[Miscellany]
Monday, February 24, 2014
What I Saw When I Was Looking
It's not often I'm in church, but today was a special occasion and I
found myself there, sitting somewhere in the back with a good vantage
point to people-watch. A woman comes in and sits in a church pew by
herself. In only a few moments she is flicking her way through the
prayer book and looking around nervously. Mass starts and a little
while later a tall, distinguished looking man comes in herding his two
young daughters right next to the woman.
They are sitting there together now; woman, eldest daughter, youngest daughter, man - like a row of perfect dolls all together on the shelf. Her face lights up in recognition as she greets her eldest daughter and lifts her onto her lap kissing her numerous times with enthusiasm. Soon, the woman starts doting - she is petting her child's arm, she is fixing her hair clip, she is kissing her, she is stroking her cheek. The woman; mother, is in love. I can tell by her gentleness and her caring and the way she touches her daughter but the smile that comes from within says it all. I can feel the love from three rows behind and 7 seats to the right.
I can only assume the tall, bespectacled man is her husband. He is attentive only to the sermon and priest. He watches the altar with seriousness and absolute absorption; occasionally scratching at his shirt or fiddling with his watch. I continue watching the woman though as she is a much more interesting subject. I keep noticing that every so often she will look up at her husband and smile. It's the same smile she gives her daughter but even more powerful, if possible. She is absolutely besotted with this man; that forwards-starer. She looks at him sideways, then she fixes her daughter's hair, then she looks at him again and grins and then looks down and immediately back up again and beams at him. It's a smile that lights up the room, to use a cliché. She flutters her eyelashes but she is not trying to flirt. She blinks at him. She stares. She sighs. But he stares straight ahead at the altar, oblivious to her and oblivious to everything except the priest's ramblings.
After a while I stop watching them, finding more interesting subjects elsewhere but about halfway through the mass I glance back and notice that the woman has shuffled over sideways and planted herself next to her husband. The kids are now both to her left. He is relaxed, I can tell by the way he sits and she is leaning slightly into him, almost draped over him; as draped as you can get in church on a Sunday anyway. They are clearly together. They are clearly comfortable and loving towards each other.
I wonder how long they have been together. The eldest looks about 4 years old. It must be years. But for all the years they have behind them and those yet still to come he will never know just how longingly and lovingly she looks at him when he's not paying attention. Rather, to qualify he will never know just how besotted she was with him on Sunday 23rd February 2014. Never! I wonder a lot about the things we never see in those around us and those we take for granted because of assumption. I wonder about all those unsaid moments and those things we never notice because we're too enthralled with other rambling ideas.
They are sitting there together now; woman, eldest daughter, youngest daughter, man - like a row of perfect dolls all together on the shelf. Her face lights up in recognition as she greets her eldest daughter and lifts her onto her lap kissing her numerous times with enthusiasm. Soon, the woman starts doting - she is petting her child's arm, she is fixing her hair clip, she is kissing her, she is stroking her cheek. The woman; mother, is in love. I can tell by her gentleness and her caring and the way she touches her daughter but the smile that comes from within says it all. I can feel the love from three rows behind and 7 seats to the right.
I can only assume the tall, bespectacled man is her husband. He is attentive only to the sermon and priest. He watches the altar with seriousness and absolute absorption; occasionally scratching at his shirt or fiddling with his watch. I continue watching the woman though as she is a much more interesting subject. I keep noticing that every so often she will look up at her husband and smile. It's the same smile she gives her daughter but even more powerful, if possible. She is absolutely besotted with this man; that forwards-starer. She looks at him sideways, then she fixes her daughter's hair, then she looks at him again and grins and then looks down and immediately back up again and beams at him. It's a smile that lights up the room, to use a cliché. She flutters her eyelashes but she is not trying to flirt. She blinks at him. She stares. She sighs. But he stares straight ahead at the altar, oblivious to her and oblivious to everything except the priest's ramblings.
After a while I stop watching them, finding more interesting subjects elsewhere but about halfway through the mass I glance back and notice that the woman has shuffled over sideways and planted herself next to her husband. The kids are now both to her left. He is relaxed, I can tell by the way he sits and she is leaning slightly into him, almost draped over him; as draped as you can get in church on a Sunday anyway. They are clearly together. They are clearly comfortable and loving towards each other.
I wonder how long they have been together. The eldest looks about 4 years old. It must be years. But for all the years they have behind them and those yet still to come he will never know just how longingly and lovingly she looks at him when he's not paying attention. Rather, to qualify he will never know just how besotted she was with him on Sunday 23rd February 2014. Never! I wonder a lot about the things we never see in those around us and those we take for granted because of assumption. I wonder about all those unsaid moments and those things we never notice because we're too enthralled with other rambling ideas.
Labels: Lloyd Dobler moment, thoughts
Monday, September 02, 2013
Pontoon
Sometimes my conversations with MVOR are inconsequential, they float away into the atmosphere as soon as I leave the comfort of that cosy little room. Other times the conversation has stayed with me dancing on my shoulder and poking me with a pitchfork like a little devil so I never forget.
The Archetypes conversation we had last week has lingered around me and refusing to leave.
Like all our conversations, this started somewhere rather remote and eventually meandered in that same way it usually does, past the inadequacies of my upbringing and taking a right through my lack of self esteem and stumbling somewhere near the babbling brook of discontent until we reached the fairytale discussion.
If you think about it, we are all in our consciousness and at the very core a collection of archetypes. That is how our point of reference for ourselves and the way in which we size up and identify each other. Every story has its wicked witch, its naive traveler, a caregiver, a Prince. There are those that look one way and act another like our friend The Beast and there are those that without doubt are exactly who they appear to be, like Snow White. Love it or hate it archetypes are important to us. How else would you know what I meant by Perfect Mother unless you already had an idea in your mind of what that would entail? Even if your own Mother wasn't perfect at all, you would still have a projected ideal in your mind of what she should have been.
The fairytale discussion began with an unflattering description of someone in my life as the wicked witch from Hansel and Gretel. MVOR agreed that this sounded consistent with my observations about her in previous discussions and so if that was true when who was I?
As the leading lady in my own sorrowful story you'd think that this would be an easy question to answer but I couldn't reconcile myself as a Red Riding Hood, Snow White or Belle. There is no heroine for me to project forward. MVOR heard my silence, as she often does... and in her perceptive way eventually prompted; I thought that would be obvious. Aren't you Cinderella? She gave a multitude of good reasons why I should be.
I considered it for a long while but ultimately had to disagree.
