Stuff that pops into my head where ever I will be and shared with you from my kitchen table.
Saturday, 5 January 2013
Shhh I'm having a moment, just me and my book.
2011 - 13 books. 2012 - 20 books. Which means 2013 - 27 books? Hmm we'll see, I'll be happy with 24, two a month wouldn't be bad.
My first read of the year, in a serendipitous fashion, reflects a new beginning of sorts, J K Rowling's first post-Harry novel. Whatever you think of it a a novel, it is safe to say that the author is a storyteller by nature.
The story of a rural town in the West Country which is struck by the sudden death of one of it's Parish Councillors is a powerful one. The charters are well rounded and in some cases beautifully loathsome, most are flawed. The action flips between the idyllic town and a neighboring estate, which is far less salubrious, with an almost careless ease. The story itself is one of those, things happen, but equally you would be happen just to read about the lives of the characters, at least that is how it feels.
I finish it today and will miss Pagford and it's inhabitants. I fine it hard to move between books, between the world the authors share with me. I also have no doubt that I will re-visit Ms Rowling's new offering in the future as I do so often with her Mr Potter and pals.
First though I must find a new landscape to inhabit, new lives to learn about, because there really are so many books, and time is so very short.
Friday, 4 January 2013
The Sun shines out their.........
I fail to grasp however, what constitutes heat of the moment for some people. If you are in the middle of a screaming match with someone, maybe you should be rethinking how you communicate but that is by the by, that is heat of the moment. What about a discussion with friends who have different opinions. How does that scale up to become a heat of the moment row? What about written communication, how does that situation leave you seeing red, worse still what about the global political arena?
This week the President of Argentina published an open letter in a number of British newspapers restating her belief that the Falkland Islands should come under Argentinean authority. This is not a new argument, not something that has come out of the blue. It is certainly emotive, but I fail to understand how some have managed to reach quite such a level of fury over it? Does the Sun newspaper not realise it is being trolled by an entire nation? Or am I being naive and is there reaction entirely based in the desire to earn money, to re-ingratiate themselves with the British wallet?
Whatever their motives it leave little hope that the wider public might make a move away from reactionism and begin to turn the other cheek. Especially since so many seem to think that the Sun shines out.............
Thursday, 3 January 2013
Atop the wooden hill, lies the elusive land of nod.
"Up the wooden hill to Bed-ford-shire", that always confused me as a child. I've been to Bedfordshire, it’s not on top of a hill made from wood, it is too big for starters. Mind you I was quite literally thinking as a child and getting my head round Jean-Luc Picard’s Captain’s log was tough, what on earth was he up to, creating the largest pyre in the known universe?
Anyway I digress. Bed time, sleep, beautiful, wonderful unconsciousness. Time for the mind to do what it does best to sort, to process, to apply balm to the worries of the day. It fascinates me the routines people go through to achieve a state they'll have no recollection about come the morning. It doesn’t surprise me though, I have too many of my own pernickety night time needs to be surprised by anyone else’s. A cool bedroom, a leaning pillow, nothing electrical in the bedroom, two trips to the loo, darkness and quiet. I thought the last two at least would conform to the norm but it seems not.
Some people have to go to bed early to quell a fear of not being able to drift off, despite no supporting evidence that they will struggle. Some can’t sleep with out the television or radio on. Some have to have warm feet or feel protected wrapped to sweltering point in an overly heavy duvet. Others need to cling on to the headboard as though they might fall off in the night.
There is something powerful about the need not to tempt fate when it comes to sleep, not wanting to jinx it. Which suggests that we all place great importance on it, know deep down in a primeval sense that we need sleep. Yet how many of us really take it seriously? How many of us actively ensure we get enough, actively ensure it is good enough, make the sacrifices to ensure we always wake up on the right side of the bed. One wonders how much the lack of a good nights sleep might be at the root of so many of the problems we face every day. Would we all eat better, exercise more, if out brains were rested enough to allow us to focus on these things? Would our relationships with friends, families, partners be better served by being alert and awake after a good nights sleep? Or is all of that a fantasy, is sleep fragile by nature. Are those pre-civilized instincts to remain alert to danger so deeply ingrained that we can’t get rid of them and our strange modern day rituals a way of relieving our natural inbuilt anxieties.
