Phew, it's 2026—hibernation mode deactivated!
I’m excited — I’m writing another book after a bit of a drought. Please feel free to join my happy dance.
Seriously, I’ve been trying to structure my current book for several months now. Unfortunately, after a burst of energy early last year, ennui and confusion sank their fangs into the jugular of my writer’s mojo, and I went back into a slough of inertia, if not outright despond.
Frankly, I’ve been plain confused about what I want to say or if I want to say anything at all in these oh-so-changing times.
It’s not that I haven’t had ideas; it’s just that when I start to run with one of them, so many different pathways open up that I quite literally get overwhelmed and can’t decide which to follow.
Did someone open Pandora’s Box?
All the ‘stuff’ that’s going on around us — it’s like someone found Pandora’s Box intact, read the cautionary tale about what happens when you open it, but thought it would be a winning idea to open it anyway and see if it’s as bad as legend would have it.
Just as an aside, was Pandora’s box, in fact, Pandora’s jar? There’s a long and boring story about Erasmus using the wrong word when he translated the story from Greek to Latin…zzzzzz.
Anyway, box or jar, it was left in Pandora’s care and curiosity drove her to open it. Epic fail! Imagine her face as she watched sickness, death and myriad other evils escape into the world. Even though she shut the box as quickly as she could — well, you would, wouldn’t you — the only thing she managed to shut back in was hope. At least it was the one thing humanity likely needed to survive the other horrors.
Eek! You’d have to think Pandora spent the rest of her life in therapy, coming to terms with her guilt.
The “Damascus Moment”
Anyway, back to me. In addition to Pandora Syndrome (as I like to think of it), I also had to make a couple of big life decisions — moving to a different region being one. Thinking about it, it was more of an all-of-life transformation. During 2025, time seems to have folded in on itself — It was hard to remember what happened and when it happened because the rhythm of my life had got so out of kilter. As a result, I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a lack of clarity.
For someone who can’t help herself from commenting on the things she sees, reads, and engages with, this uncharacteristic state of “no comment” has been deeply disturbing. Happily, I had a ‘Damascus moment’ a few weeks ago when I realised all of the above had pushed me into a sort of mental hibernation.
A lesson in torpor: survival of the fittest (and sleepiest)
Humans aren’t supposed to be able to hibernate, but I’m walking proof that “the science” is wrong on this.
Think about it. Hibernation is the thing that animals do to conserve energy so they can survive adverse weather conditions or lack of food.
But isn’t hibernation just one great big sleep? Not at all. They’re not just a bunch of lazy fur balls — hibernation isn’t technically sleeping, and hibernating animals ‘wake up’ periodically. Hibernation’s more a state of torpor. The animal’s heartbeat and breathing slow, and their body temperature drops significantly. But they are still capable of some activity, including suckling cubs.
Sounds scarily like my last year, except for the cub suckling bit. Oh, and hibernating bears don’t eat, drink or exercise for around 100 days. I’ll leave you to figure out which of those abstentions apply to my hibernation experience.
Wrangling the chaos into a memoir
So, if animals can hibernate to survive adverse weather, why not me? I’ve clearly been in a state of torpor, avoiding all the crap unleashed by the idiot who reopened Pandora’s box (or jar). I’ve been battened down in my imaginary leaf and twig-lined den. What? Has nothing changed, and I’ve woken up too soon? Well, even bears can only hibernate for so long.
In any case, as there is SFA I can do about any of the stuff I’ve been hoping to outlast, I figured it was time to emerge into those famous sunlit uplands. It’s time to hone in on the certainties and good stuff and consign confusion to outer darkness.
I’ve wrangled my book into a structure I think is a winner, and the words are now pouring out like a river in speight. I’m writing a memoir — Curve Balls, Rabbit Holes & Long Stemmed Roses — very much in the tongue-in-cheek style of my earlier work, Never Succumb to Beige & Other Tips for a Colourful Life. Getting my thinking straight on my book has worked miracles on the blog front too, and I feel reinvigorated, restored, and raring to go.
Lemonade, optimism, and the road less travelled
At the end of the day, it all comes down to attitude. As Henry Ford said, “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t — you’re right”. But I’m sure you get the point, so I’ll stop labouring it and move on. But I am excited. It’s going well. Energy is high, creativity is locked and loaded — the world is again my oyster. Hibernation mode is most definitely deactivated, and the lid is back on the box (or jar) with hope safely inside… for now.
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