Tag: Reflections

Corpulent

The festive season is over, the last few chocolates have been scoffed (or taken into work), and soon it will be time to tentatively approach the bathroom scales and hope they don’t mock too hard.

By now the detritus of the last few weeks has been recycled and dumped, presents received have already been pressed into action, or hidden away in a cupboard only to be the recipient of a puzzled discovery in late August; where the hell did I get this?

Thoughts turn to the months that lie ahead, oh so many months, so much time with which we promise ourselves to do much. Plans are made, diets are started, gyms are joined, and the hope of new habits, better habits, are laid bare.

Less is more.

This is my resolution – in reality, my only aim is to stop NOT doing things – to find a path to less, declutter my mind, declutter my home, reduce my waistline. It was ever thus.

The struggles lie ahead of me, hope is strong in the light of the new year, this sentence sounds like it was taken from a Star Wars movie.

Basically what I’m trying to say, in lots and lots of words (because I also promised myself I’d try and write more… but no that is NOT a resolution), is that I will continue where I left off last year. I will declutter my life as best I know how.

I’ve already made a start by stepping away from Facebook. Once less place that pulls me into negative emotions, not to mention the amount of time wasted on nothing memorable at all. Yes, it might mean I won’t really understand what current meme people are aping, but in the grand scheme of things, as I continue my plummet towards old age and death, who gives a shit?

Anyway, Happy New Year and all that bobbins and, yes as it happens I had a bloody fantastic Christmas and New Year thanks!

Apples don’t fall far

I recently met up with my very pregnant sister for lunch during which she recounted the story of a recent shopping trip. My parents are buying her a pram as a new baby present and so went along to check out the prams and, after a few stops, my sister, her partner, and my Mum all start to feel some shopping fatigue. But not my Dad as it turns out he was the most excited of them all about this purchase.

This doesn’t surprise me at all. These days, prams are wonderful pieces of clever design allowing them to be multi-year, multi-use items; they are in every essence a clever gadget with lots of clever features. Designed to be operated with one hand, they have to be light enough for Mum, convert from car seat to crib to stroller, have storage for baby stuff and … I dunno, they are probably bluetooth and wifi enabled as well these days (actually the bluetooth one isn’t so bad, soothing music for the baby?).

Because I inherited a very similar gadget lust from him, it’s easy for me to imagine my Dad enjoying the process of viewing and comparing the features to make sure they got the best pram available. I’d do exactly the same as it’s what I tend to do with any purchase; Outside of food, clothes, and art, I tend to research most things that I buy to make sure I am getting the best option for my money.

The depth of my research varies, so when I replace my TV next year I know I’ll spend a lot of time on that, and for that I’ll revert to another inherited trait. The List (that capital L is very important).

I used to mock – actually I still do – my Mum for her use of Lists as she lives by them. Fast forward and today I’m the same, I am a heavy list user except these days I control mine electronically.

My Mum has stuck with paper and has her own specific way of working through her lists and woe betide you if you get it wrong!

For example…

Mum was recently in hospital for a couple of days (she’s fine, back home now!) and so my Dad rounded up the Christmas Card list (which is an item on a larger Christmas list of course). The card list has each person/family on a separate line, with a checkbox drawn next to it.

So my Dad wrote out Christmas cards, stuck address labels on envelopes (remember, he’s the gadget/tech guy) so they were ready for sending, and as he wasn’t sure on a couple of them he left them unchecked in the list.

He mentioned this to Mum and she asked if he’d marked the list properly. Unable to resist I asked ‘what do you mean properly?’.

Apparently for a two stage process you have to use the checklist PROPERLY. That means when you write a card you draw one diagonal line in the checkbox – from top left to bottom right (I shit you not, she was very specific on that) – and when the card is in the correctly addressed envelop you complete the X by drawing the other diagonal (from top right to bottom left for those playing along at home).

My suggestion of just using squiggles or circles earned me a punch on the arm.

That said, it’s a smart way to do it and, sitting at work I look at my own notebook where I capture actions and questions from meetings – checkboxes for something I need to do, question marks for things I need to think about – and it’s no great surprise that I am struck by just how much I am my parents son.

Which is a comforting thought in many ways, and not just because I’m 6′ tall and both my parents are below 5’8 (there have been times I’ve wondered…).

As I grow older I find myself seeing more and more of myself in my parents, a happy hybrid of both. I look at them and wonder how I will be when I reach their age and realise that I don’t really care. I don’t imagine I’ll change all that much from here on out, I’ve made my peace with who I am, and I guess I’m just happy that this apple fell from some pretty incredible trees.

Winding Down

The end of year is approaching and thoughts turn to Christmas, Hogmanay and 2016.

Every year the run up to Christmas feelsĀ the same; it always seems sudden, always a little too fraught, too full of worries that the gifts are good enough, that the days are fun enough, that the food is tasty enough and so on and so forth. Tis the season to worry?

But no matter how hard we worry, no matter how much we plan, thatĀ perfect Christmas never quite comes to pass, does it? There’s always something you’ve overlooked, or something that doesn’t quite go right, waiting in the wings to show you up or disappoint you.

