A Plethora of Should
My new Parisian friend (and future travel companion) asked me how my life in France differs from the one in Canada. My answer was “Here I’m free.” He then asked me for a definition of freedom (not just a direct English/French translation, but a description of what freedom means to me).
My initial reaction was “I can do exactly what I want here.”
Which strictly speaking isn’t really true because I have budget constraints, but I meant: I don’t have to do anything because I have to. My freedom is about being able to discover how I want to spend me time. It’s about creating a new future five times a day and yet, it’s also about not worrying about the future.
But most of all, it’s about waking up each day not thinking “Ugh.”
Funny thing is there are still so many shoulds floating around my head:
- I should spend more time each day writing.
- I should figure out whether I want to stay here or not.
- I should enter writing contests.
- I should clean the apartment (it keeps insisting on getting dirty – isn’t once enough?).
- I should, I should, I should.
I’m resisting doing any of those things because of the shoulds attached. Some part of me feels that if I can get rid of a should, then I’ll do the action with joy. But that’s a silly notion. Because as soon as I start to do the action, I’ll remember the previously attached should and then I’ll not want to do the action any more. Which is an even sillier notion.
I’m amazed at the power of words. Six letters have such negative control in my life, a control that is entirely self-imposed. Being sick sometimes is the best way to let go of that control. For the past four days as my sinus drained, refilled and throbbed, I spent most of the day on the sofa, catching up on TV shows. It was so much fun but I knew I was feeling better when the guilt kicked in late this morning.
So, now off for a short walk to rebuild some of my lost energy.
Someday Lessons:
- We wrap ourselves so well in words that we can rarely see clearly through to our deepest desires.
- You don’t have to know that being free means to you; you’ll recognize it when you experience it.
Lunch Today:
Turkey Biryani
Sick? So What?
Three times I’ve attempted this entry, but haven’t liked it (although one of those times it was an airport computer that didn’t like it and deleted it for me). The posting was quite a (witty) diatribe about my continued travel woes: a damaged plane, a sinus infection, a cold sore and another damaged plane.
But it doesn’t matter. It might have made an interesting piece of writing, but as an entry for the Someday Syndrome blog, it would have just been me whining.
Despite feeling cranky, I had a good time with my parents. I accomplished everything I had wanted to do on the trip, and I acquired an invite to visit Syria, Jordan and Lebanon later this month.
What were my goals for this trip?
- Discover a bit of Paris – check
- Visit with my parents – check
- Learn more about my roots – check
- Buy some English-language novels – check
- Buy a few linen tea towels – check
(The last one I only accomplished at the last possible moment – the duty free at the Shannon airport – but I did get it done!)
It would have been very easy to sulk about my plane-induced sinus infection (which I did a bit), but I didn’t let it stop me from enjoying myself (mostly). Prior to leaving I had decided what I wanted and pursued it despite the setbacks. Of course it helped having my Mom in Ireland and a friendly face in Paris (yes, I did do dinner with the good-energy-boy from last week).
Speaking of whom, he is the source of the invite to the Middle East. I’ve never been, have always wanted to go and the company will be enjoyable (plus by traveling there with a local, it will be much safer). One of the things I enjoy most about my life here is my openness to adventure. In Toronto I’d never accept an invite to travel with someone I’d only met twice, but I’ve always noticed people connect more quickly when traveling. Plus I like the sense of risk this trip implies… minimal as that is.
Someday Lessons:
- Push forward beyond obstacles to accomplish your preset goals.
- Detours or setbacks might actually be shortcuts or necessary side trips, giving you a better advantage in the long run.
Lunch Today:
Well, I’ve had some interesting meals that I haven’t really been able to taste. A lot of sandwiches and fresh fish & chips, but last night I ordered pizza from the other pizza truck that visits town periodically – I threw in a picture for your enjoyment.
Junk Overload
Today my dad took me to the family hardware store in Birr, Ireland: W.K. Fayle & Co. Ltd. The store hasn’t been owned by Fayles since the 1920s or 30s but it still has our name attached.
