When I'm sad, I can't even write about other things and work on other projects. Hence, I come to the crux of this blog post, which is a bit more difficult to write than the all the others I've done put together.
Pretty much a month ago, I received the news that my uncle had passed away unexpectedly. I was on my own at the time, as I've been working in Glasgow over the summer and the rest of my family are further north. I got that punched-in-the-stomach feeling and basically just collapsed. My legs lost all strength and I couldn't really talk. From that point, it got harder before it got easier but now I feel I've gotten to a point where I can talk about it without tearing up. There's a quote I found that sums this up better than I ever could:
"When things go wrong and someone dies, feel the grief fully. Remind yourself how lucky you are. Consider the possibility that death could be totally fine anyway."
The first time I read it, I scoffed a little. With the pain I felt, how could death be "totally fine"? How would anything be totally fine? But I let the words sink in a little and thought about it a bit more. We were all hurting, all of our family and friends. But I realised that we were all hurting because we knew an incredible man. A man who loved his family and was so full of energy and humour that everyone who met him instantly felt at ease and welcome in his home.
I began thinking about all the games we used to play when I was only about four or five, and how having me up on his shoulders to play Jungle Book must have been exhausting. But he never complained, not ever. He would do anything for anyone and was always ready to help.
"Consider the possibility that death could be totally fine anyway."
Totally fine. Well I know that now my uncle will be fine. No pain, no trials. I know that my auntie and cousins will be fine, after seeing the rest of my family rally round and support them and even seeing how incredible they've been already. And although it's been hard, the fact that I'm writing again hints to be that I'm going to be totally fine too.
Instead of being unhappy, it's easier to think of the things that he loved - John Smith's beer, the smell of cigars, the Hull City Tigers and Monty Python.
Always look on the bright side of life. And everything will be totally fine.