Tag: Reflections

I like to write.

I like the process of it, the act of it if you will, I enjoy the space my brain floats into when I start writing. Ever since I first used a computer there is a part of me that still marvels at the way I can watch words appear on the screen as I tap them out on a keyboard.

My approach to writing varies. Sometimes I’ll be inspired to write in response to something I’ve read or heard elsewhere. I used to do more of that, my archives are littered with one line/one paragraph responses, but for some reasons I’ve moved away from that.

Sometimes I have some vague idea of what I’ll write about before I start but rarely does it end up the way I intended, and that’s another reason I enjoy the process of writing and why it’s where I turn to when I’m trying to pull my thoughts together. That’s why this blog contains so many of my thoughts and experiences, it’s part of how I make sense of them.

Mind you, I know I am equally prone to indulging the more whimiscal side of my nature from time to time; the day dreamer who watches raindrops trace their way down a window pane. Perhaps that’s why I no longer write shorter posts, do I fancy myself a Writer? I know I love writing, words have always drawn me in, but I’ve never really pushed myself in the direction.

The other day I wondered how it would be like to not have to work any more. What would I do? I know I could fill my time, but I fear I would waste it.

Define waste. I work to live, to pay bills and be able to afford nice things and have nice experiences. Yet I constantly feel like I’m wasting time, that I could do more and live more if I didn’t have to work.

I am 40, is this at play? Am I looking far ahead and wondering why I want to do THIS for another 30 years? Not so much planning for retirement as pondering a long slow descent into the life I want. A simple life, with fewer things, easier days, working at my own pace on things I feel passionate about.

Ahhh passion, such a strange word so easily thrown around. Immediately the focus is not on one thing but many, jack of all trades and so on. Of them all this blog, or at least the act of writing posts, is still the longest running passion I have managed to maintain. Is this where I should focus?

I don’t think it is, but then I don’t know what the future holds. I conjure up another day dream of my day spent in a cafe, tapping away at the keyboard on my eagerly anticipated second novel.

Funny how I never dream of writing the first.

The older I get the more aware I become of the truth that drives the many and varied philosophical cliches that pepper my day. They are so frequent and so subtle, and are usually delivered as a passing thought, that they barely register. But at present one seems to be stuck in my head and is becoming increasingly noticeable – the same way, I guess, that whenever you buy a new car, suddenly there are loads of them around – it’s the one about acknowledging that life is a journey and that the journey is more important than the destination.

I like to plan. At any given point in the day I’ll know what I’m doing next and likely have an approximate time in mind. This is not always a good thing (I can get a bit restless if my timings aren’t going to plan) but most of the time it helps me achieve some semblance of being a grown up.

I tell myself that this is all because I have a bad memory and if I don’t have a plan I’ll forget to do something, or forget to be somewhere. I use my calendar and to do lists heavily and, as a result, my brain is usually filled with time driven cues to help me remember to do things; ‘I’ll leave at 6pm so I’m home for 6.30pm and it’ll only take me 30mins to do the hoovering then I can …’, it sounds a bit anal I know but it’s a system that’s worked for me for a long time.

More recently I’ve been wondering if there is more to it than that. Perhaps the reason I like to plan my days and ‘near future’ weeks is because I know there isn’t much point planning that much further ahead. Even things like ‘go on holiday’ are broken down into the things to do today, and the things to do tomorrow. Beyond that I know the weeks will come towards me as they always have, and always will (that’s not meant to sound profound, just stating the facts). In other words, I know there isn’t any point planning things in great detail too soon as life will, inevitably, crap all over that nonsense whenever it gets the chance.

Oddly, the one thing I’ve never had is a plan for my life. I’m very much led by my emotions and I guess I’ve been lucky to be where I am today. Looking back there are some decisions which I would’ve made differently, of course, but I wouldn’t change them.

In the past my lack of planning was more down to how I reacted to what I thought were expectations or hopes that others were placing on me. Life seemed almost pre-ordained back then – go to college, get a job, get married, have kids – but then life started throwing some curveballs and it slowly started to sink in that while it’s good to have dreams and aspirations, and you absolutely should plan to try and meet them, life will ALWAYS throw you some curveballs. I think it’s how you deal with the curveballs that really defines who you are, not where you are, how much you earn, or what your ‘social status’ is.

It’s not been an easy, or quick, lesson for me, but the last couple of years have found me realising a lot about myself as I try and understand and empathise with others on their journey. As mine hasn’t been planned, I guess I’ve used the ‘near future’ planning to give myself a comfort zone to stop me worrying about what might happen in the months to come.

More recently, as my relationships evolve and grow, I’ve been trying to find the balance with my partners journeys, seeking out where I can help, where I should support, and where I’m not needed.