I couldn't be Cinderella because Cinderella, like all leading heroines, is a character laden with hope and possibility. You go into reading her story knowing that she will prevail. Despite her lowly and doomed status as a servant to her Stepmother and horrid Stepsisters, success is still a certainty for her, like it is for all heroines. I can't say that anything is a positive certainty for me. The jury is still out on whether I will turn these lemons into lemonade or even if I will manage to maintain this exhausting balancing act of my life that can at best be described as a "status quo". No, though I may indeed be in the soot and cinders, sleeping with the outcasts and edging my way along the fringes like our old friend Cinderella I'm not quite as entitled as she to a happy ending. Who is to say I am? What's the guarantee? Not everyone ends up with love, family, money, security, health or self actualisation. In fact, not even having one of them is a certainty.
MVOR explained that our archetypes and internal schemas are part of the image we have of ourselves and that which we project outwards. Is it indeed a self fulfilling prophesy to see oneself in a certain light and to project that outwards, therefore inviting others to see us thus? And so what do you do if your internal archetype is not positive or constructive? Well this is a question for the ages. I'm told it can change with a lot of perseverance and adjustments to our internal narrative.
So if my archetypal fairytale character is not Cindy, then what do you suppose I said?
----
I bought an album the other day for the first time in a loooooong time. I don't tend to buy albums anymore. I buy songs. I suppose we all do that now. But this one... this one I bought. I seem to be listening to this song a lot. It takes me somewhere otherworldly. Exactly what I need.
Pontoon - Emma Louise
The Archetypes conversation we had last week has lingered around me and refusing to leave.
Like all our conversations, this started somewhere rather remote and eventually meandered in that same way it usually does, past the inadequacies of my upbringing and taking a right through my lack of self esteem and stumbling somewhere near the babbling brook of discontent until we reached the fairytale discussion.
If you think about it, we are all in our consciousness and at the very core a collection of archetypes. That is how our point of reference for ourselves and the way in which we size up and identify each other. Every story has its wicked witch, its naive traveler, a caregiver, a Prince. There are those that look one way and act another like our friend The Beast and there are those that without doubt are exactly who they appear to be, like Snow White. Love it or hate it archetypes are important to us. How else would you know what I meant by Perfect Mother unless you already had an idea in your mind of what that would entail? Even if your own Mother wasn't perfect at all, you would still have a projected ideal in your mind of what she should have been.
The fairytale discussion began with an unflattering description of someone in my life as the wicked witch from Hansel and Gretel. MVOR agreed that this sounded consistent with my observations about her in previous discussions and so if that was true when who was I?
As the leading lady in my own sorrowful story you'd think that this would be an easy question to answer but I couldn't reconcile myself as a Red Riding Hood, Snow White or Belle. There is no heroine for me to project forward. MVOR heard my silence, as she often does... and in her perceptive way eventually prompted; I thought that would be obvious. Aren't you Cinderella? She gave a multitude of good reasons why I should be.
I considered it for a long while but ultimately had to disagree.
I couldn't be Cinderella because Cinderella, like all leading heroines, is a character laden with hope and possibility. You go into reading her story knowing that she will prevail. Despite her lowly and doomed status as a servant to her Stepmother and horrid Stepsisters, success is still a certainty for her, like it is for all heroines. I can't say that anything is a positive certainty for me. The jury is still out on whether I will turn these lemons into lemonade or even if I will manage to maintain this exhausting balancing act of my life that can at best be described as a "status quo". No, though I may indeed be in the soot and cinders, sleeping with the outcasts and edging my way along the fringes like our old friend Cinderella I'm not quite as entitled as she to a happy ending. Who is to say I am? What's the guarantee? Not everyone ends up with love, family, money, security, health or self actualisation. In fact, not even having one of them is a certainty.
MVOR explained that our archetypes and internal schemas are part of the image we have of ourselves and that which we project outwards. Is it indeed a self fulfilling prophesy to see oneself in a certain light and to project that outwards, therefore inviting others to see us thus? And so what do you do if your internal archetype is not positive or constructive? Well this is a question for the ages. I'm told it can change with a lot of perseverance and adjustments to our internal narrative.
So if my archetypal fairytale character is not Cindy, then what do you suppose I said?
----
I bought an album the other day for the first time in a loooooong time. I don't tend to buy albums anymore. I buy songs. I suppose we all do that now. But this one... this one I bought. I seem to be listening to this song a lot. It takes me somewhere otherworldly. Exactly what I need.
Pontoon - Emma Louise
Labels: archtypes, fairytales, music, musical monday, musings, MVOR, questions, schemas, thinking, thoughts
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
To Everything There is a Season
I was supposed to be doing some work on the weekend but somehow ended up at the movies instead. Movies are the vice I always give in to, even if there is a lot of other stuff that needs to be done. The movie we saw was The Way Way Back - a vacation story about a blended family who takes a trip to the beach for the summer. But really, this Duncan's story, an awkward 14 year old who is dealing with being bullied by his Mum's smarmy new boyfriend and trying to find connection in a world where he feels so isolated. I suppose this is a typical teenage story. Didn't we all feel like that at some stage?
To say this movie struck a chord with me would be underplaying it a bit. I didn't particularly identify with Duncan but I understood him and he gave me something that I just love getting when I go to the movies; a realisation.
The first scene of the movie is the car trip. A conversation between Duncan and his Mother's boyfriend Trent breaks the silence leading Trent to question Duncan about what score he would give himself out of 10. When Duncan reluctantly gives himself a 6, Trent gleefully tells him he's a 3. This is not a good beginning for Duncan. He's 14. His mother is going out with an arsehole. He has absolutely no power, no friends, no life and nothing to look forward to. He feels unwanted, alone, awkward and lonely but something incredible happened to Duncan on his summer vacation: He bloomed.
I like to think that everyone has a blooming moment. Perhaps yours happened at 14 and aren't you lucky that it happened so early if it did? Maybe your bloom happened as a senior in High School or after you left and got a job. Perhaps it was meeting the love of your life that did it. Maybe it was getting your license or going overseas or doing Tough Mudder. I don't know - I guess there are no rules to this kind of stuff. A time to every purpose...
Duncan's "time" happened on summer vacation while holidaying with a family whom he felt didn't want him. One day, while at a cafe Duncan randomly connects with the eccentric and immature water park owner Owen, who offers Duncan a job for the summer. Duncan is excited by the prospect of spending time away from his family and accepts immediately. At the water park Duncan finds himself. The mavericks who work there - whom you can also imagine may have at one time felt as Duncan does - accept him totally as one of them and Duncan responds in the only way that someone completely accepted can and that is, he becomes his true self.