We poked around the store rooms and former apartments above the store. I was horrified! The organizer in me wanted to either run out screaming or gather a crew of twenty people and put the place in order.
You can’t move in most rooms, and in each almost everything is junk. In past visits, my parents have gone through the rooms and taken anything Fayle and historically significant. The rest is crap.
My parents and I discussed me returning to Ireland to supervise packing and shipping the contents of the rooms to Canada, but in seeing the space, my dad decided that there were two things he wanted. The rest as I said is crap.
There are many old old books but they’re hidden amongst other rotting papers and it’s difficult to find any valuable ones in decent shape.
In one way, it’s good they’ve kept everything because we have found treasures over the years, but aie! I don’t want to be the one to clear out the junk, which seriously needs to be done. The dry rotted and worm-eaten wood is beginning to me the building unsound - another decade and I’d say the place will be unsafe to enter. Which is a real waste of a beautiful old building.
Someday Lessons:
- If you’re going to collect stuff, keep it organized and catalogued or it’s just going to become crap.
- Clutter impairs maintenance which creates greater long-term costs - in complete renovation needs.
Ireland? M’eh!
I’m not in love with Ireland. I thought I would be. My roots are in Ireland. I grew up hearing about the country.
But it’s just okay. Actually it’s dirty. There is literally garbage everywhere. My parents and I took a drive up the west coast to see The Burren - a contradictory place of barrenness and lush plant life. And garbage. Looking over cliffs suspended above the ocean, I saw two bags of household garbage dropped onto a ledge. Ick!
As I write this entry in a park in the town of my grandfather’s birth (Birr, County Offaly), I’m surrounded by discarded beer cans, milk containers, and cigarette packages. The bench I’m sitting on is more dirt than wood (good thing I’m wearing jeans!).
I’d not want to live in Ireland (for other than the it’s-too-damp issue). I wonder if it’s no coincidence that there are no Fayles left in Ireland. I’ve felt no connection to any of the places or people I’ve seen. Everyone is friendly enough, but it’s all surface. I’ve yet to feel any real warmth from anyone.
As I said, I grew up hearing tales of Ireland, of the family and our homes here. My Scottish grandmother told stories of her Irish husband’s aunts and their strength of spirit. He should tell me positive stories of being Protestant in the geographical centre of Catholic Ireland. My dad has also more recently talked about letters and maps recorded by previous generations.
All of which means nothing to me in terms of the place. I feel no soul-connection to Ireland, no heart-leaping the way I do in France or even in Wales to a lesser degree.
I’ve now done the visiting of the ancestors. I don’t need to come back to Ireland.
Someday Lessons:
- Don’t want something just because everyone thinks you should.
- Finding out what you want is often done by discovering what you don’t want.
Lunch Today:
(Actually lunch yesterday as I’m posting a couple of entries at the same time) Cheese, bread and pate.
I Love Paris
At first when I arrived in Paris, I thought "M’eh, another large city with lots of people." Then I started wandering around and opened myself to the moment.
And so I fell in love.
Notre Dame didn’t impress me much - too overwhelming. I caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower and realized "Wow! I’m actually in Paris!" The Luxembourg Gardens really impressed me. Not the layout, or the design, but the use. It was full of people - playing, walking, sitting and talking. And the chairs! Chairs lining the paths everywhere - loose chairs! Not stolen and not vandalized! Chairs for sitting in a loose group chatting. Chairs for turning into goals posts for a quick football game. Chairs for finding just the right view for relaxing.
Then I discovered the neighbourhood near the Hotel de Ville, the Marais. It’s a lot of pedestrian streets, too narrow for cars, with restaurants, cafes, shops, and the Centre Pompidou. Merveilleux! All tubular and stark and so out of place that I just had to love it.
In the Marais, I bought myself a Parisian Gay Guide, then read it over a couple of drafts in two bars. I returned to my hotel in Montparnasse (half-hour walk), showered, changed, and returned to the Marais. I ate dinner outside at a sidewalk cafe then hit a bar again.
