Age is a funny thing it's relative, personal, and it's tied to time which is such an elastic concept that there seems to be no rhyme or reason. The passage of time is completely esoteric. You certainly can't pin it down.
Yesterday The Best Friend had a birthday. She was treated to the dubious pleasure of TLOML and I singing Happy Birthday onto her answering machine. The Best Friend was one of the youngest women in our class at school. In June I will turn 50 and TLOML hits her half century in November. Strangely,The Chef, who was featured recently in a newspaper article has managed to only be 47.... Hmmm very interesting, cause I am almost certain that she was actually older than me! LOL. Oh well, we know that there are some things that can halt the passage of time and most of them have to do with wealth and fame. I don't blame The Chef really; after all, 50 is a VERY BIG number!
Jazz, my blogging fibro sister, has written a great blog about feeling older than she is and rather than repeat all the things I wanted to say that she has already said I will just link to her here (I'm sure she won't mind). It's a great blog. So often I have ideas fermenting in my brain getting close to becoming a blog and Jazz will jump in just before I am ready to write it and steal all my thunder! Sometimes we seem to be eerily in sync.
My take on this feeling older actually needs to be credited to a conversation I had with The Best Friend a couple of months ago. She pointed out the way elderly people negotiate their way through a crowd. Many/most/perhaps all seniors move near other people with a visible hyper-vigilance. This isn't "defensive driving", it's "defensive walking". Keeping a very close eye on anyone else who is moving nearby and testing the ground before putting all weight on the leading foot has become a way of life for me. I get it, I really get how elderly people feel out in the world. I know what it's like to fear an accidental bump with a stranger - I know because it hurts! It hurts like (insert expletive of your choice) when I get jostled in a stupidmarket queue or when someone laughing unexpectedly steps back into me and it triggers a series of painful spasms that radiate from either the site of impact or from the part of me that moves unexpectedly to save myself. I now travel the world with the wary, skepticism of a bona fide Methuselah!
When I was a kid I never took a staircase at less than two steps at a time; almost every time I ran down steps I would jump down the last five or six. I touched a banister only to vault out of the stairs or down to the next flight. There were two speeds, flat out and stopped. Those days are gone. Now I traverse the globe with care, caution, and a desperate desire to anticipate the movements of any other things that move!
Last night I knocked over a glass of water. Startled myself which hurt my back. Dropped to my knees to wipe up the spillage which caused stabbing pains to explode from both knees. Reached under the bed with the bathmat and seriously popped some kind of tendon in my right shoulder. Then stood up and collapsed on the bed groaning in pain.... see what happens when I am surprised? Thank goodness TLOML was there to take over and clean up my mess. The knees and shoulder have yet to relent. So do I feel older than I am - damn straight I do. Do I move like someone older than I am - pretty much all the time (unless I forget or react and do something like I did with wiping up the spill last night). Do I have that suspicious hyper-vigilance about how other people are moving? Yep, I do.
So to all my geriatric followers (of whom I have none) I get it! I know you are careful and that the cranky look on your face is actually fear. I, like you, fear the unexpected. I don't need to bungee jump for thrills - walking through a crowd is about as much excitement as I can stand!
Showing posts with label taking chances. Show all posts
Showing posts with label taking chances. Show all posts
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Constant amazement and the super road trip
TLOML and I just sat down to watch some TV this evening and by complete happenstance stumbled across an interview with The Chef, with whom we went to school. I was in school with her from years 9 - 12 and TLOML was with her from Kindergarten to 8 and then 11 to 12 (the final two years of school saw us all at the same school). We, the two Displaceds, were stunned to see The Chef on TV as neither of us had ever seen her on TV before but more to the point we wondered what she would think if she could see the two of us, laying back on the couch in our underwear, holding hands, and watching TV. I think it would be a reasonably safe bet that we are the only two women named Displaced that The Chef has ever met. I wrote about The Chef once before in a blog I called "Thoughts on vulnerability". I don't suppose any of this is all that interesting aside from the fact that I am so constantly (literally) amazed by the turn my life has taken. Suddenly I have been transformed from someone on a long run of misfortune to The Luckiest Woman In The World!
The week in Sydney was very hectic, TLOML and I had to debate a little and juggle the competing priorities of each of our friends and families. On top of those moments of friction (that were all handled amicably and with ease) my body was freaking out a bit and was giving me a few very painful days. Last Friday, the 13th LOL, I had my last appointment with Dr McLovely and aside from filling up with petrol she was our last stop in Sydney. TLOML and I began our journey north. She had said so many times "I hate long car rides!", "I need to stop AT LEAST every two hours". I just shook my head because I not only LOVE long road trips but I am very goal focused so I push on and delay stops as long as possible. She had told me that she liked to relax in the morning and then head off after a leisurely layabout morning... I had told her that I need to get the work of driving done before I will relax and do anything "leisurely". It all looked quite foreboding! We had five days to travel 2400km. It seemed almost a certainty that this journey would be the cause of our first fight.
