Write Right

Today, I have written without thinking.

I have a feeling that I’ve more to say on the subject of writing and in a way, starting to write again is a bit like going back to the beginning. The faltering, unsure posts saying nothing much and not being certain that anyone is even reading regularly. But if one person is, even intermittently, that’s enough, I don’t need nor want 10k followers. It’s okay to write as myself, about myself. Or about anything I want, even if it doesn’t have an ‘angle’ or an aim. It doesn’t mean I’m going back to the way things were. It just means I have things I want to say or document and that by imagining that there is someone reading means I am able to structure thoughts better. It means I think about how I construct my sentences, the vocabulary that I use – scanning my brain for synonyms when I find myself repeating words, or considering whether my grammar is actually correct. Am I over using alliteration? Then realising it doesn’t matter that much anyway, or if I don’t follow the 8 simple rules to make my blog the best, because all I need is it to work for me.

My blog is inextricably linked with sadness and reflection. It’s not all necessarily bad, naturally. Sometimes it’s an observation I want to keep hold of, a trip I want memories to last beyond photographs. Pictures are fantastic, of course, but some of my most treasured times are those that you don’t want nor need a camera to capture. Words can help with that. And sometimes, they are flowery and fancy and sometimes they are written purely for effect. Of course, I don’t actually talk like this. Writing happy is hard, I find – please, read and see, look how lucky I am and how great my life is!

Life has changed, so much, since the days of Turning Twenteen. I am not far off being in my thirs rather than twens and the blank canvas that is the next decade of my life stretches before me. I am making home improvements on a place that I live in, that now, someone is living in with me. I have newly-laid carpets and newly-acquired second-hand sofas. I have bought lampshades and have painted walls. I have a disposable income of my very own that is not a loan, and I can use it however I wish. I can spend Saturday evening reading, watching TV, playing a board game or going to bed at 9pm. I can spend my holidays in the UK, as I did earlier this year - visiting the town instead of the festival, and preferring it. Eating a dinner by candlelight with a meal made from can of mixed beans and microwave rice, a glass of red wine, and the sound of gentle jazz music streamed from Spotify. It may not be instagrammable or worthy of a foodie post but for me, as meals go, it was one of the finest. Not for the food, but for the company, the memory, and the content realisation that at that moment, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

 It feels like things are falling into place.

Flitterbox: Clean Bandit ft Jess Glynne ~ Rather Be 

Sunday Morning

I walk across town, a sunny June Sunday morning. Fresh croissants and strawberry smoothie in my bag. I pass a women on her way to church, we exchange morning greetings. I’m heading to eat breakfast with my family. My life is a novel, a poem, a collection of short stories. Every moment, I want to stop, take note, record.

Choral music plays from a window. Bells chime, birds sing, a child laughs. A dog sniffs at my feet, I smile at the owner.

I like living in a place where strangers say hello when they cross in the street or when walking their dogs. I like living in a place filled with green spaces, flowing rivers, old houses, open gardens. I like living in a place where my immediate family is within easy distance. I like living a life that is intertwined with family and friends, where encounters aren’t always planned to last a whole day, but can be spontaneously arranged upon suggestion. Where ‘meeting up’ is just popping in for a cup of coffee on the way to somewhere else, that then turns into full breakfast with siblings all there. I like it like that. We cook and eat and drink together. We chat and laugh about the night before. We gather round and swipe through photos. We spend an hour or so with each other, before going onwards with the rest of our day, separately.

Moments like these are the ones to remember. A simple Sunday morning with family. I want to stop, take note, record, and so that is what I have done.

Impress Me

Today, I have been impressed.

“Impressive, though. To be in that job, married and have a baby before you’re thirty”

No.

