Mysteriously Underachieving

There is only one word for this here blog - disgrace. One gets the impression that nothing noteworthy happens EVER.

The year's almost over. Have you achieved anything? At ALL?

Well... no, not really. So?
Looking fab all day is hard work, too.

Perhaps a bit of a soul search is in order: are you leading the life that you want, REALLY want? If not, perhaps you should dare to ask further. Possibly along the lines of: WHY THE HELL NOT?!

I Wonder

why it is that whatever dustmotes and grains of sand are being blown about by gusts of wind tend to end up in MY eye.

No answer yet...

Choices Shmoices

It’s  11:02 of the clock. We are finding ourselves in Frankfurt, surprisingly enough. The northwestern sky I spot from this here location is undecided whether to rain or shine.

I know the feeling.

Croissant or cheese straw for breakfast?

Coffee or plain old water?

Such were the early morning hurdles that needed overcoming. They were not necessarily super high but it is early days. I am sure there’s more to come. I can feel it.

And I ask myself: hurdles and their height (or obstacles if you will) – are they of the It’s all in your head-category? Take sports for example, the hesitant approach more often than not lets you falter altogether in front of whatever is to be jumped over and across. Courage! (or simply: get a move on!) – that was the heart-warming advice my gym teacher used to give.

Why anyone on earth would want to hurtle towards an obstacle ye high and what is more to try and leap to their possible death in order to get across it is beyond me. Well, perhaps death is a little too much but sprained ankles and twisted knees ain’t no laughing matter either.

Anyway, suffice it to say that for the last two years of school I was exempt from any jumping activities. Hurdles in particular. Plus my lack of enthusiasm for sports simply did not allow for gravity defiance and other such nonsense. Just because Jesus walked on water does not mean that one has to attempt the impossible – could be construed as being presumptuous, even blasphemous.

However, the main goal was achieved – no bloody hurdles for me.

But back to the point – hesitation, the dilly-dallying, the wavering when faced with the sheer unconquerable, the unscalable, the seemingly un-doable will make any obstacle into Mount Etna or something. Enter the doubts and boom! you are in for visualisations of doom, of failure and all around loser-dom. And - need I say - you fail, fear becomes truth, nay reality, you baulk (and stand IN FRONT OF the bloody hurdle). 

What if – crazy thought alert – we switched off that overly busy mind of ours, remain in the moment, no past, no future. Very Zen. VERY difficult!

Yet also truly the only way, after all the past cannot be changed, the future is unforeseeable.

All we have is that fleeting moment which we have got to make the best of, live it to the fullest to the best of our abilities.  

Ah, the sheer simplicity of it all! Were it not for our fear, our ego, our pride.

We cling to times gone by, moments lost, minutes past, long to get back to a time when all was golden. Oh how we wish we could… if only.

Similarly, we paint our future, sometimes rosy, sometimes black, we predict and guess and basically worry too much. 

Remaining in the here and now is complicated, even spoiled, by our fears, our ego, our pride – that being our true weakness.

 

Something New

I have started my rowing career.
Olympic Games here I come.

Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?

I was pondering this yesterday.
I mentioned my clear-out, did I not.

Well, I have this box, as in 'actual physical box' where I keep a stack of e-mail print-outs. In the olden days these would have been LETTERS, handwritten and all, I know, I KNOW.... (sigh). I also have a seperate file in my e-mail account named Correspondence... you get the point, right?
Wow, so she gets e-mails....
Those are the reminders of the past. Part of my past. Pleasant and not so pleasant. But that is just how it goes. Nothing extraordinary about it. There is nothing at all about it that could be called special or even extraordinary.
In fact they are so unremarkable and non-specific to my life right now that I have not bothered to look at them in almost 2 years.
I knew they were there.
I ignored both boxes as well as one can.
I could not bring myself to a) burn the contents of cardboard box and b) delete Correspondence folder.

After a friend told me she got wheepy when finding old postcards from "that bastard" (her soon-to-be ex-husband), after I told her I still have most of the e-mail conversations saved or printed out, (yeah, perhaps a touch obsessive.) she simply looked at me questioningly. Why?!
I don't know.
Because I thought some day I would get them out and re-read them and I don't know LEARN something...?

Well, you HAVE learned something already: he was a shit. he was not good for you. Not even close to good enough. You were not even in the same category. So there's your lesson for you.
MOVE!
ON!

Part of my inability to let go is vanity I think.
It's pathetic but I do believe I wrote some pretty witty and insightful stuff then. And so naturally I want to hold on to those musings, keep them.
Again with the posterity!
I am sure yesterday it was established that no one gives a shit. The world keeps on turning. With or without some idiotic e-mails written over 2 years ago.
NO ONE CARES!
Believe it, girl. What you are up to in your little head is so inconsequential, it is elaborate to even say/write that it is in fact inconsequential.
So why does the human mind obsess on occasion about the ickle things in one's life?
Perhaps they were not so ickle.
Perhaps - and I realise that not so much with shock (because I have guessed this) but rather with a certain tiredness - this chapter has not been closed, for the sole reason that it has not been dealt with in an appropriate manner.

Maybe this is the time and the place. When it comes to digesting, dealing, sorting, this is a good place as any. It does not matter really (see above).
But what does matter is moving on. Moving away from the past with all one's faculties still intact and, what is more, with one's head screwed back on.

Let me start then, at random.
This is after all just me rambling. About . . . stuff. That's happened. That's never been aired properly and thus has been left to fester and boil. It is about time it was set straight:


I thought revenge, I thought doom, I thought bunny-boiling. Which is a normal course I do believe.
Well, not the bunny-boiling - but I am making a point here.
The point of anger. Something I have only ever allowed myself for moments, for tiny alotments of time.
In order to be able to say that I am mature and I get it, it didn't work out.
In order to be able to be the strong one that moves on, I held on to this anger, in effect holding it back. For fear of totally falling apart.


WHAT A CROCK O' SHITE!

Things Fall Apart - as The Roots so wisely said - and people fall apart, too - as I am sure anyone has noted once or twice in their lives but just did not bother to make an album about it.

Void, I am sorry - I will have to stop here.
Whatever excuse you accept.... oh right, you don't give a shit... ha, I forgot for just a sec.

Anyway, be back soon.