The first night was spent with my brother and his partner and that took us only about 450km out of Sydney. The plan was to try to get up the coast in the morning so that we would have time for a swim in the surf before going to my brother's. There are few places in the world with beaches more beautiful than the Mid North Coast of NSW. Seemingly endless tracts of white sand and the glorious South Pacific sending in wave after wave makes it a very appealing place to anyone who enjoys body-surfing. Everything went pretty much according to plan with one rest room stop en route and plenty of snacks that were cleverly packed by TLOML. By mid afternoon we were swimming alone on a beautiful beach. TLOML is particularly keen to swim where there are waves because her tropical island home is inside the Great Barrier Reef and is therefore inadequate in the wave department. I love the surf and always have but I can't really trust myself any more. I used to be a very strong swimmer but I have to dial it way back now and make sure that I pace myself. The last thing I need is a big exercise induced flare while I am trying to drive up the coast! The night with my brother was great. We had a delicious dinner with super tender steak and vegetables. Time slipped away far too quickly.
I woke early in the morning and found a few extra corners of space in Shermie (my car) to jam in some of my old tools that my brother's partner had been minding for me (for 12 years LOL). I will be needing them if I am going to make myself useful around the place here. We headed off in fairly good time. The second night was also planned. We needed to travel about another 450km to The Gold Coast where we were staying with TLOML's step-mother for the evening. TLOML was pretty keen to get another swim and we were shooting for a stop at Byron Bay. Unbeknownst to either of us Byron has been bypassed by the highway and I completely missed the turn off. It was such an unobtrusive sign! I was sure there would be another exit but after about 10 minutes still heading north it became apparent that there wasn't one! Oh well Brunswick Heads would have to do. TLOML pouted a little about missing Byron but we were in agreement that going back was too much of an inconvenience so she picked up the lip and we made for the gorgeous surf beach at Brunswick. We had a lovely swim, the waves were a little too choppy for body surfing but it was still refreshing and invigorating. We arrived in Surfer's Paradise with time to spare. We had a terrific evening with TLOML's step-mum, including beautiful accommodation on the 37th floor AND dinner at a seafood buffet where I managed to consume about 100 oysters. (I know I sound like a terrible piggy but there was a challenge involved!!!)
The third day we were planning to have an early swim in the surf and be on the road by 10am. TLOML was having such a nice time with her step-mum that we decided to skip the swim and leave a bit later. Still not a single cross word between us! Step-mum (who is lovely!!!) made us the most beautiful gourmet sandwiches for the road - smoked salmon, ricotta cheese, multi-grain bread, avocado - absolutely scrumptious! We had vaguely planned to head to the most northern surf beach in Queensland but unfortunately on this day we hit quite a lot of rain. I was not making great time but skipping the swim allowed us to reach Rockhampton for the night. This night was spent in a strange motel. My Minnesotan friends would call it "different". For a start the woman at the desk seemed so incredibly depressed that she looked like something from 'Night of the Living Dead'. The entire outside of the motel was tiled in big pseudo travertine tiles. When we managed to get inside the room we found that everything but the ceiling was tiled too!!! There was a single bedside table with the name of the motel written on the top AND on the drawers in permanent marker, the jug and the bar fridge were similarly labeled. Still the sheets were clean, TV worked and we were together!
Day four was trying because of some quite heavy rain and the almost complete lack of overtaking lanes on the two lane "highway". The day before had featured occasional signs saying "overtaking lane in 5 km" presumably to prevent us taking big risks overtaking but on day four no such signs appeared. I guess one saying "overtaking lane in 347 km" might not have been as effective. We actually could have made our destination on day four with just a little more endurance but we decided to stop about an hour south. We stayed in a nice motel and ordered food from the restaurant, none of the furniture or appliances were labeled with the motel's name so this motel appeared to have a higher standard of clientele.
Right on schedule we arrived in the morning on Day Five and were home by early afternoon. We even unloaded the car, though doing that nearly finished me off. I gratefully collapsed and was lovingly cared for by TLOML.
So here we are. Still not a single argument nor a cross word. Every decision has been reached by consensus. It's almost freaky how well we relate and how easily we get along. We are both quite emotional and sensitive women yet we seem to be able to help each other get through and over things more easily. It occurred to me that we defuse each other. Somehow we give or say the right thing at the right time. It is almost like between us we have a self-leveling mechanism that settles and resolves the issues that each of us has sometimes struggled with alone. It feels like we have always been together in the way that we manage to interact with virtually no anxiety. I can truly say that I have never had any relationship, in any capacity, even in work or in friendship, that was so harmonious. She is slender and beautiful with sparkling blue eyes that make me melt from any distance and I am completely, head over heels, besotted with her. I'm my own flawed and dilapidated self and yet she loves me, I mean, she really loves me and constantly demonstrates it with care and affection. Between us there is an easy flow of loving words and acts that completely back up and support the words. Doing not just saying. I am quite sure that we should be handing out nausea pills to anyone who has to spend time with us together.