I felt a bit awkward at this bar. The space was small and being alone in a bar always feels slightly uncomfortable for me. I finished my soft drink and decided to walk around a bit more. On my way out I noticed two men with an eye-catching energy about them. I smiled and they returned it. I then fell in love with a few more narrow streets and stared in wonder at the Centre Pompidou some more.
I returned to the bar, hoping to chat with the energy-boys. But they weren’t there. I went to explore the lower levels (set up with dancefloor surrounded by a catwalk - like Toronto’s old Boom Boom Room), but I didn’t make it downstairs. On the way down, I ran into the energy-boys on their way up. We exchanged hellos and they immediately invited me to go for a coffee with him.
Sure!
They were Lebanese-Parisians and they ran into friends at the cafe. I fell yet more in love with Paris drinking coffee, listening to snippets of Arabic songs being sung. Merveilleux!
I ended up almost pulling a Before Sunrise. I talked with one of the energy-boys until 2:00am. We could have talked all night long, but I had to get up at 6:00am to be at the airport in time for my flight to Ireland (and I wasn’t going to take any chances with that!).
But it’s good. I’m having dinner with him next Thursday on my way back from Ireland.
Someday Lessons:
- When you feel cynical or jaded, make yourself open up to wonder. Marvelous things will happen.
- Practice falling in love with new things and places regularly.
Lunch Today:
Airport Sandwiches.
Over Confident Memory
I should just never travel in France.
Yet again disaster struck. I was all prepared for my trip to Ireland, via Paris. I had everything mapped out. My bus to the train station was leaving at 09h15, giving me plenty of time to finish packing, do my dishes and pack a lunch.
At 8am I started my to do list, the packing. My clothes packed easily and all my carry-on stuff I had in a pile. My train tickets sat on top. I glanced at them. Wait a minute! That 09h15 is in the wrong spot! Oh merde! The train was leaving Dax at 09h15, not Sauveterre - that bus left at 07h45. Merde, merde, merde.
So, after a taxi to Orthez, a train to Dax and a new train ticket (missed trains are only exchangeable for 50 minutes after the train leaves), I was on my way to Paris.
I had been so sure of the time. I had even considered checking the ticket the night before, but decided otherwise. I didn’t need to! My memory is great!
Wrong!
Someday Lessons:
- Never rely on memory for time sensitive actions.
- Money does solve many problems, if you’re willing to spend enough of it.
Lunch Today:
Was supposed to be cheese and crackers (as I mentioned in the previous posting), but instead was an overly expensive train sandwich.
Terrible Parent
Another short post today. I leave in a few hours for a night in Paris then a week in Ireland with my parents. I hope to find Internet cafés along the way to continue posting. If not then I’ll add a bunch of posts next weekend.
When I was finalizing details with my mother, we talked about my cats. The two of them are doing well at my parents’ place, settling in and adjusting well to the other three cats.
I think about my cats, but I don’t miss them at all. I almost didn’t come to France because of them. "How could I give them up?" I thought. I considered bringing them here with me, but decided against it since I was traveling alone. It would have been too traumatic for them (and for me!).
But I expected to pine for them, worry about them, wish they were here with me. But actually I don’t. I think about them, but only casually.
I feel like a terrible parent. They’ve been with me for over ten years. How could I be so callous?
Because I’m practical. They wouldn’t have liked living in an apartment where they can’t go outside. I wouldn’t easily be able to travel like I do. And they get much better taken care of at my parents’ than they would have here.
So, I guess I’m not a terrible parent after all.
Someday Lessons:
- Something that you think is precious to you might not be. Try living without it for a short period to test it.
- Giving something precious away might allow you to explore something you never thought possible.
Lunch Today:
Will be Cheese and Crackers on the train.
Safe but Sorry (for Myself)
Years ago, I was in a bad relationship and a job I hated. I complained. To everyone. To anyone. But I didn’t do anything about it.