Maslow had a theory of self-actualisation that somehow fits into this story. Although the threory was widely contested in the psychological community I still love to this day. There is something so Earthy and real about it. It feels real and that's enough for me. Basically, in order to be self-actualised there is a hierarchy of needs that must be met. The needs are graduated like a pyramid each step moving away from the physical and basic and into the spiritual and emotional (from food, shelter to love, confidence and belonging). It isn't until all your needs are met that you can be self-actualised. I think sometimes people confuse self-actualisation with success. You can be a 'success' and 'functional' and 'loving' and still not be self-actualised and I suppose if that's how you see self-actualisation the hierarchy of needs really doesn't make sense. IMO Self-actualisation is a state of mind, a meaningfulness one finds in life that goes beyond the material and into the soul. Successful and loving people don't necessarily have those qualities (though, they might) and maybe self-actualised people don't necessarily meed success as a material form either. Do I think you can skip steps and still reach the top though? Perhaps..
I was reminded of Maslow's hierarchy of needs while watching The Way Way Back. Duncan had the basic needs but not the emotional ones. At the water park he found a sense of belonging and connection among people who accepted and embraced him. He let go. He bloomed. He stepped up. He defied Trent's assertion that he was a "3".
I realised that apart from our basic needs there are a couple of things that might help us to become the best person we can be:
1) A place (no matter how insignificant) where we can be completely ourselves and accepted for who we are by other people.
2) A champion who will stand up for us when we can't stand up for ourselves.
Duncan's family saw him as a 3. In their stifling presence he was awkward, shy, weird and moody but that's not who he really was. At the water park, with Owen championing him, he became a 10. He found his champion and his special place and he left that sleepy summer town behind not a better person (as that would suggest he needed 'bettering') but a person who was allowed to bloom, finally. It was his time.
I guess I've been struggling with being seen as a 3, seeing myself this way too. I hold out hope for a champion and a place to bloom and moving up that pyramid - don't we all?
Although it's not quite Monday anymore, this one organically came up out of this post and so it must be its time. I love this brand of 60s folk rock and whenever I play this song it seems to always be the right song to play. I guess that Old Testament is not all fury and hell after all.
Turn, Turn, Turn - The Byrds
To say this movie struck a chord with me would be underplaying it a bit. I didn't particularly identify with Duncan but I understood him and he gave me something that I just love getting when I go to the movies; a realisation.
The first scene of the movie is the car trip. A conversation between Duncan and his Mother's boyfriend Trent breaks the silence leading Trent to question Duncan about what score he would give himself out of 10. When Duncan reluctantly gives himself a 6, Trent gleefully tells him he's a 3. This is not a good beginning for Duncan. He's 14. His mother is going out with an arsehole. He has absolutely no power, no friends, no life and nothing to look forward to. He feels unwanted, alone, awkward and lonely but something incredible happened to Duncan on his summer vacation: He bloomed.
I like to think that everyone has a blooming moment. Perhaps yours happened at 14 and aren't you lucky that it happened so early if it did? Maybe your bloom happened as a senior in High School or after you left and got a job. Perhaps it was meeting the love of your life that did it. Maybe it was getting your license or going overseas or doing Tough Mudder. I don't know - I guess there are no rules to this kind of stuff. A time to every purpose...
Duncan's "time" happened on summer vacation while holidaying with a family whom he felt didn't want him. One day, while at a cafe Duncan randomly connects with the eccentric and immature water park owner Owen, who offers Duncan a job for the summer. Duncan is excited by the prospect of spending time away from his family and accepts immediately. At the water park Duncan finds himself. The mavericks who work there - whom you can also imagine may have at one time felt as Duncan does - accept him totally as one of them and Duncan responds in the only way that someone completely accepted can and that is, he becomes his true self.
Maslow had a theory of self-actualisation that somehow fits into this story. Although the threory was widely contested in the psychological community I still love to this day. There is something so Earthy and real about it. It feels real and that's enough for me. Basically, in order to be self-actualised there is a hierarchy of needs that must be met. The needs are graduated like a pyramid each step moving away from the physical and basic and into the spiritual and emotional (from food, shelter to love, confidence and belonging). It isn't until all your needs are met that you can be self-actualised. I think sometimes people confuse self-actualisation with success. You can be a 'success' and 'functional' and 'loving' and still not be self-actualised and I suppose if that's how you see self-actualisation the hierarchy of needs really doesn't make sense. IMO Self-actualisation is a state of mind, a meaningfulness one finds in life that goes beyond the material and into the soul. Successful and loving people don't necessarily have those qualities (though, they might) and maybe self-actualised people don't necessarily meed success as a material form either. Do I think you can skip steps and still reach the top though? Perhaps..
I was reminded of Maslow's hierarchy of needs while watching The Way Way Back. Duncan had the basic needs but not the emotional ones. At the water park he found a sense of belonging and connection among people who accepted and embraced him. He let go. He bloomed. He stepped up. He defied Trent's assertion that he was a "3".
I realised that apart from our basic needs there are a couple of things that might help us to become the best person we can be:
1) A place (no matter how insignificant) where we can be completely ourselves and accepted for who we are by other people.
2) A champion who will stand up for us when we can't stand up for ourselves.
Duncan's family saw him as a 3. In their stifling presence he was awkward, shy, weird and moody but that's not who he really was. At the water park, with Owen championing him, he became a 10. He found his champion and his special place and he left that sleepy summer town behind not a better person (as that would suggest he needed 'bettering') but a person who was allowed to bloom, finally. It was his time.
I guess I've been struggling with being seen as a 3, seeing myself this way too. I hold out hope for a champion and a place to bloom and moving up that pyramid - don't we all?
Although it's not quite Monday anymore, this one organically came up out of this post and so it must be its time. I love this brand of 60s folk rock and whenever I play this song it seems to always be the right song to play. I guess that Old Testament is not all fury and hell after all.
Turn, Turn, Turn - The Byrds
Labels: 60s, cinema, film, friends, life, life and art, movies, music, musical monday, musings, self help, theory, thoughts, time, wonderings
Friday, July 26, 2013
How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count the Ways...
MVOR and I talked a lot about self-worth in our latest sitting. Clearly it's a reoccurring theme in my life and we bring it up a lot. I'd spent a good many years (my whole life) tearing myself down and so I wonder if now I have to spend the same amount of time building myself up? MVOR brought up me needing to enjoy the soup of my existence rather than looking at my life as a series of individual ingredients. She didn't put it quite like that - being much more eloquent and poetic than I - but this is how I remember it:
Take everything that you are and put it all together, heat, stir, let it simmer - sometimes for hours - and then you have the soup of your life. The soup is a dossier of the important bits that make up our person(a). If you think about what goes into your soup it can be quite humbling - perhaps it's the loss of a family member, the love you had for your pet dog, the wife who left you, the happiest marriage ever, the love in your heart for your child, the brother who failed to emotionally check in, abuse, love, joy, bullying, family holidays down by the lake, illness that stole people far too early, being heartbroken and those whose hearts you have toyed with recklessly - it's all there. Whatever they are, good and bad, all the flavours contribute to the whole. The soup ceases to be simply the sum of its parts once it has been cooked - it is no longer onion, cumin, celery etc, it's something completely different.