We sometimes wonder what might have happened if a fortune teller had shown us a picture of this time and place when we were schoolgirls together 32 years ago. We both think we would have said "Why wait?" The interesting thing is that the answer to the question "Why wait?" was only revealed by the waiting. We have each learned some hard lessons and seen some dark days; enough to know that something as beautiful as this needs to be cherished and protected; enough to know that, as perfect as it feels right now, there will be obstacles and difficulties we need to face together as time moves on; enough to know just how much we should appreciate each other - we know how lucky we are.
So what would The Chef think?
I hope she would be happy for us both!
The week in Sydney was very hectic, TLOML and I had to debate a little and juggle the competing priorities of each of our friends and families. On top of those moments of friction (that were all handled amicably and with ease) my body was freaking out a bit and was giving me a few very painful days. Last Friday, the 13th LOL, I had my last appointment with Dr McLovely and aside from filling up with petrol she was our last stop in Sydney. TLOML and I began our journey north. She had said so many times "I hate long car rides!", "I need to stop AT LEAST every two hours". I just shook my head because I not only LOVE long road trips but I am very goal focused so I push on and delay stops as long as possible. She had told me that she liked to relax in the morning and then head off after a leisurely layabout morning... I had told her that I need to get the work of driving done before I will relax and do anything "leisurely". It all looked quite foreboding! We had five days to travel 2400km. It seemed almost a certainty that this journey would be the cause of our first fight.
The first night was spent with my brother and his partner and that took us only about 450km out of Sydney. The plan was to try to get up the coast in the morning so that we would have time for a swim in the surf before going to my brother's. There are few places in the world with beaches more beautiful than the Mid North Coast of NSW. Seemingly endless tracts of white sand and the glorious South Pacific sending in wave after wave makes it a very appealing place to anyone who enjoys body-surfing. Everything went pretty much according to plan with one rest room stop en route and plenty of snacks that were cleverly packed by TLOML. By mid afternoon we were swimming alone on a beautiful beach. TLOML is particularly keen to swim where there are waves because her tropical island home is inside the Great Barrier Reef and is therefore inadequate in the wave department. I love the surf and always have but I can't really trust myself any more. I used to be a very strong swimmer but I have to dial it way back now and make sure that I pace myself. The last thing I need is a big exercise induced flare while I am trying to drive up the coast! The night with my brother was great. We had a delicious dinner with super tender steak and vegetables. Time slipped away far too quickly.
I woke early in the morning and found a few extra corners of space in Shermie (my car) to jam in some of my old tools that my brother's partner had been minding for me (for 12 years LOL). I will be needing them if I am going to make myself useful around the place here. We headed off in fairly good time. The second night was also planned. We needed to travel about another 450km to The Gold Coast where we were staying with TLOML's step-mother for the evening. TLOML was pretty keen to get another swim and we were shooting for a stop at Byron Bay. Unbeknownst to either of us Byron has been bypassed by the highway and I completely missed the turn off. It was such an unobtrusive sign! I was sure there would be another exit but after about 10 minutes still heading north it became apparent that there wasn't one! Oh well Brunswick Heads would have to do. TLOML pouted a little about missing Byron but we were in agreement that going back was too much of an inconvenience so she picked up the lip and we made for the gorgeous surf beach at Brunswick. We had a lovely swim, the waves were a little too choppy for body surfing but it was still refreshing and invigorating. We arrived in Surfer's Paradise with time to spare. We had a terrific evening with TLOML's step-mum, including beautiful accommodation on the 37th floor AND dinner at a seafood buffet where I managed to consume about 100 oysters. (I know I sound like a terrible piggy but there was a challenge involved!!!)
The third day we were planning to have an early swim in the surf and be on the road by 10am. TLOML was having such a nice time with her step-mum that we decided to skip the swim and leave a bit later. Still not a single cross word between us! Step-mum (who is lovely!!!) made us the most beautiful gourmet sandwiches for the road - smoked salmon, ricotta cheese, multi-grain bread, avocado - absolutely scrumptious! We had vaguely planned to head to the most northern surf beach in Queensland but unfortunately on this day we hit quite a lot of rain. I was not making great time but skipping the swim allowed us to reach Rockhampton for the night. This night was spent in a strange motel. My Minnesotan friends would call it "different". For a start the woman at the desk seemed so incredibly depressed that she looked like something from 'Night of the Living Dead'. The entire outside of the motel was tiled in big pseudo travertine tiles. When we managed to get inside the room we found that everything but the ceiling was tiled too!!! There was a single bedside table with the name of the motel written on the top AND on the drawers in permanent marker, the jug and the bar fridge were similarly labeled. Still the sheets were clean, TV worked and we were together!