I enjoyed playing victim too much.
There’s power in powerlessness, being able to say “but I can’t do anything!” and “it’s not fair!” It’s a very safe place to be. It didn’t make me happy, but it was comfortable. And it meant I didn’t have to take personal responsibility or take any actions.
And why did I stop playing victim?
The bad relationship forced me to stop. My entire life, I had been a victim. As the younger sibling physically unable to best my brother, as a punching bag in grade school, as a misunderstood gothic teenager, as the gay boy growing up in a hockey town.
Plus in most of my adult friendships, I handed the power to others. I forced them to determine my self-worth through their actions and words towards me. It wasn’t easy being my friend. In fact, I’m sure it was a lot of work.
Then came this bad relationship, during which I cut out all the other people who had been keepers of my self-worth. I put all my eggs in one basket. I tied my value to one person. The basket wasn’t strong enough and all the eggs fell and cracked. I cracked.
I learned to stand up for myself, to state an opinion and stick to it. I learned that someone being angry with me isn’t the end of the world. And I learned that self-worth wasn’t something anyone could measure – not others and not myself. Self-worth is inherent.
So the relationship ended (we managed to salvage a friendship out of it, however). Within six months, I was investigating Professional Organizing as a profession. It took another year and a half to get out of the job, but that had more to do with financial security than self-worth.
Occasionally the victim in me will reappear (he sneaks in with other habits). As soon as I recognize him, I politely yet firmly show him the door. He comes around less and less now. He knows he’s not welcome.
Someday Lessons:
- The devil we know, no matter how painful, is easier to stay with than the unknown stranger.
- Don’t wait for the world or others to make life better. It won’t happen.
Lunch Today:
Quick Burger in Pau (the European McDonald’s)
Rationalizing Toys
Just a short post today.
I spent a large portion of the day fighting with a camcorder and my computer. They weren’t talking to each other and I was mediating. Eventually figured out that at some point the computer said something to the camcorder while the camcorder was talking and now it is completely unable to talk to the computer (in other words, the camcorder’s downloading feature is fried).
The upside of this? I can now rationalize going out and buying a MiniDV Camcorder, something I’ve always wanted but could never justify.
Toys, toys, toys - woo hoo!
This now means that I’ll be starting to post little mini videos along with entries (to illustrate a point, or just show off how beautiful it is here!).
Someday Lessons:
- We can always find a reason for buying something, convincing ourselves that it’s essential. Don’t stop yourself from buying it, but be aware of the real reasons.
- Sometimes you just need to say “the hell with it” and buy something even if it’s not essential.
Lunch Today:
Rice Bolognaise
Living Free
The beaches of the Pays Basque are huge surfing destinations. In the fifties, surfing was introduced to the area when a film was shot here. Now there are surfers on every beach.
Surfers live in the moment. They spend hours waiting for the perfect wave. A lot of them also live as nomads living out of vehicles (like the proverbial VW vans – which I saw today). Surfers know how to get rid of stuff – no responsibilities, few possessions, and the ability to go wherever the waves are.
Previously I would have said that I couldn’t live a nomadic life, but I’m not so sure of that. When I arrived in France, I did my best to settle down and become responsible (let’s just ignore the whole car fiasco!). But spending the day at the beach has me wondering whether Sauveterre is the right place for me. I love it but, do I love the ocean more? As a child my family would go to Maine for a week every other summer. Today I went to the beach and spent several hours in the water, playing with the waves. It made me happy in a way I can’t explain (which is frustrating as a writer!).
The France experience has been a series of polite elephant sneezes (i.e., epiphanies). The latest of which being the need for a home. Do I need one? Could I lead a (semi?) nomadic life? And what does work look like for that lifestyle?
I’m glad today was warm and that my friends reminded me that the beach is here. I would have regretted not coming before winter sets in.
Someday Lessons:
- Look at someone else’s life and (don’t compare!) ask “Could I do that?”