I can’t identify quite what irks me so much about this statement. It was probably meant as a throwaway remark, a comment on the neat package of external expectations achieved by an arbitrary age but I just found it annoying that someone could be ‘impressed’ by that alone. Like, you haven’t actually ‘achieved’ much by merely marrying someone or partaking in the physical act of procreating. The person who made the comment knew nothing more of this person’s life than what is on social media. The idea that if you’ve ticked those boxes means you can turn thirty without worry is just odd, in my opinion. Besides, who knows just what the future holds…? Or indeed, the present – you don’t know the details of their situation or what was sacrificed to get there, so I can’t consider marriage and pregnancy impressive in itself without the whole picture. There are far more achievements in life that people don’t seem to recognise in the same way, perhaps because it’s something they’ve already managed, or something they have no desire to do, and I find it quite irritating on occasion.

I am impressed if you run 10 x 10km or 13.1 x 13.1 miles, or 1 x 26.2 miles, whatever your age and whatever the cause. It requires a lot of dedication and training, even if that is what you enjoy doing and especially if it's not.

I am impressed if you makeover your house on the cheap, by yourself, learning new skills in order to do so. Because it’s not always fun to do and things can go wrong, and can be stressful.

I am impressed if you volunteer. If you do a job that helps people. If you give up your own time, not because you will earn more money, but because there is someone in need and you can help them.

I am impressed if you deal with the death of a loved one, admin, emotions and all. It is hard being an adult and sometimes we suddenly have to be more grown up sooner than we ever thought we’d need to be.

I am impressed if you raise children and they are polite and kind. Having a baby itself is not the impressive thing, but being a parent is difficult sometimes and if your child is kind then you’re doing a good job.

I am impressed if you have the courage to stop being in a relationship that is not right for you and silence the expectations of society and social circles telling you to settle or stay. Breaking up is hard to do.

I am impressed if you are able to keep dating even if each one so far has been a dullard or a dick. It’s tough to find enthusiasm to constantly meet new people when chances are they may not be right for you.

I am impressed if you are able to keep genuine friends, make time to meet up with them, share stories. It is easy to let friends slip away if you don’t put the effort in.

I am impressed if you work towards a goal that requires commitment over an extended period of time. If you persevere when the going gets tough and don’t give up.

I am impressed by so many things of varying magnitudes that people around me do, but none of them involves how much you earn, whether you are married or have children and in most cases, age is irrelevant.

Flitterbox: Shania Twain ~ That Don't Impress Me Much 

Hello Happy

I was so sad, then.

Going back, it felt like I was in a movie set of a film I have seen over and over again. I know it so well. A bittersweet tale that pulls at my heartstrings in a way that makes me want to keep watching. There's a character that I identify with so well, but she's not quite me. I wander around the set, drinking in all these sights as if I've lived them, as if I've walked these streets so many times that I can visualise being here, I can feel her emotions pulsing through me, fighting with my own. I wonder, is it normal to experience it like this? The rest of the cast aren't around now, but I can see them in my mind. I remember all the scenes and the lines, the funny bits, the heartwarming moments, but also the gut-wrenching despair. I turn a corner and each location renews a sense of detached familiarity. The main character is ghost-like, I sense her presence everywhere. I can't go into her room, but I feel the melancholy overwhelm me just from being outside, looking in. Somehow, the surroundings are just as imagined, the props are spot on, but I still can't quite grasp the reality of being in the same space she once shared. I go to where she had daily lectures, where she ate lunch, walk the staircase she dreaded every morning. I am there, I am her, I am me. I can't cope with the confluence of the two personalities. How can I be both her then, and myself now? I need time to process this, to conceptualise. And I do, later that night while my heart is bursting, full of lost moments, I articulate the feeling that has been hanging over me for most of the day.

I was so sad. I was so sad. I was so sad.

It is difficult to admit, and I'm not sure I even realised fully at the time, but it is freeing to recognise. I was so sad. But now, I am happy. The girl I left there was full of worry and hopelessness and some days, all she had to hang on to was that one day, perhaps in ten, eight, nine, seven years from now, it will be okay. This too shall pass. And that, it did.

Which brings us to today, things are more than okay. It is hard to express how happy I am that things worked out for her. That she doesn't have to be there any more, that she doesn't have to feel like that every day, any more. It may now seem like a movie set but it was real life, once upon a time. I want to hug her so tight and tell her it will be alright but just as you can't do that to characters in a story, you can't connect to your past self. So I guess I have to satisfy my self of the moment with the reminder that everything is okay now.