Day four was trying because of some quite heavy rain and the almost complete lack of overtaking lanes on the two lane "highway". The day before had featured occasional signs saying "overtaking lane in 5 km" presumably to prevent us taking big risks overtaking but on day four no such signs appeared. I guess one saying "overtaking lane in 347 km" might not have been as effective. We actually could have made our destination on day four with just a little more endurance but we decided to stop about an hour south. We stayed in a nice motel and ordered food from the restaurant, none of the furniture or appliances were labeled with the motel's name so this motel appeared to have a higher standard of clientele.
Right on schedule we arrived in the morning on Day Five and were home by early afternoon. We even unloaded the car, though doing that nearly finished me off. I gratefully collapsed and was lovingly cared for by TLOML.
So here we are. Still not a single argument nor a cross word. Every decision has been reached by consensus. It's almost freaky how well we relate and how easily we get along. We are both quite emotional and sensitive women yet we seem to be able to help each other get through and over things more easily. It occurred to me that we defuse each other. Somehow we give or say the right thing at the right time. It is almost like between us we have a self-leveling mechanism that settles and resolves the issues that each of us has sometimes struggled with alone. It feels like we have always been together in the way that we manage to interact with virtually no anxiety. I can truly say that I have never had any relationship, in any capacity, even in work or in friendship, that was so harmonious. She is slender and beautiful with sparkling blue eyes that make me melt from any distance and I am completely, head over heels, besotted with her. I'm my own flawed and dilapidated self and yet she loves me, I mean, she really loves me and constantly demonstrates it with care and affection. Between us there is an easy flow of loving words and acts that completely back up and support the words. Doing not just saying. I am quite sure that we should be handing out nausea pills to anyone who has to spend time with us together.
We sometimes wonder what might have happened if a fortune teller had shown us a picture of this time and place when we were schoolgirls together 32 years ago. We both think we would have said "Why wait?" The interesting thing is that the answer to the question "Why wait?" was only revealed by the waiting. We have each learned some hard lessons and seen some dark days; enough to know that something as beautiful as this needs to be cherished and protected; enough to know that, as perfect as it feels right now, there will be obstacles and difficulties we need to face together as time moves on; enough to know just how much we should appreciate each other - we know how lucky we are.
So what would The Chef think?
I hope she would be happy for us both!
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
On the move again!
Oy Vey!
Tomorrow I am returning from the tropics to glorious Sydney. TLOML and I are being picked up at the airport by The Best Friend, which is wonderful. Then back to her house to see The Boy and home to The Horsewoman's house to pack up my things and get ready to move... (again)...
I think I have moved seven times in the two years that ended on Christmas Eve. It has been far far too often. This coming move will be my eighth in twenty-five months. The last move was the hardest... Culling twelve years of accumulation into six checked bags across the Pacific was exhausting, heartbreaking and expensive. I was ruthless and I am still looking for things I left behind. I had this stupid outfit of girl clothes... white pants, a mauve tank top, and a crinkled floral over-shirt of white with mauve flowers... I have the bloody ugly shirt that I never liked, and the tank top that goes with nothing else I own, but can I find the damn white pants (the only useful part of the outfit) anywhere? *big frustrated sigh* I just have to console myself that I made the best decisions I could at the time, as TLOML so often says "We are all just doing our best".
Part of me is dreading the return to Sydney because it is going to be incredibly hectic. We both have people we love who we want and need to see. In the four months since I returned to Australia I have reached out over and over to my old friends, my friends from school and university, my friends from my crazy early jobs and even my ex-girlfriends and without exception they have welcomed me into their lives in spite of my pathetic attempts to maintain contact over the decades. I can't just jump in my car with TLOML and smile and wave and yell "So long and thanks for all the fish!" I love and appreciate my old friends and I really want to get a chance to see them again this trip and thank them. I will be leaving The Boy and although I know he is an adult now he will always be my baby, for that matter he is also one of my best friends and is a trustworthy confidant and a thoughtful adviser. I have really enjoyed being as close to him as we have been the last couple of months.
Of course there will be other trips to Sydney but this move is really significant. I am packing up and piling my junk in the car and heading 2400 km (about 1500 miles) north with every expectation of staying there forever.
