Tag Archives: clarity

BAD HABITS DIE HARD

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November 1, a new month, a new day. Where am I? I am still lost in the midst of my chaos and clutter. I haven’t given up. I worked myself out of acedia in the month of October. Now that I am no longer wallowing in apathy, I am interested and energized in working my way into some kind of order and clarity. It is not easy as you might have guessed. I have vacuumed the kitchen, dining room and the sunroom. I did it in spurts of starts and stops.

I am in the stop phase, now nursing a cup of decaf. It’s my usual fall-back-on habit so it takes me a long time to do a chore. Bad habits die hard and very slowly. After years and years of this, it is very, very hard to correct. I have to be patient and kind with myself. I have made a start. I have acknowledged my wayward ways. I am dedicating November to work on sorting my paper clutter. This does not mean giving up my other goals of losing weight and piecing my log cabin squares together into a quilt.

My weight loss is nil to minimum. I could lose 1/2 pound one day and gain a pound the next. It is a bit discouraging. I am focusing on staying fit and getting stronger and more flexible. I am focusing on increasing my aerobic workout and maintaining the strength training. I can now do 50 skips at one time jumping rope and run up and down the stairs at the gym 5 times. It’s easier each week. I can aim for 60 skips and 6 times on the stairs on Monday.

I’m piecing 4 quilt squares into a block. I will have 25 blocks in the end. I’m almost there, just 2 blocks left to go. However, I shall stop and have a bit of a rest from everything. My head is buzzing, alerting me that I am over stimulated. I have to drop everything right now.

UBC Day 16 & 17 – The world is Flat

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

These days, I am hard pressed to feel the joie de vivre. The world/life feels rather flat. However, the jukebox in my head is still playing happy tunes. It helps that it’s sunny even though it is a cool morning. I’m having a second cup of tea and tapping a few words. They no longer come easily or bring the pleasure they once did. I’m having to work at it. They do bring some satisfaction as I see them slowly marching across the screen.

Meanwhile, in between ideas, words and paragraphs, bread is in the making. I’m in the process of the first rising. When I look at it, making bread is much like building a post. It can be complicated and daunting till you get familiar and make a regular habit of it. Then everything becomes second nature, intuitive and the thing builds itself. It becomes a comforting process, ironing out the wrinkles and stress of everyday life.

Now, the water, yeast and flour have become dough. It is poofing in the oven for an hour or until I’m ready to punch it down and shape them into the loaf pans. There is no hurry. Meanwhile, I’m having another cuppa and process some thoughts and words that came whilst kneading dough. They are elusive and fleeting. If I don’t tap them down, they will be lost. They are rather important insights which will help me have an easier and happier life.

It’s taken me this long, a lifetime, to fully understand the concept of not taking anything personal and letting go. It finally dawned on me this summer that when I’m hanging on to perceived hurts and wrong doings by others, I’m only hurting myself. Those ‘others’ don’t give a shit. They’ve moved on and having a merry old time with their lives. Meanwhile, I’m wasting time and energy embroiled in my own toxic emotions, solving nothing and harming myself. But until I had this moment of clarity, I could not let go.

The loaves are baking in the oven. I’m almost finished here. Wrapping up, I have to say I’m grateful for this space. It’s worth the struggle to put words onto the page. It keeps me somewhat sane and healthy. Now I see that the world is not flat. So I will struggle on.

FEAR OF SUCCESS

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Day 18 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I am empty of ideas and words for the page. To tell the truth, I am weary of challenges and trying and plodding forth. In this space and time, I would like to give everything a rest, not to give any thought or effort. In other words, I want to vegetate. But I know it’s not something to strive for. I’ve been spending some time there already. It hasn’t good for my mind. It leads to laziness and not living my best life. I’ve been sleep walking through my days.

I feel sleepiness tugging at me as I sit here tapping away. I sit up taller in the chair, realigning my head and shoulders. It’s as if I’m preparing for meditation. I hear the children’s voices from the daycare two houses away. I can see them playing through the fence slats. The sun is out. It is a beautiful day. I am now awake and in the moment. I’ve been missing too many of such moments, immersed too much in my own thoughts. I have to let in more of the world around me.

I’m struggling to tap out words and thoughts, the things I said I don’t want to do. But the effort is worth the struggle because the goal of this month of April is to see clarity and make progress. Neither is possible languishing and not being home in myself. I see now that I have been absent, not taking responsibility, making excuses, trashing myself, blaming circumstances. I could go on forever. I can see and understand a little now what is meant by fear of success. The fear is also about living up to that if, indeed, I do succeed. It feels safer to be in failure. But I no longer want to dwell in that valley. I can survive a little fear.

THE WHYS OF MY WRITING

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Do you like to write? If you do, why?

I have this compulsion and obsession to write because I love words, the sound of them and the beauty they can create stringing them together. I love how the letters, words and sentences march across the screen as I sit here tap, tapping. I write often/all the time for comfort. I write for the sound of a friendly voice, my own. I write to find objectivity, clarity, wisdom and whatever comes up in the conversation. I write to find and love myself as this poem expresses so beautifully.

Love After Love – Derek Walcott

The time will come 
when, with elation 
you will greet yourself arriving 
at your own door, in your own mirror 
and each will smile at the other’s welcome, 

and say, sit here. Eat. 
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart 
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you 

all your life, whom you ignored 
for another, who knows you by heart. 
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, 

the photographs, the desperate notes, 
peel your own image from the mirror. 
Sit. Feast on your life.

I feel the need of comfort today. The wind blows and howls all day as if someone is suffering and crying. I feel the unease of someone walking over my grave. The sun and cloud vies for dominance, casting shifting shadows over the landscape. I hug myself for comfort. Really I would like to be in bed with the covers over my head. But I hear this voice saying, You can run but you can’t hide. So here I am, facing the music, tap, tapping away a bit of the fear. There’s nowhere to run.