MVOR pointed out that I am picking apart ingredients and judging my whole 'soup' on one little bit. Cumin tastes like absolute shite on its own, but in the soup it probably adds to the flavour. I'm looking at the cumin and giving the whole soup a bad review based on that singular flavour only. It's true that sometimes when you take a spoonful of the soup you might get a mouthful of chilli, or cumin or whatever and it causes you to splutter and fail to swallow but still - the soup is more than this mouthful. We are more than the sum of our parts, even though the parts make the sum. Does that make sense?
My soup is an series of ingredients which I have thus far refused to enjoy as a cohesive meal. I've taken this rather negative perspective on my life instead (as best paraphrased by a conversation in the movie Clueless):
Cher: she's a full-on Monet
Tai: What's a Monet?
Cher: It's like a painting, see? From far away, it's OK, but up close, it's a big old mess.
I see myself in the microcosm - the Monet up close and as the list of ingredients rather than the whole soup. According to MVOR I should start looking at myself as the whole soup rather than the sum of the ingredients and if I find myself spluttering on a mouthful of cumin I need to reposition that as part of the whole rather than as a defining part of me - yes it exists, yes it's bad, yes it's part of my history and therefore part of my now but I am not just cumin. I need to acknowledge and respect those parts of me that are not that great but in no way should I be judging the whole on the sum of it's parts.
Aaaand now I'm hungry.
*no cumin was harmed in the writing of this post. Feel that perhaps I was a little too hard on it. It's really quite a nice spice.
Labels: analogy, analysis, art, life, life and art, monet, musings, MVOR, psychos, thoughts
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Public Versus Private
I've been thinking a lot about this blog and what the purpose of it is.
I wonder a lot if I should be locking it up and keeping it as a place to spew private and seedy bile only. I toy with deleting all the non-musical posts and keeping it specific and I ponder living a life alongside a blog that has an identity such as "cooking blog" or "teacher tips". Sometimes I have an overwhelming urge to just throw the address out to everyone I know and let them all feast upon me and then I wonder why I don't?
Clearly this is a public space - and yet it's so unbelievably private at the same time. There are posts that are more private than others, of course, but some people (you) get to read them all - private or not they are there for you to read. I've made the choice for them to be there. So what am I hiding from those in my everyday life exactly? What aspect of myself am I protecting by not being open?
This notion of private and public in the online world is very interesting to me - and not just because I'm questioning my role in it. There are things that people who happen across this blog know about me that no one else knows and there are things that you will never know because they are part of my public profile (avatar? and now it is complete, the avatar is not only online). I'm not sure which is more real, but often I think it's this person here - the one clicking at the keys right now... but perhaps not. Maybe it's the person that attends parent/teacher meetings and lends a listening ear to a friend in need? I especially wonder about my need to be noticed versus my need to feel private and protected and how that affects this public/private dichotomy of my identity. I wonder if everyone or anyone else in the blog world feels like this too or if it's just me.
If I threw open the doors of this blog then what would it become? Would it change? Would I? And is that a good thing?
Is your blog truly public?
How's that treating you?
I wonder a lot if I should be locking it up and keeping it as a place to spew private and seedy bile only. I toy with deleting all the non-musical posts and keeping it specific and I ponder living a life alongside a blog that has an identity such as "cooking blog" or "teacher tips". Sometimes I have an overwhelming urge to just throw the address out to everyone I know and let them all feast upon me and then I wonder why I don't?
Clearly this is a public space - and yet it's so unbelievably private at the same time. There are posts that are more private than others, of course, but some people (you) get to read them all - private or not they are there for you to read. I've made the choice for them to be there. So what am I hiding from those in my everyday life exactly? What aspect of myself am I protecting by not being open?
This notion of private and public in the online world is very interesting to me - and not just because I'm questioning my role in it. There are things that people who happen across this blog know about me that no one else knows and there are things that you will never know because they are part of my public profile (avatar? and now it is complete, the avatar is not only online). I'm not sure which is more real, but often I think it's this person here - the one clicking at the keys right now... but perhaps not. Maybe it's the person that attends parent/teacher meetings and lends a listening ear to a friend in need? I especially wonder about my need to be noticed versus my need to feel private and protected and how that affects this public/private dichotomy of my identity. I wonder if everyone or anyone else in the blog world feels like this too or if it's just me.
If I threw open the doors of this blog then what would it become? Would it change? Would I? And is that a good thing?
Is your blog truly public?
How's that treating you?
Labels: blogs, friends, internet as village community, musings, Now I'm writing a blog post about it. Bizarre., private, public, questions, secrets, thinking, thoughts, wonderings, writing
Thursday, July 18, 2013
The Thinker
I got called out on being the 'I know' girl the other day. It's my go-to phrase: "I know".
I have this ability you see, and always have of just knowing things to be true. I know if someone is going to be a right shit, even before I've met them properly. I know and understand people's feelings often before they even realise them. Sometimes I know how things will turn out. I understand other people's emotional dramas. I understand concepts, often before people even explain them fully (not maths *shudder*). I guess I'm just perceptive.
I. Just. Know.
That is, to qualify this further, I am good at knowing things on an intellectual level. I comprehend ideas and people very well. It makes me a wonderful friend to have in your pocket. I understand. Yes truly I do. When I was called out the other night on being the "I know girl" it was because I know nothing spiritually speaking. I'm not talking about Jesus. I mean as a base emotional knowing, I know nothing.
I guess that means that while I can be reflective, understanding, articulate and perceptive it rarely clicks over into a level so deep that knowing something changes my life. I know for instance that I must live an authentic life, that is to honour my dreams, wishes and completely accept myself as I am. However, despite knowing this, talking the talk and trying like buggery to live this way and thinking that I'm doing it right I'm still not. I may even physically do things the exact same way as somebody else but still end up with a very different and unwanted outcome. One can go to a million classes, a thousand doctors and many a positive talk seminar with the best of intentions but unless you are really able to be open it's just not going to work. You see, I know this but clearly I don't or else positive things would be happening.
I've discovered that it's very hard for me to separate intellect from emotion. I can think myself into or out of anything. I am good at thinking. I am a thinker and an philosopher. I am also quite good at following instructions. These skills get you nowhere outside of the classroom. I am shite at the important stuff - that is at letting knowledge marinate so deep that it imbibes every cell and becomes the life I lead. It's apparently not something you can learn through instruction - I've tried.
I'm frustrated about it because I don't know how else to be.
I know that I don't know and I don't know how I'm supposed to get to know.
