Sitting on the other side of the fence is unpleasant in so many ways.
Dinner is a lonely affair.
The corridors are like something from a dream sequence.
And I am watching like a hawk. I am listening to every word and wondering if it is fact or opinion. I watching for compassion in the language and the nonverbal actions.
It has suddenly made me become very self-reflective of my own practice.
I have had to learn to trust, be patient, bit my tongue. I flit from understanding to demanding. I am learning to be grateful for small mercies. I am having to embrace the new normal which of course is not normal at all – that train was derailed long ago.