- What’s the absolute minimum you nee personally to live your current lifestyle?
P.S. Just a note about time. The travel took about three hours either direction, but I didn’t really notice it. I’ve really adjusted to this lack of schedule, eh?
Lunch Today:
Sheep’s cheese (brebis) and crackers on the beach.
A Client or The Beach
This week I helped friends who are building a straw house. I laid a line of tile along the top of the foundation. I never thought I’d ever tile – far too detail oriented. But I did it and it turned out well. Now I feel confident that I could lay tile in a place of my own (no! don’t say it!) someday.
On Wednesday, it poured rain, so I organized the workshop. I had thought that I was pretty much done with physical organizing – too burnt out. But I really enjoyed myself and discovered I missed it.
I also discovered how I prefer to work – alone, without any decisions on what to throw out, without agonizing over the emotional value of things. I love to talk about emotions and reasons one on one and to groups of people, but when it comes to the physical work, I prefer to work without the client.
And that is good to know because on Thursday the couple’s aunt said she was interested in having me organize her garage. I was tempted to say no, but then I smacked myself (why turn down money? Especially since I think I might want to stay here longer – I’ll need some sort of income).
So, I accepted an invitation to lunch today to look at the space.
Then last night, friends called asking if I wanted to go to the beach with them today (yes it’s still sunny and mid- to high-20s here). I almost said no, but then smacked myself again (don’t worry, not hard, no bruises!). I’ve wanted to spend a day at the beach since I got here. At home, where money was always tight, I usually said no to fun and yes to potential work.
But now, work is not a priority. I decided therefore to send my friend’s aunt quote via email (I know generally how long garages take me). It was freeing to be able to make that decision, but before I could do that, my other friends called me back to cancel the beach trip (their car broke down).
So lunch was back on and I walked in with confidence. I was able to say "This is how I work and this is how much it’ll cost you." They accepted it without a second thought and I wasn’t worried if they said no. The real goal will be keep this attitude when money does matter more. But I think if you’re honest and confident about how you work and what your worth, people accept what you say. It’s when you get iffy and hesitant about your value and your work methods that people respond with their own hesitations.
Fortunately I don’t have to test out this theory for several months still…
Someday Lessons:
- Don’t let the fear of money drive your actions – no matter how tempting it might be.
- Remember that leisure dreams are just as important as money dreams in achieving a balanced life.
Lunch Today:
Pear and Roquefort Tart with fresh greens, followed by Roast Lamb, Roast Potatoes, Creamed Celery Root, Peas, Carrots, then a selection of Cheeses, finished off with a Lemon Sponge Pie. I nearly exploded!
Crowdsourcing
I was reading yesterday about a new business model called crowdsourcing. It’s a supposedly democratic form of research and development used for everything from science problems to t-shirts. It intrigues me yet I feel way cynical about it too.
I’m reminded of Lynne Truss’ book Talk to the Hand where she relates service charges to self-serve options. Banking is a big example of that – we pay for every transaction we do and yet we’re expected to do all our own customer service (internet/phone banking, ATMs).
Crowdsourcing seems the next logical step for companies wishing to lower costs. At one time R&D was done in house, then it was outsourced to save money. Now it’s crowdsourced, taking advantage of people’s wish to be creative and gain recognition while the company gets to pay as little as possible for the outcome.
On the other hand, I’m totally fascinated by the concept. It’s next to impossible to crowdsource writing or any other solely intellectual activity. The results of crowdsourcing need to be physical. Plus the participants need to gain some benefit, be it recognition, money or bartered goods and services.
Despite all that, I want to figure out a way I could crowdsource something related to Someday Syndrome. Google does it to improve its services, Threadless with t-shirts, InnoCentive does it with scientific research. There’s a sense of adventure inherent in crowdsourcing.
I envision it as almost being (on a personal level) a sort of performance art piece. A crowdsourced life. A version of The Truman Show where the viewers vote decide on then vote for what happens next.
Basically crowdsourcing is outsourcing meets reality TV meets the democratic web.