I am sure some boffin out there has studies many of these questions, but some how the power of our need to relinquish to such a unsafe state keeps it's secrets. I know I am certainly no expert, however I will continue my life long study in the hope of figuring my own relationship with sleep out. So up the apples and pears I go.
Wednesday, 2 January 2013
The morning after the day before the night before.
Welcome to 2013. Lets face it, yesterday hardly counts. I don't know about you guys, but yesterday was mostly spent eating cheese and chocolate, and chocolate and cheese. There were also movies and cats and the like but frankly it is mostly a sugar and fats induced blur.
So lets just write it off and get on with our new beginnings today.
Last year was a really weird one for me. There were a lot of changes in my world. Friends started families, or had their families grow. Other friends made commitments to build lives together, maybe start families of their own. 2013 looks set to hold much of the same, weddings, babies, new homes, new jobs, new dreams, on and up, on and up. I had changes in my life, but there were less tangible less identifiable. The kind of changes that sneak up on you. You don't even realise you are in the chrysalis let alone what your butterfly will look like.
I certainly found some pieces of the puzzle, not the ones I expected or the ones I had realised were missing. I learnt that I can think for myself, that I might have opinions Which might seem odd, but it genuinely was a revelation. I learnt how to be calmer, more measured, I also learnt the thinks that challenge my calmness the most. I learnt that it doesn't matter how well you know yourself, sometimes stuff takes over and you will surprise yourself both for the good and bad.
I am not setting any new years resolutions this year. Instead I am setting myself a challenge. Stop sweating the small stuff. For now though I am just going to go to bed and hope I sweat out the fat and sugar, doubt it I think I might have to go for a run tomorrow.
Tuesday, 1 January 2013
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
So 2012, it wasn't quite what I thought it would be. There were too many goodbyes. There were some moments were love shone brightly. There was unfulfilled promise. Though it is never too later.
I am immensely luck to have wonderful, intelligent friends, both in my life physically and those who I have met online. They get me through, keep me grounded and call me out when I need it. Never-the-less, and despite more help than I believe I deserve, I still don't make things easy for myself. In 2012, in every year, my worse enemy, the thing that holds me back the most is myself.
There is of course every possibility that I only think I am being held back, but I would rather fail for trying than fail for not. So though the turn of the year is not really a beginning or and end, maybe it can be a change.
If all else fails I will get at least two pretty dresses out of 2013, and I'll take that as an early win.
Sunday, 9 September 2012
Holibobs
It is that time of year, well actually that time of year is almost pasted and I am running slightly late. Never-the-less I am off on holiday in less than a week. A proper holiday, for a whole week, in the sun. One where I have very little responsibility other than making sure I remember to eat and that I apply adequate sun cream, to be honest though I'll probably get reminded about the sun cream. I am becoming a God-mother during the holiday, but I think I pretty much just have to turn up to that, the responsibility comes later.
I haven't been on a beach holiday for years, I've not been on a holiday where the onus was to do as little as possible, for years. The last time I went on anything resembling a beach holiday was when I went to collect my little brother from America after his year Uni placement. It was a wonderful get away and we did visit beaches, both coast of the USA in fact. However I did very much have the responsibility of not only getting him home, but also making sure he was coping ok leaving somewhere he clearly loved so much.
I'm an adventurer at heart. I love exploring, doing, finding out. I tend to go on holidays of discovery, be it discovering the terrain on an activity holiday or my Dad and I discovering that you can spend 3 out of 4 day on a city break totally lost because that alley looked really interesting. Equally however I am also knackered, wore out, totally and utterly exhausted. I love doing, and seeing and being involved, but those who know me or are regular readers will know I also have a habit of biting of more than I can chew and my oh my do I need a break.
The though of actually having said break is so exciting.........and completely terrifying. What am I actually going to do with myself, will I be able to sit down for five minutes, how do you do this relaxing thing? I have been trying to practise, I'm not sure I am very good at it though. So far today has been a practise day and I have done the laundry, washing up and watering. I've had a sit down and a cuppa as well though. Now I'm sitting here writing, does that count?
The question is, what is relaxing, what counts as winding down? If you are fairly sedentary anyway, does relaxing mean more sitting, or less? If like me you are constantly, yet not always effectively, burning nervous energy, is trying really hard to sit still relaxing? Or is it about doing something that allows your mind and your body a bit of freedom to just be, even if you are still bimbiling about?