Labels: about me, knowing, musings, oh I don't know, philosophy, the fact that I can write this entry proves my point, thinking, thoughts, truth time, wonderings
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Constellations
I bought a ticket to a play a while ago that has haunted me ever since I saw it. It was called Constellations and it was produced by the MTC (as an an interpretation of a play by British playwright Nick Payne). The play tells the story(ies) of a couple but in a way that is not linear at all. The whole play is one long piece of dialogue expertly ping-ponged (made up verb) between two actors on stage playing out different manifestations and realities of their life as a couple. It brought up a lot of questions for me and the different realities of my own life.
If at any point, or at every point for that matter, we come to a fork in the road is the chance of us taking any of those branching pathways weighted the same as the other? Is the homeless man homeless because he forgot to brush his hair one morning or ran the red light? Can we at any point deviate and create a new life for ourselves regardless of what has come before? Is there another, better version of us happening right now in this multi-verse?
I wonder a lot now about the Many-Worlds interpretation of Quantum Mechanics. I am not a Scientist. I am a dreamer who doesn't need or even want a theory to be proven true, the thought is enough for me. Sometimes the thought itself is truth enough! This is the opposite of being a Scientist - a la people that forge their lives on proving theories. I don't need proof. In any case, I realise that Quantum Theory is riddled with, at best, uncertainty and at worst is an absolute lie. I don't even know enough about it to make that statement properly but it's my blog and I'll pontificate if I want to.
Almost (...almost) certainly, you cannot have parallel lives existing simultaneously but certainly our actions and reactions do bring about certain responses in others and ourselves from which more action will take place. That action helps to creates our future. Even so, sometimes things happen that are a freak occurrence. Sometimes life brings about things you cannot plan for and even the best possible response from you will not glean an equal and opposite reaction. Or does it? Perhaps all responses are simply 'meant to be'? Perhaps it is as written and nothing more..which seems unlikely. Or perhaps it's random and chaotic and nothing at all matters because we are just here to fuck, reproduce and die...but I can't believe that either.
If life is like a choose your own adventure and where at each point we come across a fork in the road, are the possible choices for us already written and we just pick the right path within a certain parameter or are all infinite possibilities at all times always open to all of us?
I wonder about the different forks in the road that I have encountered (I am old enough to know there have been a great many) and I wonder about who that 16 year old M turned into when she said yes that time when I actually said no? I wonder about M who turned down the temporary teaching job she was offered and what she is doing now? I wonder about M who actually stayed in London when I came back. Who are these other Ms? How many hundreds of thousands of manifestations and possibilities of her exist now and how many more are there to come? What I wonder most of all is which of her is truly authentic and which of her am I (if any)?
I'm beginning to fear that the best manifestation of M disappeared somewhere down a fork in the road long, long ago and I lost her completely.
If at any point, or at every point for that matter, we come to a fork in the road is the chance of us taking any of those branching pathways weighted the same as the other? Is the homeless man homeless because he forgot to brush his hair one morning or ran the red light? Can we at any point deviate and create a new life for ourselves regardless of what has come before? Is there another, better version of us happening right now in this multi-verse?
I wonder a lot now about the Many-Worlds interpretation of Quantum Mechanics. I am not a Scientist. I am a dreamer who doesn't need or even want a theory to be proven true, the thought is enough for me. Sometimes the thought itself is truth enough! This is the opposite of being a Scientist - a la people that forge their lives on proving theories. I don't need proof. In any case, I realise that Quantum Theory is riddled with, at best, uncertainty and at worst is an absolute lie. I don't even know enough about it to make that statement properly but it's my blog and I'll pontificate if I want to.
Almost (...almost) certainly, you cannot have parallel lives existing simultaneously but certainly our actions and reactions do bring about certain responses in others and ourselves from which more action will take place. That action helps to creates our future. Even so, sometimes things happen that are a freak occurrence. Sometimes life brings about things you cannot plan for and even the best possible response from you will not glean an equal and opposite reaction. Or does it? Perhaps all responses are simply 'meant to be'? Perhaps it is as written and nothing more..which seems unlikely. Or perhaps it's random and chaotic and nothing at all matters because we are just here to fuck, reproduce and die...but I can't believe that either.
If life is like a choose your own adventure and where at each point we come across a fork in the road, are the possible choices for us already written and we just pick the right path within a certain parameter or are all infinite possibilities at all times always open to all of us?
I wonder about the different forks in the road that I have encountered (I am old enough to know there have been a great many) and I wonder about who that 16 year old M turned into when she said yes that time when I actually said no? I wonder about M who turned down the temporary teaching job she was offered and what she is doing now? I wonder about M who actually stayed in London when I came back. Who are these other Ms? How many hundreds of thousands of manifestations and possibilities of her exist now and how many more are there to come? What I wonder most of all is which of her is truly authentic and which of her am I (if any)?
I'm beginning to fear that the best manifestation of M disappeared somewhere down a fork in the road long, long ago and I lost her completely.
Labels: constellations, contemplation, it doesn't help that the main character shares my name, life, life and art, musings, science, theatre, thoughts, wonderings
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Totally Boss.
The so-called leaders of this fair country Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd have been playing a kind of perverted pass the parcel with the top job over the past few years. Quite frankly I think I can safely say that we're all rather sick of it fuck you very much. I hope this is the last we hear of it. Particularly as this guy:
is about to take over the top job. Surely we have bigger things to worry about eh Australia?
Having said that, I've spent the last couple of years both mystified and pissed (pisstified is what I wanted to write to be honest) at how the media and even just the Australian public has treated our first lady PM. I hated it how the Australian media (and other politicians in fact) would refer to her as Julia rather than Prime Minister or Ms Gillard. What's up with that? It was despicable how it was deemed okay to comment on her clothes, her body, her face or her posture, particularly when it was clear that she was there to get policies happening. It was down right disrespectful how her boyfriend's sexuality was questioned TO HER FACE. I felt sick to my stomach every time the not only unnecessary but downright sexist taunts happened. I'm not even a fan of hers!
Why?
Seriously, why DID this happen?
My feminist roots scream at me from deep down "it's because she's a woman" and I can't not listen to them.
Another part of me thinks that this all harks back to the Delilah Effect, namely women, bringing down great men and the fear this strikes in "mankind". Let's not forget that it was Eve that tempted Adam into giving up paradise and brought sin upon "man". And what about that little scamp Delilah, who seduced Samson, told his secrets and brought him down? Ummmahhh. Likewise, the public never quite forgave Julia Gillard for taking over the PM role and turfing old Kev (you see what I did there?) out.
She's Eve. She's Delilah. She's the knife in the back of powerful men.
I have a problem with the general public hating her for this.