How this all relates to Someday Syndrome I’m not sure, but my intuition tells me to do some more digging.
I’ll let you know where I end up.
Someday Lessons:
- Don’t let life stagnate – periodically explore new ideas.
- Listen for signals from your intuition to further explore these new ideas.
Lunch Today:
Carrot-Ginger Purée with paté & crackers
Re-evaluating Email
Nothing stays the same, especially in the world of small business.
A colleague of mine recently announced the transition of a seven-year running email newsletter to a blog. I’ve change the format of my newsletter, using it to highlight my own new blog. And today I read a blog that says email marketing no longer works. This got me looking and found another example of the waning influence of email (I especially like the idea that email is going to become as “quaint” as fax and snail mail).
I’ve noticed it in how I relate to email within Professional Organizers in Canada. Just two years ago an email to 120 people would generate about 80 responses. This year, the same email to 500 people generated only 35 responses.
I think it’s because we’ve hit email overload. Next week, I’m going to meet up with my parents in Ireland for five days and I’m hoping I’ll be able to connect to an Internet café at some point. Not because I can’t live without email, but because I don’t want my inbox to overflow with spam.
On average I receive close to 100 spam messages a day. I have filters that keep them out of my inbox, but I still have to review the spam folders, and that reduces the effectiveness and my interest in the legit emails. I’ve also unsubscribed from most email newsletters and barely browse the ones I do receive still.
So, what does this mean for my own newsletter? I’m not sure. Most people who read my blog come to it directly, which means someone’s told them about it. It could be the newsletter that tells them, but the timing of my hit counts doesn’t verify that. It’s really like the 1970s shampoo commercial – good old word of mouth. “And they told two friends, and so on and so on and so on.” Over 80% of the people who have visited my blog have done so directly, meaning they’ve been recommended to it.
I don’t need to draw in clients right now, but I am still aware of the need to be top of mind. It won’t do to let slip all the work I’ve done up to now to create recognition. My newsletter has always had the intent of informing people, providing assistance, but the business purpose of the newsletter was to draw in potential clients. Since I’m not actually seeking clients right now, I need to decide on my reasons for producing the newsletter.
Without an internal purpose, I’ll neglect it, the quality will suffer and it (and I) will fall off people’s radar.
The ultimate questions in this instance are: Will wanting to stay top of mind be enough to keep my newsletter interesting and read? And, why do I want people to remember me?
Someday Lessons:
- Be clear about your reasons for doing something or don’t waste your energy on it.
- Always be willing to re-examine your actions for effectiveness and relevance.
Lunch Today:
Vegetables pakoras with eggplant, zucchini and onion made fresh for me at the weekly Salies de Béarn market.
Cheating Myself
I cheated and it stopped me from writing.
According to my own rules for creating this blog, the categories are randomly picked each day. But Sunday I purposefully picked one particular category: living in the now.
I had spent the day in the mountains picking mushrooms. While on the hunt, I started to craft a piece about the patience needed to find the rare porcini mushrooms. I was going to make witty comparisons to magic mushroom hunting on Citadel Hill in Halifax (hearsay only – I’ve never actually picked my own magic mushrooms). And then I was going to describe the culinary joy of cooking my mushrooms and savouring them with a steak. I would have likely thrown in something about the thrill of the hunt and pride in my catch. I even took pictures of everything but the porcinis themselves.
But I couldn’t write it. I couldn’t pick up my book and start writing. It’s fine to break rules, especially when you’ve made them it’s not fine, however, to break from integrity.
When I decided in advance on the topic, I made the blog weaker. I write this blog and choose the categories each day as a way of showing how every action in life can be connected to one of my organizing principles.
I have a specific purpose for the blog and I changed it for no good reason. The system I’d created broke down.
But I’m back on track. Today’s category is a purpose for space. What happened with the blog is exactly what can happen when you break from the purpose of a physical organizing system that already works.
Life as a metaphor for organizing – can it get any better?