I guess at the end of the day, as long as I come away from it feeling refreshed, recharged, ready to take on whatever the next few months have in store, that is the most important thing. I am hugely grateful that I have amazing friends, who put up with me despite my inability to sit still and probably have a better idea of what is good for me than I do.
If you have a sec share your thoughts of what it is to unwind and chill out. I am going to go and dig out my swimming cozzie but I promise I am leaving the ironing until tomorrow.
Thursday, 16 August 2012
A Safe Space
Maybe I'm tired, maybe my job is getting me down a bit, maybe I have simply taken on a bit too much, it's something I tend to do. There are lots of things which, on their own or collectively, might be causing my current mood. What I am pretty sure is I should not be putting this out into the world, but do you ever get to the point where you have to do 'something'.
I'm home alone after a lovely meal with my Ma and Pa. I've just finished doing all the things I do every day to try and keep the space I occupy calm and comfortable to be in. I have just about managed to fit everything in today, everything I want to, need to, should be doing, I'll admit I've sort of lost grasp of which is which. I'm not feeling very balanced at the moment, when a large part of your brain is taken up by unadulterated blind panic it is hard to keep everything on track. Keeping check on my day to day, crazy lady list of what is OK and what is disordered thinking might have slipped a little.
So here I am bumbling around jobbing jobs in my kitchen before bed listening to one of my current favorite albums. When a line from a song I've listen to hundreds of times suddenly jumps out and centres itself in the cacophony of anxiety booming around in my skull.
" These are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world"
Maybe it hits on the root of the problem, maybe I'm just looking for something to tie the noise together, maybe I really have finally gone off the deep end. Heck one of the other songs is about shopping bags and it reduce me to floods of tears, my brain chemistry is clearly not how it should be*.
*fucked
Whatever the reason, that one line grabbed me. Who are the people who make me feel safe in the world? Now I have not set out on a war path to name and shame, or even to passively aggressively highlight. I am not pointing any fingers, I know how unbelievable hurt my family would be to hear this. I'm just talking about how I feel. I don't feel safe, there is no-one I can go to*, who can make the darkness go away. I'm bloody petrified all the time, I've been having episodes of generalised anxiety for a while. I 'd put it down to specific things, having a row, having a big bill come in, my job being a bit rubbish, again. I don't know when it took up permanent residence, but over the last couple of days I've realised it is always there. I guess it's like a mild tinnitus, you only really notice it's full force when it's quite and you are alone. Those are the times when it washes over me like a wave.
* Not because of them, because of me.
Money's tight, the house is really hard work, my job's rubbish, but it's not a single thing. It's the debilitating realisation that you are never going to be anything, never going to achieve anything of meaning. It's being full to bursting with ambition and drive to be awesome, but having no outlet for it. I want more than anything to do something important, and have a family. The important thing doesn't have to be grand or public, but I need to feel like I have made a positive difference. Having a family, a lot of people want that, but the clock is tick, tick, ticking away and the reality is still but a speck on the horizon, a speck which some days feels like it is retreating.
Maybe I'm just used to other people solving my problem, maybe my standards are too high, maybe I'm just allowing myself to be a victim of my own fantasies. I know there are people out there with no-one who makes them feel safe, who are in far worse situations than me. People who live in poverty and squalor with no hope, and no lifeline. In the face of that I should man up and crack on, but we all know that's not how it works. You can know full well how good you have got it and still be unable to drag yourself off the sofa. Maybe I am kidding myself that all this is real, maybe it is the manifestation of my poor broken brain. I am sure I will get told soon enough if it is.
Whatever it is, I know I will carry on. I know that I'll still get up every morning, I'll go to work, I'll more or less do all the things that need to be done. I'm either stronger than I think, or not as bad as I imagine. Maybe I'll get over all my own insecurities and find a way to live the life I want and be happy. In the dark of the night with only a cup of tea to keep me company I can't see it, but no-one knows what is round the corner, especially those of us without a flash light.
I could go on all night, but I fell a little less heavy for now and no matter how bad it gets I still have to get up and go to the office in the morning.
Give yourself a god star if you figured the song out.