Breaking the Cycle

I was thinking about why I rarely write anymore.  Why I don't make scale models the way I used to - with care and attention.  Why, when I cook a meal, I do it half-hearted these days.  What's changed?

I was astounded to look at this blog a while ago and realise I'd not written a single word in over a year! My first thought was to blame the pandemic.  Being cooped up indoors mostly, the days all blurring into one.  Constantly looking ahead to when things will be better.  But that wasn't to blame.  If anything, lockdown afforded me more time to write, more time to make models, more time to reflect on the changes happening around me.

No, what I had was complacency.  My mind had become lazy.  Watching TV every evening, drinking alcohol most evenings, rarely going out for exercise/no exercise.  Slowly descending into a slump I didn't even see happening.  I was waiting for things to improve, for the sun to come out, for lockdown restrictions to ease, for the shops to open.  Always waiting.

This morning, having written my previous post on COVID in a bit of a drunken blur the other night, I realised I needed to stop waiting for something to happen that would change things for me.

I had to act.  Now.

Left to it's own devices, things would continue as they are indefinitely.  The sun would come out (has done countless times already) but that won't get me out of the house walking the dog, because when the sun did come out, I'd find some other excuse not to go out.  Restrictions have eased, but I've still not contacted my friends about popping around for coffee.  I feel comfortable in my slump.  It's become familiar, like hiding under the duvet.  The New Normal.  (I really hate that phrase!)

Today, I decided I'm going to be the change I'm waiting for. (ooh, almost a cliché)
I'm going to break the cycle of Get Up, Eat, Work, Eat, TV, Drink, Sleep, Repeat.  I'm not going to let the blurring continue.  

I'm going to make a conscious effort to be aware of my passing moments, To think about what is happening in this day and be grateful for it; and I think the emphasis needs to be on the word conscious.  To be aware that I'm mentally lazy and complacent and do something about it - because every day I allow to blur into another, is a day I've wasted.  

Well, that's my plan, so let's see how I get on.  If my next post on this blog is in a year's time you'll know I've not kept to it!

Flights of Fancy

I was just talking to a friend about what our plans are for the weekend.  As it’s likely to be warm and sunny we both agreed gardening and barbecue would be the likely outcome – but we know our plans could change.  The weather might break, relatives might descend upon us unexpectedly.  Who knows?

So then we got to talking about popular TV shows, where the family in an inner city in the UK decide to sell up and move abroad, a place in the sun, living the dream.  What are they hoping to do when they get there?  Well, we’ll buy a couple of bikes and do them up, and cycle to the village and buy some bread and cheese, and we’ll hang out in the local tavern and drink rustic local wines and everything will be lovely.

That, my friend, is a flight of fancy.  It’s what we’d like to think we’d do – but if you’ve ever read “A Year in Provence” by Peter Mayle, you’ll soon realise reality can be a rather rude changer of plans.

What will likely happen is this:  You buy two bikes, do them up to about 50% of what you’d like, but your language barrier means most of the bits you need cannot be bought.  You’ll cycle to the village, but it’s further than you thought, and the speeding locals come dangerously close, and by the time you arrive you’re too exhausted and dirty to want to shop.  You’ll bowl up at the local tavern but the locals distrust strangers – especially those from the UK with their dirty clothing and half renovated bikes.  You cannot understand a word they’re saying, and the wine tastes dreadful because they give you the cheap nasty stuff.

6 months later you realise your pension doesn’t convert well to Euros, and you’re still paying UK tax, so you have to find work.  Your dreams of that little small holding, growing your own fruit and veg, a few chickens becomes a nightmare as you struggle to find enough hours in the day.  The garden looks more like a jungle, you’re still struggling with the language, and the barn you were hoping to convert into a holiday let has had its planning permission denied for the third and final time.  The local mayor no longer answers your calls, and even the bread and cheese has lost its charm.

That inner city life no longer seems so stressful.  At least most of the locals understood you, and the shops in the high street had what you needed, and you had a steady income – even if you were doing a job you were bored with.  “This is your Captain speaking!  FancyFlight 236 from UK will be losing altitude shortly and you may encounter some turbulence.  Please fasten your seatbelts and return all seat backs and trays to an upright position!”

But don’t lose heart.  All change is difficult to start with, and the greatest rewards often follow the bleakest of struggles.  So, when the unexpected relatives turn up, hand them a trowel and pop another couple of sausages on the Barbie – it’ll all work out in the end!

Feeling Down (in the dumps)

I remembered something the other day that I had long forgotten, something I used to do to make me feel better whenever I felt down in the dumps, out-of-sorts, a bit fed up. 

You know those days when you get up and spend an hour thinking you should do something, but everything you think of isn’t what you want to do?  You open a book, and put it down again.  You pick up your journal, but the pen hovers above the page and no inspiration comes.  You switch on the TV and flick through a hundred channels – each one as unsatisfying as the last.

Those days you just can’t seem to buck up.

I remembered that on days like those, I’d clean and re-arrange my bedroom.

I would move anything small enough to move out of the room, and I would shift the rest into one side of the room while I cleaned, dusted and vacuumed the other.  Then I would move everything over and do the other half.  Then when the room was clean, I’d move my bed so it was facing a different way, in a different place.  The other furniture would be shifted to somewhere new, or differently aligned, and eventually, the room would be finished and my mood would be elevated.

The new alignment of the room always made me feel better when I went to sleep – excited, in a way – because it was new.  Sometimes I would imagine I was now on a strange ship, sailing into the unknown, or like Robinson Crusoe, in my desert island cave.  And when I woke in the morning I would feel fresher than the day before, more energised. Re-motivated.

Proponents of Feng Shui would say I’d stirred up the energy flow in the room, and I think they’re right.  The stagnation I felt before is gone.  The room feels different, and so do I. Invigorated. New.
My energy seems to flow differently too.

I extended the practice to other rooms in the house – mostly the living room – changing the position of the sofa, the TV, the book cases and so on, and it would work there too. 

So, when I woke the other day feeling listless and unmotivated, I found myself (without even knowing why) cleaning the kitchen sink and draining board.  This progressed to the work surfaces and the oven door.  I emptied the bin, which took me to the garage, where I saw much that could be tidied and rearranged.  And so passed two hours.  I returned to the house feeling much happier, with more energy and a brighter outlook on life.  I think we become so in-tune with our surroundings that we can stagnate in the sameness of an unchanged room, so my advice would be – when you feel listless, stagnant, down-in-the-dumps, discombobulated and out-of-sorts, change something!

Rearrange a room, sort out a closet or wardrobe, clean the bathroom from top to bottom, declutter the garage or shed.  Get the energy flowing again!