I am happy, now.

Flitterbox: Razorlight ~ Stumble and Fall 

Slow Down

Today, I have felt stressed.

I am quick to defend what I believe to be true. I am ready to stand up for a person when I feel that their words or actions may have been misunderstood. I am keen to be a voice of reason and representation, to help people understand one another where they might not be able to make that link themselves. Sometimes, I feel like I see things differently to other people. Sometimes, I suppose, everyone feels that way.

Writing calms my mind. I know this to be true and I found it particularly helpful as a student. Writing  allows me to process my thoughts in a way that talking or thinking doesn't always manage. Writing, as if to someone outside of myself, brings order to my brain.

I think it's something that I need at the moment. There's no great trauma or tragedy in my life, fear not. But there's plenty I could say, so many changes happening all around that are almost passing me by. Minor decisions that I am finding hard to pin down, major milestones that friends are ticking off, all the time. I want to capture these feelings, these events, these viewpoints.

Perhaps this is just a burst of inspiration. Perhaps it is a momentary blip back to unsettled and restless. Perhaps it won't last long. Well, we shall see.

Perhaps a blog is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm.

 Flitterbox: Frank Turner ~ Photosynthesise

Coconut Cookies

Today, I have made coconut oat cookies.

I have a list of things I like, up the top there. I wrote it several years ago and recently re-read, musing on whether they all still apply. For the most part, they still do. I don't wake up to the sound of the radio any more, but I do still listen in the morning sometimes. I don't read the newspaper so much but I keep up with the news online, such is the digital age.

I like speaking French, most often when I've had a drink or few. I have started learning Spanish which is  more difficult than I anticipated. Whilst I have come across the language before, of course, I've never formally studied it and finding that commitment to learn and motivation to keep going is so much harder at this age and stage in life. I took for granted how easy it was just to go to language lessons at school because I was obliged to attend, to do the homework because I was a diligent student. Seven years of French and I'm by no means fluent, but common words and frequently used phrases come to mind readily. Seventeen weeks of Spanish and I can barely scrape a complete sentence without making a mistake or having to think twice. But, I am signed up for another course that takes me up to summer, and I'm sure in seven or so years' time, I will be glad I stuck at it.

I like coconut oat cookies. I don't have much of a sweet tooth, I wouldn't choose to buy nor eat biscuits, usually. Cake and tea are a classic combination that I am happy to indulge in on occasion, but it's not a regular occurrence. I just felt, this week, for some reason, the need to make the favoured bake of my childhood. Simple and satisfying: mix dry, mix wet, add wet to dry and dump dessertspoonfuls on a tray for baking. The end result is deliciousness achieved in under half an hour.  This is not the kind of blog where you scroll through three paragraphs to find a recipe, but I doubt that's the reason you're here - lmgtfy if it is.

The rest rings true on the whole and there are many other things I could add. I think a good way to get to know someone is ask about their likes - the little likes that are fun to find out and the large likes that mean you have something important in common and that like could be the foundation of a fantastic friendship.

I like reflecting.

Flitterbox: Mulan ~ Reflection

Miss Bloggerbee

Today, I miss blogging.

I miss blogging like I miss school, or university. That is, most of the time it's fine and I don't really think about it but every now and again, a memory will catch me out and then it's a bit sad and a bit wistful and a bit weird. My blog circle is entirely different now, I'm a mere observer most of the time and the tight community that developed early on and joined me through my formative years, well, I don't know where most of them are or what they are doing. Although, I do confess to having searched on social media to varying success.

Sometimes, I spy a pied wagtail and wonder what you're up to. I go to a city you live in and I remember meeting here for the first time, how strange it was. Somebody mentions something, and I find myself thinking of a throwaway comment you made, ages ago, candid advice that somehow has stuck.

I'm doing more; I'm thinking less. I still think too much, y'know. But far less than I used to and I've become better at not listening to the voices that remind me of things I cannot change.

Be patient. Be kind. Be positive. Be happy.