I think I said last time that I had wanted to do this so that I could be inspired to write something; it's now two years since my (first) last post so I'm guessing something went a bit wrong somewhere. I'm always doing this. My home is full of journals, diaries, notebooks, you name it, anything you can write on short of papyrus, where I've started to write, sometimes for two or three days even (!) and then nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. I only found this attempt because I wanted to follow a friend's new blog, and after trying to set up a new google account, was informed that another one existed. At first I was amused, because of what I had written before, and then it struck me that it was just another example of something I always do. Procrastinating. Putting off today what can be done tomorrow. Or next week, next month, next year. Maybe never.
Only I don't call it procrastinating. For me, it's 'considering my options'. Or 'thinking about it', 'mulling it over', you get the picture. Call it what you will, but throwing caution to the wind is a very scary concept to me, which is why, as a little girl it could take up to an hour for me to choose my ten pence worth of sweets. I swear that the same said friend breaks out in a sweat if we go into a supermarket together, especially if it's Waitrose. I'm the same with just about everything, what to wear, what to eat, how to have my hair, or whether to buy that dress or not. Even at university I couldn't make a choice about what essay questions to answer. I didn't need to worry about my university deadlines, my other half used to do all the stressing for me, so much so that he was almost ready to chug the valium down by the bottle full by the time an essay was due. For me it was fine, or so I'd kid myself as I worked through the night, using a well-worn phrase 'I work best under pressure'. It’s a useful strategy to use sometimes because I'm not likely to suffer any ills due to impulsiveness, such as having my hair cut off and then wishing I hadn't, or eating a cake too quick and then wanting to be sick, or even (heaven forbid!) impulse-buying an outfit only to sweat the arrival of the bank statement!
Like everything, there is usually a price to be paid for this approach. Decisions that are considered too long, too often, that is, being put off all the time can have their own consequences, such as the cringe-worthy event suffered by me in that sweet shop, trying to make that week's painful decisions. Or the first night I had to inject myself for real instead of just practicing on a rubber ball like I had for weeks on end. The results of that little fiasco stopped me from procrastinating about future injections sharpish, and please, no pun intended! However, the results are more-often less painful to the mind or the body, and are usually just downright annoying, such as when a much-haunted dress isn't available in my size by the time I've decided to buy it.
It could be said though, that less time wasted on choosing what essay questions to answer, could have earned me a much greater prize, such as the possible First suggested by Neil, my dissertation mentor. Who knows, personally I think I got the result that best fits my abilities. I'm no brain-box so it's not something I worry over too much, as for me, the prize was getting my degree at all, particularly with all the stuff I had going on at the time. Yet lately I’ve been floundering, wondering what I want to do with my life. I’m happy enough being married, with where I live, how much money I have but I still feel as if there is a lack of purpose. It’s not really something I can put my finger on but I’ve spoken with friends who have experienced the same thing. The alarm clock gets set but there isn’t really a reason why, apart from numerous hospital appointments, and forgive me for this but I’m greedy about wanting more from my existence! So, I’ve had a lot of thinking to do. I have had wild and crazy ideas about getting a job, even checking the job ads and various websites to see what’s out there. All I do see, is that I would have to work silly amounts of hours to get any reasonable sort of income, which would then be a fast track to being laid up in bed! Scratch that idea! Then I thought about picking up another course, not a bad idea really and I have studied some other stuff since finishing my degree. What to choose though? And this it where I seem to have reached a bit of a road end. I don’t feel that I’m done with the studying and would ideally like to utilize my degree in whatever I choose next but I also know that I want somehow, to have a future that contains purpose. Don’t get me wrong, my degree was brilliant and I think anything I chose next, would offer purpose to some extent, but I suppose I’m greedy as I want something that would offer a role or identity, other than being a wife, an unpaid carer, or even a person who has MS. Sure, studying for a Masters, or any course for that matter, would give me a reason to get up and out in the morning but nothing much would really change. The end result would bring me back to where I am now.
So, back to the thinking, really hard about the things I enjoy and what inspires me. Art is one thing. Reading. Going to concerts and exhibitions. Learning crochet. I want to learn how to play the guitar. The practice of all things creative really, whether it’s drawing, arranging flowers, or even if its baking cakes. I have to say that I do love baking cakes, especially Christmas cakes. Last year I made thirteen of them, from scratch and gave them away as presents. I loved the whole creative process, from planning the amounts needed at the start, to tying the ribbon around the cellophane at the end, but part of the joy really came from giving the gift. Learning guitar would have to be a hobby choice rather than one for life’s fulfillment, as my musical ear isn’t a strong point! For me, drawing is a beautiful art form but I don’t think I have the ultimate talent to become a fulltime artist, and really, neither it would feed my hunger for academic learning in the end. I’ve been hugely fortunate to be part of a great book club for some months now and part of what’s great about it, is the meeting new people, reading books and thrashing out our responses and ideas, whilst drinking tea and eating cake. Similar to my uni days in fact, except then it was looking at art and artifacts that we got boisterous about, not books (although we did read some great stuff – thanks Jim!). I’ve already established in my own mind that academic learning has to feature somewhere, so I need to find something that would take both of these in account.
So, where does all this jabbering on lead me? True to form, I’ve decided to take my usual approach. I’ve some ideas in mind, but I think rushing things would be a mistake. I realize that my approach all points to one thing. My fear of failure. Yet I feel vindicated in this, as too often I’ve started something only for it go belly up due to being ill myself, or being over-stressed at hubby being ill. ‘Softly, softly, catchy monkey’ is how I’ve decided to play this and the first step will be to sign up for a life drawing class and see how I get on. Just one session for now. Wouldn’t want to rush things now would I?
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