TLOML and I have had a busy and quite stressful couple of days tying to get ready for the return to Sydney and struggling to coordinate the competing priorities of the people in Sydney, and even to some extent, the people up here. Still we have not had a cross word or a moments disagreement, if anything we have both been a calming influence on each other. We are well aware that "real life" will not be the same as either the lazy days or the frantic preparation this "holiday time" has provided but I'm pretty certain we will be fine. I will be studying and she will be back at work and I think we will eagerly anticipate our time together.
So here I go again another giant leap of a move but somehow this one just feels different, it feels right and it feels relaxed in spite of the chaos of the time in Sydney. I do feel anxiety about getting everything done and seeing everyone we really want to see but I have not had even one moments anxiety about if this is the right decision or if TLOML is the right person. I named her TLOML and that continues to be the most apt and accurate description.
We will be fine because we will be together.
Tomorrow I am returning from the tropics to glorious Sydney. TLOML and I are being picked up at the airport by The Best Friend, which is wonderful. Then back to her house to see The Boy and home to The Horsewoman's house to pack up my things and get ready to move... (again)...
I think I have moved seven times in the two years that ended on Christmas Eve. It has been far far too often. This coming move will be my eighth in twenty-five months. The last move was the hardest... Culling twelve years of accumulation into six checked bags across the Pacific was exhausting, heartbreaking and expensive. I was ruthless and I am still looking for things I left behind. I had this stupid outfit of girl clothes... white pants, a mauve tank top, and a crinkled floral over-shirt of white with mauve flowers... I have the bloody ugly shirt that I never liked, and the tank top that goes with nothing else I own, but can I find the damn white pants (the only useful part of the outfit) anywhere? *big frustrated sigh* I just have to console myself that I made the best decisions I could at the time, as TLOML so often says "We are all just doing our best".
Part of me is dreading the return to Sydney because it is going to be incredibly hectic. We both have people we love who we want and need to see. In the four months since I returned to Australia I have reached out over and over to my old friends, my friends from school and university, my friends from my crazy early jobs and even my ex-girlfriends and without exception they have welcomed me into their lives in spite of my pathetic attempts to maintain contact over the decades. I can't just jump in my car with TLOML and smile and wave and yell "So long and thanks for all the fish!" I love and appreciate my old friends and I really want to get a chance to see them again this trip and thank them. I will be leaving The Boy and although I know he is an adult now he will always be my baby, for that matter he is also one of my best friends and is a trustworthy confidant and a thoughtful adviser. I have really enjoyed being as close to him as we have been the last couple of months.
Of course there will be other trips to Sydney but this move is really significant. I am packing up and piling my junk in the car and heading 2400 km (about 1500 miles) north with every expectation of staying there forever.
TLOML and I have had a busy and quite stressful couple of days tying to get ready for the return to Sydney and struggling to coordinate the competing priorities of the people in Sydney, and even to some extent, the people up here. Still we have not had a cross word or a moments disagreement, if anything we have both been a calming influence on each other. We are well aware that "real life" will not be the same as either the lazy days or the frantic preparation this "holiday time" has provided but I'm pretty certain we will be fine. I will be studying and she will be back at work and I think we will eagerly anticipate our time together.
So here I go again another giant leap of a move but somehow this one just feels different, it feels right and it feels relaxed in spite of the chaos of the time in Sydney. I do feel anxiety about getting everything done and seeing everyone we really want to see but I have not had even one moments anxiety about if this is the right decision or if TLOML is the right person. I named her TLOML and that continues to be the most apt and accurate description.
We will be fine because we will be together.
Saturday, 24 December 2011
I survived
Actually I survived and perhaps even prospered.
It is midnight and Christmas just began with a kiss...
In four and a half hours we have to get up and go to the airport from whenc. we shall jet away to TLOML's island home.
The family do today was very nice and went quite well. I think we were all being rather careful to stay on our best behaviour but it was successful. My step-sister really rose to the occasion and kept the conversation light, bubbly and inclusive, my nephews were terrific and my straight brother and I exchanged phone numbers and even shared a chuckle or two. The Boy was charming but a little distant and I am glad he had the opportunity to spend some time with his cousins. All in all not too bad!.
The evening was spent with TLOML's brother and his family and The Boy and I could not have felt more welcome. It was a lovely evening capped off by a call from TLOML's niece who is in Germany. She especially wanted to talk to TLOML and I which was really special and inclusive.
Things are going pretty damn well actually!
I need to talk about the physical stuff soon but I just don't have time for now... surviving on that front has been a bit more of a challenge but more on that later.
It is midnight and Christmas just began with a kiss...
In four and a half hours we have to get up and go to the airport from whenc. we shall jet away to TLOML's island home.
The family do today was very nice and went quite well. I think we were all being rather careful to stay on our best behaviour but it was successful. My step-sister really rose to the occasion and kept the conversation light, bubbly and inclusive, my nephews were terrific and my straight brother and I exchanged phone numbers and even shared a chuckle or two. The Boy was charming but a little distant and I am glad he had the opportunity to spend some time with his cousins. All in all not too bad!.