When Kevin Rudd was in the job (the first time around) he was a mess. The party (the men behind the scenes if you like) overthrew him, not just Ms Gillard. Now he's back and are we happy? No. Of course we're not. Most of us remember how shit he was at the time and know that something needed to happen. Julia happened, and unfortunately she made a bunch of mistakes in her time as PM that made it hard for us to warm to her. Regardless, it was never going to go well. The damage was done before she was even sworn in.
You know, I'd much rather condemn her for not supporting gay marriage than the fact that she had balls enough to take over the top job from an egocentric, rageaholic and make it her own.
is about to take over the top job. Surely we have bigger things to worry about eh Australia?
Having said that, I've spent the last couple of years both mystified and pissed (pisstified is what I wanted to write to be honest) at how the media and even just the Australian public has treated our first lady PM. I hated it how the Australian media (and other politicians in fact) would refer to her as Julia rather than Prime Minister or Ms Gillard. What's up with that? It was despicable how it was deemed okay to comment on her clothes, her body, her face or her posture, particularly when it was clear that she was there to get policies happening. It was down right disrespectful how her boyfriend's sexuality was questioned TO HER FACE. I felt sick to my stomach every time the not only unnecessary but downright sexist taunts happened. I'm not even a fan of hers!
Why?
Seriously, why DID this happen?
My feminist roots scream at me from deep down "it's because she's a woman" and I can't not listen to them.
Another part of me thinks that this all harks back to the Delilah Effect, namely women, bringing down great men and the fear this strikes in "mankind". Let's not forget that it was Eve that tempted Adam into giving up paradise and brought sin upon "man". And what about that little scamp Delilah, who seduced Samson, told his secrets and brought him down? Ummmahhh. Likewise, the public never quite forgave Julia Gillard for taking over the PM role and turfing old Kev (you see what I did there?) out.
She's Eve. She's Delilah. She's the knife in the back of powerful men.
I have a problem with the general public hating her for this.
When Kevin Rudd was in the job (the first time around) he was a mess. The party (the men behind the scenes if you like) overthrew him, not just Ms Gillard. Now he's back and are we happy? No. Of course we're not. Most of us remember how shit he was at the time and know that something needed to happen. Julia happened, and unfortunately she made a bunch of mistakes in her time as PM that made it hard for us to warm to her. Regardless, it was never going to go well. The damage was done before she was even sworn in.
You know, I'd much rather condemn her for not supporting gay marriage than the fact that she had balls enough to take over the top job from an egocentric, rageaholic and make it her own.
Labels: news, political musings, thoughts, yes I am taking politics
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Thoughts during the week..
Why do street revelers always look so carefree? Is it the alcohol?
Knowing something about someone without them knowing you know the thing you know is pure agony. A lesson in how to feel the effects of a relationship shifting without push or pull.
Does anyone else ever look at their friends and wonder whether they have anything in common anymore and if not, then what am I doing here?
At first glance she looked capable and strong but the high pitched shrieks and giggles gave her away. She was a promise, broken.
Can babies see into your soul in a way that adults can't? If a baby doesn't like a particular adult then is that a marker of a bad person?
An ex colleague asked for her child to be in my class next year. This is one for the "too hard basket". It's a lot of pressure. She is not the kind of woman who could take 'no' any other way than personally and badly.
Can I really afford to go back to school? If nothing material comes of it, can I just put it down to a really expensive but worthwhile venture?
Two people in my extended family had a dream about my father this week. One had a message to tell. All I can say is that the right person had the right dream. She didn't look happy at all. The other (her mother) also had a visitation. An omen. We've been waiting for one for a while. So now, we shall see...
I was also "visited" but that's another story. Message - rather hard to take, but understood nevertheless.
I hate when people are passive aggressive. If they have something to say, they should just say it. Hiding behind snark is so unbecoming.
I can feel myself pulling away from everyone I know (and they are equally pulling away from me). I'm walking around in a haze. I'm not sure where the blurriness came from but I feel tired all.the.time.
What makes things "worth it"? Is it something as small as 'the smell of fresh coffee' or does it have to be something big like 'love'? What keeps people going?
Do you believe in signs (meta-physical ones)?
Last week I wrote about one of my favourite albums by Weezer and so speaking of wonderful albums, Moon Safari is beyond doubt one of the best albums released in the last 10 years (soon to be re-released!). Strictly only for lovers of moon music, modernity, space travel, French stuff and of course - good taste. I have played Air a couple of times now and each time it divides people equally. They are not 'typical' which tends to polarise opinion about them.
This song is sublime. I wish mornings really did sound like AIR. Instead it sounds like the alarm clock jackhammering through my dreams and into my brain. If mornings really felt like AIR sounded, I think I'd get through the day a little easier.
Ce Matin Là - AIR
And for night time - strictly for stargazing and wondering about living on the moon.
Kelly Watch the Stars - AIR
Knowing something about someone without them knowing you know the thing you know is pure agony. A lesson in how to feel the effects of a relationship shifting without push or pull.
Does anyone else ever look at their friends and wonder whether they have anything in common anymore and if not, then what am I doing here?
At first glance she looked capable and strong but the high pitched shrieks and giggles gave her away. She was a promise, broken.
Can babies see into your soul in a way that adults can't? If a baby doesn't like a particular adult then is that a marker of a bad person?
An ex colleague asked for her child to be in my class next year. This is one for the "too hard basket". It's a lot of pressure. She is not the kind of woman who could take 'no' any other way than personally and badly.
Can I really afford to go back to school? If nothing material comes of it, can I just put it down to a really expensive but worthwhile venture?
Two people in my extended family had a dream about my father this week. One had a message to tell. All I can say is that the right person had the right dream. She didn't look happy at all. The other (her mother) also had a visitation. An omen. We've been waiting for one for a while. So now, we shall see...
I was also "visited" but that's another story. Message - rather hard to take, but understood nevertheless.
I hate when people are passive aggressive. If they have something to say, they should just say it. Hiding behind snark is so unbecoming.
I can feel myself pulling away from everyone I know (and they are equally pulling away from me). I'm walking around in a haze. I'm not sure where the blurriness came from but I feel tired all.the.time.
What makes things "worth it"? Is it something as small as 'the smell of fresh coffee' or does it have to be something big like 'love'? What keeps people going?
Do you believe in signs (meta-physical ones)?
Last week I wrote about one of my favourite albums by Weezer and so speaking of wonderful albums, Moon Safari is beyond doubt one of the best albums released in the last 10 years (soon to be re-released!). Strictly only for lovers of moon music, modernity, space travel, French stuff and of course - good taste. I have played Air a couple of times now and each time it divides people equally. They are not 'typical' which tends to polarise opinion about them.
This song is sublime. I wish mornings really did sound like AIR. Instead it sounds like the alarm clock jackhammering through my dreams and into my brain. If mornings really felt like AIR sounded, I think I'd get through the day a little easier.