Being poly means I have to understand that everyone has a different journey and we are all at different points at different times. Not only are we different ages, but we have different jobs, different passions, different outlooks on some things. We all come from different backgrounds and places and have been through different life experiences.

Looking at where I am in my life, and where my partners are in theirs, it’s clear that whilst we are all on a similar path, we are on different journeys. It’s a subtle realisation, but I find myself changing my position at times depending on where I think one of my partners is on that given day, it’s a soft switch from ‘I will always be right beside you’ view to ‘I will always support your decisions’. One is very much based on journey proximity, the other on understanding and acceptance of our journeys being different.

Right now we are all on the same path, even if our journeys take us on little detours from time to time, we seem to be finding our way back to each other. Of all the things that polyamory has given me, this is probably one of the slowest realised but most delightful.

We are a family.

The room is warm and quiet, a soft glow from the candles in the corner. Scattered around the floor are long unfurled mats each with an occupant, some lie prone, some sit with straight backs, legs crossed.

The atmosphere is one of calm as I pad my way, barefoot, to the far corner and unfurl my mat. I lie down, close my eyes and relax into this new experience.

The instructor enters and in a low gentle voice starts to direct our movements. Hands on stomach, focussing on each breath in and out, slowly and deliberately she guides us through the next 90 minutes of movements and thoughts, principles and reasonings.

My first time

It was my first yoga class, I had some nerves around whether I’d actually be able to contort my body as required, but I was also looking to, finally, trying Yoga. It’s is something I’ve spoken about trying for years, I’ve practised a little meditation in the past, I know a few of the poses thanks to Wii Fit and, unbeknownst to me, one of the techniques I use when I’m having trouble sleeping is the same as the final relaxing routine that our instructor took us through;

Lying on the floor, giving the floor the weight your body, slow steady breathing as you focus on one area of the body starting at the toes, then the feet, ankles, back of the leg and so on up through the neck and head.

I did struggle with some of the poses, but it’s a beginner class and Anthea quietly helped with the movements. My bad knee received a small towel for added cushioning, and a couple of foam bricks made some positions possible.

I left feeling … serene? I’m not sure what the right word is and at the time I described it as ‘floaty light’ which seems about as good a description as any. It was challenging at times, there is a lot to focus on at times between maintaining good form (if the body allows it) and controlling your breathe, and I’ll admit that at some points I was a lot more focussed on my inability to do either! I know that will change.

I’ve only had on Yoga class but I think I’m already hooked. There were some mid-pose moments that had me feeling very centred and quiet, fleeting moments for now but at least I know I’m on the right track. I’ve always admired the grace the Yoga seems to impart, both in body and mind, and I hope I can gain a little of both in the coming weeks.

For those in Glasgow, I’m taking classes at Yoga Healing Glasgow.

Isn’t it funny the things that stick in your memory? I have a pretty crap memory at the best of times so when something pops back into my brain I take it as a sign that my brain thinks it’s important, even if I’m not sure why.

Today the random memory was a conversation I had with my first boss. I had joined a small software company as a technical administrator, a wonderfully vague title that ended up with me becoming a technical writer. There were 12 software engineers of varying levels of experience and me. We worked in a cottage (this one) before moving to the converted boat building space next door (now a “Curves” outlet I see).

We would go to the pub every Friday for lunch. Occasionally stay there all afternoon, and on one infamous night end up staying there all night drinking whisky and tequila and someone may have not gone home and majorly pissed off his fiancée. But that’s a different story.

I liked it a lot, it was relaxed and looking back it was here I started to develop my work persona, or at least the part of it that has remained with me to this day. Some would call it being cheeky, some would say I was just silly, but regardless I quickly found I had the capacity to make people smile and laugh. It’s something that has stayed with me to this day, although it feels like it happens less often than it used to.

After my first year of employment my boss at the time took me into his office for a ‘review’. I was nervous and wanted to make a good impression and in the opening few minutes of the discussion I tried to lighten the mood with a few comments.

My boss sat back in his chair. Looked at me and said “ok, so let’s talk about this lack of seriousness”. And so we did, he took some time to point out that perceptions were important and that whilst I was at the start of my career I would maybe be better advised to tone it down a little lest people not take me seriously.

Whilst that all sounds very dull of him, he was right. I am, and remain, too quick to resort to cheap laughs. Over the past coughs years I’ve managed to gauge it a lot better. In truth it’s my go to during times of stress or high emotion (I am Chandler from Friends) but part of me doesn’t mind that.

I wrote a post a long time ago about this (almost 15 years ago) and I’ll admit I was pleased to see that my attitude hasn’t much changed as this is a part of me that I like.