The evening was spent with TLOML's brother and his family and The Boy and I could not have felt more welcome. It was a lovely evening capped off by a call from TLOML's niece who is in Germany. She especially wanted to talk to TLOML and I which was really special and inclusive.
Things are going pretty damn well actually!
I need to talk about the physical stuff soon but I just don't have time for now... surviving on that front has been a bit more of a challenge but more on that later.
Friday, 4 November 2011
When vim and vigour vamoose
It sounded like a cute title and then I read the definitions and was struck by the degree of applicability!
(The following definitions are taken from Dictionary.com)
My friend from Kindergarten/Primary School (Elementary for you North Americans) and I spent nearly three hours together talking and to be honest we never missed a beat. We ate, had a beer, I stretched and hobbled around as needed (and managed to resist the urge to lie down on my booth seat!) and we talked.
Ours was a bit of a funny story really. As kids we were thrust together to some extent cause our mother's were friends, we were in a small school together and to be honest neither of us really fit in with the "cool kids". We were both being raised by divorced women (no big deal today it was a different story in 1970!) We both had professional and relatively affluent fathers who had shit on our mothers in the divorces. We both read like wildfire and we both had a passion for the works of the wonderful Enid Blyton. Our closest times were spent playacting characters from these Enid Blyton books and running around the neighbourhood, and the mudflats on the Lane Cove River, pretending we were having the same kind of adventures as the Famous Five or the Secret Seven. In year 5, I was moved to a different school and things changed. Although she joined me at the new school from years 7 to 10 we never resumed the same level of close friendship. She was an intellectual bookworm (a genius I believe) who was quite a loner and I was a gregarious, athletic girl who was always participating in one activity or another. We remained friendly but we weren't really friends and our shared history slid away like so much other flotsam and jetsam bobbing in our wakes.
You must be wondering by now what this has to do with my title and the definitions in my introduction. Never fear! I won't leave you hanging - I'm on my way back to the point.
Of all of the old friends I have reconnected with no other has referenced so clearly who I was when I was young. She said, "You were fearless, You'd do anything!" She pointed to a palm tree that probably stood fifty feet tall, and said, "You would have been at the top of that." I would have too. I would have shimmied up that naked trunk, like a monkey, and hung upside down from the fronds at the top. She told me something I had never known; that she had envied me my fearless physicality. I was the living definition of vigour and enthusiasm. My barely controllable surplus of energy and my readiness to participate were a hindrance to me as a teenager. I didn't have Buckley's chance of even simulating the droll ennui of the "cool girls" the vitality, the vim, was sparking from me like electricity, in fact I was the very picture of a "live wire".
Until a few years ago I would have still described myself as very enthusiastic. One of the reasons I loved living in the US is that enthusiasm is appreciated there - it actually attracts people rather than making them look at you like you are embarrassingly energetic. I think mentally I am still capable of enthusiasm, I get enthusiastic about writing these blogs, I am enthusiastic to convey clearly what I think and feel. The outward signs of my mental passion have dimmed though... My body no longer permits me to move or respond quickly or forcefully, and the crisp and powerful gestures have been watered down to careful and restrained movements.
Twelve hours from now I am going to attend the Rally to Re-Occupy Sydney and I am hoping that my friend from kindergarten will be there. She doesn't like crowds, but she said she will try. My other friend has said she is coming too (the one I met up with at the other rally).
I don't like crowds either and I'll stay well clear of any mass of people, I'm not fearless any more, I don't want to be bumped or jostled - that shit hurts! I would go everywhere in a bubble of padding if I could. I guess the bottom line is that when vim and vigour vamoose you have no choice other than to take it very gently.
(The following definitions are taken from Dictionary.com)
- Vim (Noun) - lively or energetic spirit; enthusiasm; vitality
- Vigour (Noun) - healthy physical or mental energy or power; vitality
- Vamoose (Verb) - to leave hurriedly or quickly; decamp
My friend from Kindergarten/Primary School (Elementary for you North Americans) and I spent nearly three hours together talking and to be honest we never missed a beat. We ate, had a beer, I stretched and hobbled around as needed (and managed to resist the urge to lie down on my booth seat!) and we talked.
