Monday, 28 March 2011
It occurred to me, or rather it was pointed out to me on Friday that I am not bothered by the time.
I always used to be. I used to panic and become so stressed if I was late. If we (as in the ex and I) had to be somewhere at a certain time - even if it was just chilled drinks with friends, I would precision plan so we were there dot on time. However, we never were, and despite the stresses and planning, we were always late.
Our house, which is now my house was covered with clocks. Every room had one that ticked and chimed. We have weather stations with digital clocks in the bedroom, spare room and lounge. The ex would ensure that the clocks were accurate to the second, often dialling the speaking clock to get it right.
On Friday, I hosted a comedy night with the lovely Grant Sharkey on his Calm Down tour - basically he is going to people's living rooms and performing comedy. It was fab and I loved having all the girls over, cooking for the masses, drinking and having a giggle. As well as Grant, we had Simon, The Mentalist who confused and baffled the hell out of us with his tricks and mind reading. It was Simon who pointed the time thing out to me by saying: 'Do you realise that not one of your clocks in your house has the right time?'
I stood and thought; he was right. At the time he was stood in front of the oven which has a clock and the microwave is above it. Both clocks tell different wrong times. The only remaining 'tick tock... Ding dong' clock which the ex was kind enough to leave behind hasn't been wound up for months and is set on 2.40... Am or pm, I will never know. I also don't wear a watch. My bedroom does not have a clock and the clock in my car is wrong.
The only objects I have with the correct time is my phone and computer.
Yet, I am so efficient with my time and I am hardly ever late. I take the attitude of 'I will be there when I get there' and I generally am on time (I have a few friends who may disagree!)
I refuse to let time stress me out. Things happen as they are meant to and when they are meant to. By busting a gut to be there early isn't going to speed things along.
And if the clocks go back or forward and you wake not having the foggiest at what the time is, do what I did and ask Twitter (and then call my mum to double check)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, 20 March 2011
- Having Flossy over to stay, the banter and giggles and then being reminded about my individuality or what she describes as 'poor dress sense'.
- Coffee in the sunshine of a gorgeous new coffee house in town where I adore the owners and where I will be spending many Saturdays reading the papers and supping coffee.
- Giving my mum a bunch of flowers and seeing her smile and reminded that she is special.
- Baking cakes for friends to enjoy over a cuppa and a overdue natter.
- Pottering about the house, tidying, faffing, moving things, cleaning and generally being a bit houseproud.
- Spending hours gardening and seeing Spring take over the borders.
- Chinese takeaway with Nanny C and a good natter.
I also did things that a while ago, and even a few weeks ago I wouldn't have been bothered to do. Little things that were overwhelming me, I have cracked on and got it sorted. I changed a plug - the first time I have ever done that and instead of running to someone else and claiming my inability and uselessness, I had a go and did it. And when the flymo started, I might have done a little victory dance.
And then I thought about needing someone else and how things had changed. A few years ago I had someone else in my life who would fix things, cut the grass, tidy the garage, wash cars etc. Now I do it all and although there is still a lot more I could do, I feel quite proud of myself for doing and coping as I do.
I was thinking all this whilst taking a breather in the garden and I thought about how life is like a garden. Sometimes we plant seeds, we water and look after them in hope that they will grow into something beautiful. Sometimes they don't and sometimes they get so far, perhaps a few shoots and then something out of our control affects them and they fade. We never know why, we just accept it and try again, but the next time changing the variables to give it the best possible chance. Sometimes we plant shrubs and perennials which start as pretty blooms to give colour and zest. They are meant to withstand and they are meant to return year on year but not all of them do. Sometimes the environment just isn't good enough to keep them flourishing.
We are forever pruning and cutting back but sometimes not hard enough. We are just taking the tips and ends off which is ok for a while but it can promote growth in the wrong direction with new shoots left, right and centre. We need to not be scared and be more ruthless to cut back hard. Let what is underneath breathe and see the sunlight so that new life can grow from the core.
When all the old and dead has gone from the previous season and new shoots start to encourage colour, we all feel lighter, brighter and can enjoy the space much better. Every season we learn something new and there is always tendering that can be done.
Monday, 7 March 2011
I can't remember if I read this somewhere, whether it was on a film or maybe someone said it to me, but it has stuck in my mind:
Sometimes, the longest journey is the distance between two people.
I have been thinking about this a lot recently and how vast areas of space can become wedged between two people, pushing them further and further apart. How we can live our lives with someone, share the same house, bed and lifestyle yet be so far apart that bridges are too hard to build. We become stuck in our ways and routines, gently plodding along not realising that our steps are taking us away from what we really want and desire. When we notice how far we have come along a particular road, we try to take short cuts and turn at junctions which although may seem like a fun new destination, the journey will always have to be continued. Distance has to be covered until we stop, turn around and see how far we have drifted from the person that we loved and from ourselves, and this is when we realise that we have been travelling alone. The distance is now too great that we do not recognise them, time and space has distorted faces. We have a choice as to whether to make the long journey back, ironing out the bumps in the road along with way or whether the journey ends.
Sometimes distance is all there is. There has been no moving away or coming together. It just exists as a black hole - a space of unknown from the very start and one that closes when the time is right.
I put this on a shared blog but the more I read it the more I like it.
140 characters to create a new you
A timeline of words
To hide behind
140 characters to say what you need
A sense of being
140 characters to break lives
140 characters to fall in love
140 characters to make new friends
Soul mates to care
Hands to hold
140 characters is sometimes all I have.
Thursday, 3 March 2011
across my shoulders on a Sunday morning
Bright yellow rays tease my eyelids as a spring whisper
blows through my scarlet hair.
Outside harmonies sing smiles
life awakens and fills my lungs
with a new day
and hope of another chance