Of Perky Positivity August 19, 2009
Posted by Jen in : Bit of a Mid-Life Crisis, Journal , 21 comments“A goal is nothing more than a dream with a deadline” – Joe L. Griffith
I like that. It kind of works for me, you know? Since I came back from Jersey, I’ve been re-assessing my life a little bit. Making decisions about where I want to be in life and making inroads as to how to get there. My general feelings of dissatisfaction aren’t, I realise, geography-based but more within me. Reader, I have had a self-realisation: I get on my own nerves. That’s terrible, isn’t it? So I’ve been addressing the reasons for this – it’s just a shame we can’t simple parcel up our inadequacies in a Jiffy Bag, sellotape ‘em up and send them off somewhere. It’s a bit trickier than that, generally.
Anyway. One of the things I have started doing is actually saying ‘yes’ to things.
‘What are you doing while your boys are away?’ asked Lady Colleague last week.
‘Oh,’ I replied, trying to sound jaunty, ‘I’ll probably just recharge my batteries, read some books. Maybe have a bath.’
I mean, seriously, bloody hell! Am I 90 all of a sudden? No. I think you will find I am not. So I’ve started saying ‘yes’ to things. Actually *doing* things. The weekend found me zooming from my teeny tiny cottage in my teeny tiny car further than I had ever been before on such a solitary journey. I had initially reeled off the very long list of reasons why I couldn’t go to stay with the terribly ace Qwerty Queen and the equally accomplished Beleaguered Squirrel. I borrowed Tweed-Clad Colleague’s SatNav device and wheeeeeeee! Off I went. And, despite my worryings (will I end up in Scotland? will they realise that I am the dimmest of dimwits in their writerly midsts?) it was, of course, bloomin ace. We talked and talked and talked and had just a little drink or two which sort of made us talk even more, despite the Queenly One having to be poked in the arm when she fell asleep at the table during one of my more fascinating rambles. Maybe she was just concentrating – with her eyes closed – to fully appreciate the fascinating-ness? Yes, that must be it.
But yeah. I even went for a coffee on my own en route, something I never do either. This is the girl who didn’t know how to even put petrol in her car until a couple of years ago. And, I confess, I probably wouldn’t have had the coffee bravery either but for the fact that my weeing department was never going to last 350-odd miles. TMI? Nah, thought not.
And, I am going to buy my own SatNav gadgetery and have plentiful postcode adventures, Dave Gorman stylee. And, I have signed up for the next two (final) courses of my degree. This time next year, I will be finished and, quite likely, stressing out about a PGCE.
Until I purchase my super new SatNav, my journeys will still be gorgeously higgledy-piggledy. But I think I’m getting there… wherever ‘there’ may be.
Of Monday Mumblings (and Retrospective Rumblings) August 10, 2009
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 18 commentsI’m not given to philosophising. Introspective ponderings and mentalist musings, yes, but the philosophy I can usually do without. Besides, everyone knows that the best philosophies come after wine – those enlightening glimpses of genius that are thankfully forgotten by morning. One credo I do live by, however, is ‘never go back’. I’ve believed and lived it for years. But sometimes you have to. Last week I went back to Jersey. Home. My parents are still there; my sister has also just returned after many years hiding in the Dutch woods. There are old friends I like to catch up with – regardless of how rubbish we’ve been at keeping in touch, we meet up after a many-year gap and pick up the pieces immediately and it’s the best feeling in the world (hello Hayley!). It’s a funny thing.
Last week, though, there was a school reunion. I. Was. Terrified. “I feel siiiiiick,” I bleated to Mum all afternoon. But actually, it was one of the best nights I’ve had in my life. I’ll tell you about it another day. Oddly, when you have a ‘pretty much the best ever’ kind of evening, you don’t expect to have another ‘best ever’ just days after. But I did, whisked away with thoughtfulness, wine and Jaffa Cakes, perched high on a deserted headland with heather clinging obstinately and luridly colourful against a baleful, thunderous sky. Getting to know someone you’ve known for 29 years is a strange thing. A wonderful thing. But then the whole week was wonderful. Every single breath of it.
I did the things I never did when I lived in Jersey, though sort of thought I should. I’ve marched about at 5.30am, armed with notebook, pen and camera. I’ve wedged myself amongst glowing granite rocks as the sun comes up, scribbling away whilst sandwiched between waterclour skies and sapphire seas.
But I’m back now. Back in my teeny tiny cottage in my ancient, rural village. I’m gazing out at the peaceful, endless fields. I’m supposed to love it here. And really, I do. But somehow, it feels vacuum-packed. So. I think I need a plan. Going back is ok so long as you’re still going forward, yes? I have 5 years before No. 2 son trundles off to University. For now, my life is here. But I’m not sure it will ever be home. Sometimes, now and again, special places and people make your heart and soul drift a little closer to the surface. The week filled me with joy. It made me feel more like ‘me’ somehow?
(If you click the photo, it will biggify by magic. No, really, it will!)