Ours was a bit of a funny story really. As kids we were thrust together to some extent cause our mother's were friends, we were in a small school together and to be honest neither of us really fit in with the "cool kids". We were both being raised by divorced women (no big deal today it was a different story in 1970!) We both had professional and relatively affluent fathers who had shit on our mothers in the divorces. We both read like wildfire and we both had a passion for the works of the wonderful Enid Blyton. Our closest times were spent playacting characters from these Enid Blyton books and running around the neighbourhood, and the mudflats on the Lane Cove River, pretending we were having the same kind of adventures as the Famous Five or the Secret Seven. In year 5, I was moved to a different school and things changed. Although she joined me at the new school from years 7 to 10 we never resumed the same level of close friendship. She was an intellectual bookworm (a genius I believe) who was quite a loner and I was a gregarious, athletic girl who was always participating in one activity or another. We remained friendly but we weren't really friends and our shared history slid away like so much other flotsam and jetsam bobbing in our wakes.
You must be wondering by now what this has to do with my title and the definitions in my introduction. Never fear! I won't leave you hanging - I'm on my way back to the point.
Of all of the old friends I have reconnected with no other has referenced so clearly who I was when I was young. She said, "You were fearless, You'd do anything!" She pointed to a palm tree that probably stood fifty feet tall, and said, "You would have been at the top of that." I would have too. I would have shimmied up that naked trunk, like a monkey, and hung upside down from the fronds at the top. She told me something I had never known; that she had envied me my fearless physicality. I was the living definition of vigour and enthusiasm. My barely controllable surplus of energy and my readiness to participate were a hindrance to me as a teenager. I didn't have Buckley's chance of even simulating the droll ennui of the "cool girls" the vitality, the vim, was sparking from me like electricity, in fact I was the very picture of a "live wire".
Until a few years ago I would have still described myself as very enthusiastic. One of the reasons I loved living in the US is that enthusiasm is appreciated there - it actually attracts people rather than making them look at you like you are embarrassingly energetic. I think mentally I am still capable of enthusiasm, I get enthusiastic about writing these blogs, I am enthusiastic to convey clearly what I think and feel. The outward signs of my mental passion have dimmed though... My body no longer permits me to move or respond quickly or forcefully, and the crisp and powerful gestures have been watered down to careful and restrained movements.
Twelve hours from now I am going to attend the Rally to Re-Occupy Sydney and I am hoping that my friend from kindergarten will be there. She doesn't like crowds, but she said she will try. My other friend has said she is coming too (the one I met up with at the other rally).
I don't like crowds either and I'll stay well clear of any mass of people, I'm not fearless any more, I don't want to be bumped or jostled - that shit hurts! I would go everywhere in a bubble of padding if I could. I guess the bottom line is that when vim and vigour vamoose you have no choice other than to take it very gently.
Friday, 14 October 2011
The Pessimistic Optimist Erupts
This little image appeared (originally from someone called Stevie Kidd) in my facebook feed today...
The accompanying text indicated that we need to take this step out of our comfort zones TODAY!
Well I looked at the diagram and considered my personal steps out of my comfort zone (that were MANY and varied) and how many of them actually landed in that enormous circle "where the magic happens" and I figured the diagram should look a little more like this...
I just listened to an interview on the radio with a woman called Barbara Ehrenreich who has written a book called Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America. You can listen to the interesting interview here- http://www.kpbs.org/news/2009/dec/14/has-positive-thinking-undermined-america/
We have been completely swamped in the last few years by movements like "The Secret" and "Think and Grow Rich" and it makes me wonder if it has created a culture of ostrich-ism (no not ostracism though that is evident too). It seems everyone was doing the ostrich thing while the mortgage industry collapsed into chaos. Ms Ehrenreich suggests that it may have been viewed as negative if someone had said to their bank something like, "I'm concerned about our exposure to subprime mortages".
Could it be that this relentless dedication to positive thinking is really a way to tell people who have a problem to "Just shut up!"? Is it the great ameliorate of all ills that it is purported to be or is it simply an unrealistic superficial way of chucking a Scarlet O'Hara and deciding to "think about that tomorrow"?
I have always deeply resented the "heartwarming" stories I see on TV of people who through positivity, grit and determination overcome a disease or a disability. The partial paraplegic who is lauded for learning to walk again, to me, is a not so subtle put down of the person whose physical condition is unable to be overcome. Positivity and determination WILL NOT allow someone with a severed spinal cord to walk, it doesn't allow someone with MS to halt the degeneration of their body, and it doesn't make my aches, pains and fatigue disappear. I resent this slight against the people, of whom I am one, who have real constant issues that won't go away.
Getting fired or laid off is a REAL problem and is not as easily surmounted as those who have job security might think. Studies about stress and satisfaction have indicated that seeing the final outcome of your labours is intrinsic to having less stress, a better self image, and a sense of accomplishment. Is there anything more dissatisfying than sending resume after resume into the ether and receiving NO response? Having a positive attitude becomes like a drug that requires a regular "fix". You write a cover letter and send it off with high hopes and visions of success... you never hear back... you write another and hope again... etc etc.... There is a point at which pasting on the smile and imagining yourself in the position becomes kind of sad and desperate, and where you could easily fit into that classic definition of insanity - doing the same thing and expecting different results. Sure if you get an interview and have a chance to actually meet someone THAT is the time for pumping yourself up like an East German female weight lifter and being UBER POSTIVE TO THE POWER OF 10!
