Magma in the heart - a super-volcano of emotion

It's getting harder and harder to breathe.  It really is.  I have a huge pain in my chest, lodged in my heart, and it won't shift. Today it's beautiful on Exmoor, the sun is shining and the garden is looking soft, shy around the edges as if someone started to rub them out. Green blends into green, so many shades of green - there aren't enough words for green. Nowhere near enough.  Not in English.  Is there a more verdant language I could learn?  I feel the urge to speak in Greenish.  Did you know that there are more shades of green recognised by the human eye than any other colour?  How come we do it such a disservice?  Maybe because we are more enamoured of grey? 

Mind you, look at this - a Colour Thesaurus!  Not bad, not bad...but still...

The house hasn't sold yet.  Maybe I am holding onto it too hard?  However much I tell myself that moving is good, moving on is good, change is good, my heart sobs at leaving this place.  Yes, it's a wilful house, a tricksy house, but it is just so damn beautiful.  And, you know me, I fall in love so hard, so fast...with houses.  

Moving to the city will be...different.  Moving to a very small, very normal house, will be...different. I tell myself I don't need space - I can find space in my mind - but still... 

So, in the meantime, I am still shedding, trying to cast off all the 'stuff' that can be forgotten in a large house but can't be hidden away in a small space.  It's not just physical, is it?  It's not just a question of piles more books to be given away.

And I went on Pinterest, as you do, looking for some kind of wayward oracle (even though I find it harder and harder to believe in oracles these days) and found this (left).  And there's truth in that, I feel.  I cling, I cling by the very nibbled-down remnants of my fingernails.  

I think I'm calm; I think I'm being all chilled and Zen but, you know, it's bullshit.  Underneath the surface, it's all bubbling like bloody magma.  I'm a sodding volcano. 

Talking of which, I am having BIG volcano anxiety at the moment.  It's been floating around a fair bit for the last few months but really erupted as James was teaching me about natural 'disasters' as part of his geography revision.  

'You know about Yellowstone, right, Mum?' he asked.

'Sure,' I said.  I went there, way back when I was 20-something, as part of my crazy 'around the USA in 21 days' trip.  

'You know the whole thing's a caldera, don't you?  You do know what a caldera is, don't you? Yellowstone is one freaking supervolcano, right?'  

Yup, I knew.  But I think I had conveniently blanked it from my mind.  We talked about what would happen if it blew - and, you know, it's scary freaky.  

'Where would be safe?' I asked.

'It would affect the whole world,' he said, sadly. 'But they reckon it's not that likely it's going to blow any time very soon,' he continued, trying to be comforting (since when did sons have to comfort their mothers?). 

And, as I sat here, writing this post, I began to wonder - I was talking about magma, wasn't I?  Not lava?  So I Googled and the first hit was less than reassuring...have a look.