Ce Matin Là - AIR
And for night time - strictly for stargazing and wondering about living on the moon.
Kelly Watch the Stars - AIR
Labels: melancholy, musical monday, musings, questions, thoughts, uestions, wonderings
Sunday, November 04, 2007
my moon and me
Toward the end of the week..
Photography class - assignment in.
Dinner with the girls.
..no babies.
Had a financial discussion.
Had an imaginary discussion with the bottom of a glass of red.
They might have been related..
Watched city people wander the streets
Fashionable ladies tapping a merry tune in high heels
the bald man talking to himself
a crazy predicting doom around the corner
and a girl in comfy looking flats and long raven wavy hair that billowed out behind her like a superhero cape.
Ate a lovely dinner
...in a restaurant that looked like the pits - but wasn't.
Saw a house I liked. Saw another house I liked.
Both had major issues.
Maybe I have major issues.
made the perfect batch of scrambled eggs.
Sang along loudly with the radio.
The toast burnt during my crescendo
..it was worth singing the song properly though.
Saw a movie, the whole cinema clapped the ending.
That never happens in Melbourne!
Another dinner - the restaurant looked nicer.
..the food wasn't as good.
looks can be deceiving.
Met family members I hadn't seen in 11 years.
I made them laugh with my stories of woe.
My life isn't so funny when I'm in a room alone, I have to admit.
Met a strange little girl who told me she was going to be a ballerina
...or just magic.
she hadn't decided yet.
She reminded me of me when I was that age.
I felt a bit like I should warn her
...that fairy dreams are fun until they come crashing down
but I didn't.
Made the perfect pizza from scratch
ate some.
Heard a song.
Love at first listen.
Isn't it great when that happens?
My Moon, My Man - Feist
Photography class - assignment in.
Dinner with the girls.
..no babies.
Had a financial discussion.
Had an imaginary discussion with the bottom of a glass of red.
They might have been related..
Watched city people wander the streets
Fashionable ladies tapping a merry tune in high heels
the bald man talking to himself
a crazy predicting doom around the corner
and a girl in comfy looking flats and long raven wavy hair that billowed out behind her like a superhero cape.
Ate a lovely dinner
...in a restaurant that looked like the pits - but wasn't.
Saw a house I liked. Saw another house I liked.
Both had major issues.
Maybe I have major issues.
made the perfect batch of scrambled eggs.
Sang along loudly with the radio.
The toast burnt during my crescendo
..it was worth singing the song properly though.
Saw a movie, the whole cinema clapped the ending.
That never happens in Melbourne!
Another dinner - the restaurant looked nicer.
..the food wasn't as good.
looks can be deceiving.
Met family members I hadn't seen in 11 years.
I made them laugh with my stories of woe.
My life isn't so funny when I'm in a room alone, I have to admit.
Met a strange little girl who told me she was going to be a ballerina
...or just magic.
she hadn't decided yet.
She reminded me of me when I was that age.
I felt a bit like I should warn her
...that fairy dreams are fun until they come crashing down
but I didn't.
Made the perfect pizza from scratch
ate some.
Heard a song.
Love at first listen.
Isn't it great when that happens?
My Moon, My Man - Feist
Labels: don't worry it's not a poem just a list, melbourne musings, musical monday, the list, thoughts
Thursday, October 04, 2007
The Best Things in Life are Free.
Us singles have a different approach to life and finance than the marrieds do. Since I'm almost 30 and have pretty much resigned to never finding someone to settle down with I'm really thinking about my financial future at the moment, and looking to set myself up in alone-land. Alone-land involves thinking about 'what if I get sick?', 'what if I lose my job?' 'who will look after me?'. The answer is no one, and actually that's fucking scary. There's a lot of insecurity there - and this is because I know what it's like to account for every penny. It's how I grew up. It's not fun.I've done a bit of soul searching and I've realised that I've been unconsciously doing something for a very long time that hasn't been good for me. I've been waiting. The waiting has held me back. While I *have* been looking for a house I'm realising now that maybe my fear about 'going it alone' has been holding me back from really laying my savings down on the line and buying something. Going it alone is bloody scary when you know that you're not ever going to earn enough to really be totally secure in mortgage land. Whatever I choose to do I know I'll have to be careful with money. That's okay in theory, but actually doing it is scary. The alternative however - waiting is a lot worse for me. Waiting is not on the cards - I need to be truly independent with waiting not even a factor. If this means I'm cutting off certain possibilities then so be it. I'm not going to suddenly win lotto so I need to really plan for my future now.
I hate people saying 'oh but you're so free'. Usually this comes from people who are snug as a bug in a rug in couple land where they're not thinking about how they are totally dependent only on themselves for everything. It's easy to say 'you're free to do what you want' when you've got a kid on your hip and hubby coming home for supper - I once challenged my friend on this and she admitted in the end that if she didn't have her husband then she wouldn't be able to do half the things that she's done. House, trips, etc - they can rely on each other. It's different when it's just you and I know the quirkyalone among you reading this will totally know what I'm talking about - serial monogamists excluded.
Anyway on being free - I don't really feel like going on an extended trip overseas, coming back with no savings and having to start again in a market that is even worse than what it is now. No thanks, I don't want to get caught up later. Honestly, if I was married, I think I would PUSH for an overseas trip right now, perhaps a stint living there for a while - because quite frankly it's easier when you've got two salaries to play with and there's safety in numbers as well. When you come back you have two salaries to bolster yourself up. Spending money on two living together is almost the same as one living alone - but you have two salaries to do it with. Yes, sure I *could* easily pack up my life and go overseas right now and not have to tell anyone about it. It could be great...for now - but while you hear all those romantic statements about living in the moment blah blah, back in the land of reality that ain't happening. Certainly not with the big stuff anyway. I'm pretty naive sometimes but not stupid. I know I have to plan and I know it has to happen now. I wrote an entry about this a while ago, in the context of men who say 'where have all the girls gone?' - well we went and got ourselves financially secure buddy.
Anyway it's taken a lot of soul searching on my part but I'm at that stage where I know I want to be financially secure so that I don't have to stress about it for the rest of my life. I've worked out a way to make it happen and am in a process of creating a future where I will not become my parents.
The relationship my parents had with money has taught me to never depend on another person for money coming in. Yes, that means I'm scarred but better to live and learn than to repeat the mistakes of others. I never want to have to 'talk about my spending' I never want to have to justify the extra pair of knickers I bought, I don't want to have to talk about how 'since I'm earning more that means you do more housework' (which yes, I have seen happen with friends of mine). I reject marrying for money (and all arguments out there that say that all women look for that in a man) because even the thought of someone paying for the date makes me incredibly anxious. Actually KNOWING that they resent doing this (from what I keep reading on the internets anyway) has opened up my eyes in a very bad way. The crap about women being gold diggers is even worse. For someone who already has a chip on her shoulder about being independent this whole money in relationships issue really gives me hives.