I have stepped out of my comfort zone in this life more than almost anyone I know - almost every time I have seen an opportunity I have reached for it - and quite a few of those chances have failed and damaged me financially, physically and emotionally. The simple act of leaping into the unknown wrapped in your positive attitude is DANGEROUS! I took what at the time I described as "calculated risks" - I should have realized that I wasn't good at maths and that my calculations might be flawed! Don't get me wrong, I have no regrets and I wouldn't give back the depth of experience I have gained through taking chances. I have busted my comfort zone over and over and I will bust out of it again very soon I am sure - just as soon as I lick my wounds and try to heal a little from the damage caused last time.
My mother used to say "Hope for the best and prepare for the worst." Mum was a child during The Great Depression and was one of the most positive and genuinely upbeat people I have ever known. Her zest for life and rollicking enthusiasm were evident to anyone who had the privilege to meet her and I hope that I have inherited some of that spark. She was right in her pessimistic optimism and I really believe the world would be a better place if BIG business and BIG government took a leaf from her book.
The accompanying text indicated that we need to take this step out of our comfort zones TODAY!
Well I looked at the diagram and considered my personal steps out of my comfort zone (that were MANY and varied) and how many of them actually landed in that enormous circle "where the magic happens" and I figured the diagram should look a little more like this...
I just listened to an interview on the radio with a woman called Barbara Ehrenreich who has written a book called Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America. You can listen to the interesting interview here- http://www.kpbs.org/news/2009/dec/14/has-positive-thinking-undermined-america/
We have been completely swamped in the last few years by movements like "The Secret" and "Think and Grow Rich" and it makes me wonder if it has created a culture of ostrich-ism (no not ostracism though that is evident too). It seems everyone was doing the ostrich thing while the mortgage industry collapsed into chaos. Ms Ehrenreich suggests that it may have been viewed as negative if someone had said to their bank something like, "I'm concerned about our exposure to subprime mortages".
Could it be that this relentless dedication to positive thinking is really a way to tell people who have a problem to "Just shut up!"? Is it the great ameliorate of all ills that it is purported to be or is it simply an unrealistic superficial way of chucking a Scarlet O'Hara and deciding to "think about that tomorrow"?
I have always deeply resented the "heartwarming" stories I see on TV of people who through positivity, grit and determination overcome a disease or a disability. The partial paraplegic who is lauded for learning to walk again, to me, is a not so subtle put down of the person whose physical condition is unable to be overcome. Positivity and determination WILL NOT allow someone with a severed spinal cord to walk, it doesn't allow someone with MS to halt the degeneration of their body, and it doesn't make my aches, pains and fatigue disappear. I resent this slight against the people, of whom I am one, who have real constant issues that won't go away.
Getting fired or laid off is a REAL problem and is not as easily surmounted as those who have job security might think. Studies about stress and satisfaction have indicated that seeing the final outcome of your labours is intrinsic to having less stress, a better self image, and a sense of accomplishment. Is there anything more dissatisfying than sending resume after resume into the ether and receiving NO response? Having a positive attitude becomes like a drug that requires a regular "fix". You write a cover letter and send it off with high hopes and visions of success... you never hear back... you write another and hope again... etc etc.... There is a point at which pasting on the smile and imagining yourself in the position becomes kind of sad and desperate, and where you could easily fit into that classic definition of insanity - doing the same thing and expecting different results. Sure if you get an interview and have a chance to actually meet someone THAT is the time for pumping yourself up like an East German female weight lifter and being UBER POSTIVE TO THE POWER OF 10!
I have stepped out of my comfort zone in this life more than almost anyone I know - almost every time I have seen an opportunity I have reached for it - and quite a few of those chances have failed and damaged me financially, physically and emotionally. The simple act of leaping into the unknown wrapped in your positive attitude is DANGEROUS! I took what at the time I described as "calculated risks" - I should have realized that I wasn't good at maths and that my calculations might be flawed! Don't get me wrong, I have no regrets and I wouldn't give back the depth of experience I have gained through taking chances. I have busted my comfort zone over and over and I will bust out of it again very soon I am sure - just as soon as I lick my wounds and try to heal a little from the damage caused last time.
My mother used to say "Hope for the best and prepare for the worst." Mum was a child during The Great Depression and was one of the most positive and genuinely upbeat people I have ever known. Her zest for life and rollicking enthusiasm were evident to anyone who had the privilege to meet her and I hope that I have inherited some of that spark. She was right in her pessimistic optimism and I really believe the world would be a better place if BIG business and BIG government took a leaf from her book.
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