Of course I’m old enough to know that this is just the way of things and I’m certainly a lot less stressed about the forthcoming festivities than I have been in the past and, given that my recent redundancy is making this year a lot more financially challenging, well that’s saying something!

Thankfully Hogmanay is planned already and will offer some quiet and peace, a chance to recover, gather ourselves and no doubt reflect on the past year, with thoughts of what the future might hold. Four of us, myself, Clare, Kirsty, and Mark (Kirsty’s other partner) are off to hide away in a cabin on the banks of Loch Lomond for a few nights. Books, board games, food, wine and plans to do nothing of particular note. I may be looking forward to this more than I am Christmas this year.

And so my eye turns to 2016.

My new job will dominate the first couple of months no doubt, as will adjusting to the intricacies of life as a contractor. Beyond that the usual desires – lose weight, decrease debt – will be on my mind, not to mention that novel I have sitting in 1st draft state (I use the word ‘state’ advisedly, it’s a bloody mess!). Beyond that I’m notĀ entirely sure what my silent resolutions might be and right now I’m not entirely bothered that I’m not entirely sure.

I will be resolved, as always, to be better at whatever I can, but I think I’ll try and let fate choose the what and wherefore for a change. Be better at letting life unfurl before me, rather than try to plan it in detail. Yes, that sounds good.

In 2016 I resolve to plan not to plan.

Create to win

I have no job at present.

All the fish I had have died.

I started Couch to 5K but my ITBS flared up so I can’t run.

I’m behind on my reading challenge for the year.

Just in case anyone was wondering why I’ve been a bit quiet on this blog, and other places, it’s because I’m failing. I predicted this would be a year for failing I just didn’t think it would be this kind.

I like to keep busy, so not working isn’t the best for my mental health, neither is not being involved in anything creative so I’m pushing to fix that in a few ways, one of which being NaNoWriMo which starts in November.

I know. I’m mental.

I just need a few wins.

Taking stock

You know that thing where your brain grabs hold of something, an event, a thought, a desire or loathing, and then twists it and wrings it out and leaves it floating around in your brain as either the best thing ever or the worst thing in the world? Yeah?

OK, so it’s usually the latter and as soon as it happens our little friend anxiety rocks up and is all ā€˜hey, you having a worry party? here, let me help!’. Because, as we all know, anxiety is a dick.

Being made redundant is one of those life moments that I’ve experienced three times now, and I know that this time I’ve got a better handle on things, yet that doesn’t stop anxiety kicking in every now and then to remind me that I DON’T HAVE A JOB OR ANY SECURITY AND SOON I WILL BE HOMELESS AND LIVING ROUGH ON THE STREETS AND MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY WILL ABANDON ME!!!

Which is, of course, complete and utter tosh.

I know I will find another job, and I know I have support from my all my loved ones, friends and family alike. The very worst case is probably that I have to move to find cheaper accommodation but I will still have the luxury of a roof over my head, and I know that is a very privileged position to be in.

Beyond that, I know that the support of my loved ones is there when I need it, which is something that our little friend anxiety keeps trying to trick me into disbelieving.

This past weekend has helped remind me that, yes, anxiety is both a dick and a liar, that regardless of the things they are dealing with themselves, both my partners will be understanding and supportive when I ask for help and, more than they realise, have helped drive away some of those anxious thoughts that were floating around in my head.

So as well as taking stock of my possession and my lifestyle, I am also taking stock of all of the good things that I have, for they are many, and how rich I really am. It’s a good place to be.

Dream Vacation

As we roll into summer (finally!) I’ve been pondering what my dream vacation would be, thinking back over previous holidays both home and abroad, and then lottery-win-daydreaming about what my ultimate vacation would be like.

It’s easy to roll out the 5-star, hell make it 6-star, experience as the greatest dream vacation. A car to pick us up and take us to the airport, no hanging around, waited on hand and foot, first-class seats-that-turn-into-beds on the flight, another car to whisk us to our hotel – our luggage would all be handled by someone else – and a room with large glass doors that opened on to an empty golden beach, palm trees, a beach side cocktail bar and warm blue waters beyond.

And perhaps it’s that simple, after all a dream vacation for me includes a lot of being pampered, being lazy and just chilling out and relaxing. It’s one of the reasons I’ve enjoyed the last two abroad holidays as they were all-inclusive.

But there is always the conflict, the part of me that wants to tackle a cycling holiday, or a walking holiday, or some other hybrid that would allow me to look back with a sense of accomplishment, a holiday that nourishes as much as nurtures.

Of course there are further considerations these days, how big is my carbon footprint and how much does flying to the other side of the world add to it? (says the man flying to Singapore later this year).

On the flip side I know the types of things I don’t want. I don’t want a Scottish/English/Irish bar. I don’t want ‘organised fun’, I’d rather not have hordes of screaming kids, and like many others I’d rather not be subjected too tourist-ey an environment.

So what is my dream vacation? How would I know?

Actually it’s pretty simple (like me). Gimme some place that is warm and sunny, that’s safe, that is ‘real’, and isn’t full of noisy, inconsiderate people and I’d be quite happy. I can take my music, read books, and generally chill out and I’m all good. If there a few things to do so much the better.

Be it Brighton or the Bahamas, Saint Tropez or Skye, as long as I’m with someone I love I don’t really care about much else.