It's a good thing I'm planning for alone-land then eh?
So anyway, the point is I've got this plan that is actually going to happen and it's a good one but then something hit me hard - what if someone comes along in the future - waaay in the future when I least expect it? Where do they fit into the financial stability that I've (hopefully) created? I do believe in share and share alike and I'm generous to boot. I just don't want to be dependent - ever. I like the thought of a buddy relationship where you have each others backs and you both contribute the same, that would be ideal - but I'm wondering does that really exist when money and ego come into play?
The other day I was at my friend S's place and we were playing with her new baby. The baby did a poo and S looked at her husband - "can you please do it this time?" she said. He looked at her smiled and made a joke "no, I'm bringing the money in, you change the baby". I didn't say it was a funny joke, in fact it wasn't a joke at all - he was completely serious. These two actually have very similar work ethics and ideas about money and yet, there it was hanging over the room like a storm cloud waiting to erupt. Money.
Does money get in the way of a good relationship? How do you stop that from happening? Singletons, do you worry for your financial future - have you tried to plan for a future alone or are you waiting for someone to come along and help? Marrieds - did you go into your marriage totally financially secure or is this something you've developed together? Have you ever HAD these worries or were you married before it got to crunch time (for the record, I reckon 30-40 is crunch time). Is it detrimental to a relationship if one person is financially secure and the other isn't?
Labels: money, questions, relationships, singletons, smug marrieds, thoughts, wonderings
Monday, September 10, 2007
Monday morning, alone time musings.
It's funny sort of morning, warm and sunny but there's chill in the whip of the wind that will later develop into a blistery grey day. I'm standing to the side of a weathered basket ball court supervising children run back and forth in a seemingly endless relay. It's 9.15am and their faces are already shiny with sweat - the sky is a perfect expanse of blue and judging from my weepy eyes, spring is definitely in the air. I'm switching balance from foot to booted foot - and thinking about life and being alone. Not exactly a cheery Monday morning thought. I know these things are never really permanent unless you decide they are, but this feels permanent.
I don't think I've ever been more aware of being alone than right now. Friends with children have become unaccessible. Phone conversations reduced to "so how are you?" and before I can have my say it's "...oh God, baby crying, gotta go bye". I've simply stopped saying anything about myself at all - instead I ask about them. As yet, they haven't noticed the change but it's just easier for everyone concerned. God knows lack of adult conversation means they don't speak to anyone else either.
Then there are the 'too busy to talk' friends, and the 'last ditch effort to inject some life into their lives by transferring overseas' friends and the 'not as close as we used to be' friends. I'm just feeling a bit displaced and lost - is this an 'almost 30' thing? Is this normal?
Apart from the usual coffee and dinner occurrences I find myself spending a lot of time doing things alone and while I'm not bothered most of the time - it's just the feeling that people aren't *there* for me anymore is what is making me question whether things will always be like this. Maybe I'm just being melodramatic...
As for melancholy moods and Musical Mondays I think I've found the perfect song for imagining you're floating mid air above a field of daisies or something nice like that. I wish I was doing it now. An occasional spattering of clouds have settled overhead and I'd really just love to lay down somewhere and make up stories in my head about them while listening to Mazzy Star and thinking about life.
Fade Into You - Mazzy Star
I don't think I've ever been more aware of being alone than right now. Friends with children have become unaccessible. Phone conversations reduced to "so how are you?" and before I can have my say it's "...oh God, baby crying, gotta go bye". I've simply stopped saying anything about myself at all - instead I ask about them. As yet, they haven't noticed the change but it's just easier for everyone concerned. God knows lack of adult conversation means they don't speak to anyone else either.
Then there are the 'too busy to talk' friends, and the 'last ditch effort to inject some life into their lives by transferring overseas' friends and the 'not as close as we used to be' friends. I'm just feeling a bit displaced and lost - is this an 'almost 30' thing? Is this normal?
Apart from the usual coffee and dinner occurrences I find myself spending a lot of time doing things alone and while I'm not bothered most of the time - it's just the feeling that people aren't *there* for me anymore is what is making me question whether things will always be like this. Maybe I'm just being melodramatic...
As for melancholy moods and Musical Mondays I think I've found the perfect song for imagining you're floating mid air above a field of daisies or something nice like that. I wish I was doing it now. An occasional spattering of clouds have settled overhead and I'd really just love to lay down somewhere and make up stories in my head about them while listening to Mazzy Star and thinking about life.
Fade Into You - Mazzy Star
Labels: melancholy, musical monday, thoughts, wonderings
Friday, June 08, 2007
The Great Unwind
It's been a long time since you last took this road home. This evening you're on automatic pilot - wheel gripped in hand. This is a form of therapy you can afford - a long drive on a narrow curling ribbon of road with a view of the sun setting behind the trees. Bliss. You think better when the detail has been taken away; the world looks simple and innocent framed by a dusty pink sky behind a silhouette of blackened trees. How did you let things get so cloudy so easily? Why do you tie yourself so tightly to your feelings, emotions and intuition when surely being strategic and clinical is more conducive to getting 'it' done?
You stopped gripping at the wheel a while back and now it glides smoothly through your palms. Breath exhaled. Your mind a series of peaceful alpha waves. The music from the car stereo gives you a bear hug around your heart. The great unwind works every time.
You flash past an elvish row of glowing shop front windows, a decrepit service station, a faded zebra crossing and row after row of thick criss crossed naked trees but none of it matters, it's all just background noise. The world blurs, just like you want it to. This drive is dedicated to an unwinding that doesn't seem to happen as naturally as it did once upon a time. Nowadays it's something you need to schedule into your day. You feel the stress dropping off as you drive further into the trees. Your breathing becomes low and measured with each km clocked up on the odometer. Your thoughts slow down until you can actually think them.
You stopped gripping at the wheel a while back and now it glides smoothly through your palms. Breath exhaled. Your mind a series of peaceful alpha waves. The music from the car stereo gives you a bear hug around your heart. The great unwind works every time.
You flash past an elvish row of glowing shop front windows, a decrepit service station, a faded zebra crossing and row after row of thick criss crossed naked trees but none of it matters, it's all just background noise. The world blurs, just like you want it to. This drive is dedicated to an unwinding that doesn't seem to happen as naturally as it did once upon a time. Nowadays it's something you need to schedule into your day. You feel the stress dropping off as you drive further into the trees. Your breathing becomes low and measured with each km clocked up on the odometer. Your thoughts slow down until you can actually think them.
Labels: drive, melbourne musings, thoughts, unwind
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