Someday Lessons:
- If a system works, stick to it.
- Change is good, but make sure you stay true to yourself.
Lunch Today:
Creamy Radish & Bacon Soup
Rattling Dishes
I’m listening to Natalie Merchant’s Beloved Wife, and I’m again reminded that with old age comes a sense of too much time perhaps. The narrator in the song has been left bereft by the death of his (or her) wife after fifty years and doesn’t know how to go on. The anguish in the song always brings tears to my eyes.
My inner-romantic longs for this grief, being unable to continue because my love is no longer with me. The cynic wonders if this is another example of the someday-my-prince-will-come myth. “Does this type of love happen anywhere outside movies, books and music?” the cynic asks.
Having never had a romantic relationship last longer than two years, I know something of that grief already, however. It’s a pre-emptive grief, knowing that it becomes less and less likely to be with someone for fifty years (just by dint of me getting older!). The grief is for missing a man who has not yet (nor may ever) come.
And yes, I’m an extremist, an all-or-nothing sort. The band Cake in their song Love You Madly talks about wanting a love where “all the dishes rattle in the cupboards when the elephants arrive.” I agree completely. To me, anything else is a waste of time. “I don’t want to sit across the table from you wishing I could run” as Cake puts it.
I’m sure many of you who are in long-term relationships want right now to tell me that I’m being unreasonable. That love isn’t like that. That love is also about not liking the person you’re with sometimes. I’m totally prepared for that, but even when I don’t like that person, I want to be madly in love with him. I’m not looking for happily-ever-after, just enduring passion.
This is why I’ve been single in my life more than coupled. I have set myself (not others – myself) a certain goal and am committed to sticking to it. For you see, as much as I dream of a dish-rattling passions, I don’t let not having one bother me (much). If I never feel that passion, I’ll still be content. At the end of my life (whenever that is), I’ll know that I never just filled time not being true to myself in any large-scale way.
Someday Lessons:
- Dreams are good, but don’t fill time waiting on those dreams.
- If you’re true to yourself, you’ll never have to just fill time.
Lunch Today:
A fluffy omelette with tomatoes, cheese and hot peppers.
My Big Comfy Beige Sofa
My sofa is too big.
I love it and it’s great for guests, but it had to come up through the window (fortunately casement!). And before the window route, we tried the stairs damaging the fabric in the process.
I basically live on this sofa, since I have no table (yes – still!), I eat here, I work here, I relax and sometimes even sleep here.
But it’s too big.
Know why it’s too big? Because it becomes a dumping ground for everything. I come home and anything non-food related ends up on the sofa. It’s like a too large room or house in miniature. Even when I stretch out, there’s still space to dump stuff on it. So dump I do.
In an earlier comment, Lisa added a not a while back about how when we have people over we tend to deep our places tidier. Here, no one ever comes over, so I never need to have the sofa free at all.
Of course, I do tidy it up regularly (pretty much daily actually), but stuff still collects. The empty space just begs to be filled. But you know what? I’m okay with that. It takes two minutes to organize and being surrounded by my stuff comforts me. So I’ll keep the big sofa and just embrace the mess it invites.
Someday Lessons:
- Not all mess is bad; don’t be a perfectionist.
- Accept that some areas will attract clutter no matter what you do.
Lunch Today:
The most expensive and most tender steak I have ever purchased from a butcher.
Hiding Behind (In)Activity
I hate cleaning.
I can procrastinate a whole day away not cleaning. I hide from my dirty house through TV, the internet, phone calls and "planning". I put the last one in quotes because that type of planning isn’t productive. It’s a time waster and nothing more.
I also hide from my writing. Not this stuff, the blogging. I have people reading updates with their morning coffee each day. I have an audience and, being a Leo, I thrive in front of an audience (even a cyber one).
No, I hide from my creative writing, but which I mean my fiction writing. I am so my parents’ child. My dad isn’t an artist because he just draws what sees, he can’t create from imagination. My mom isn’t an artist because she’s purely technical in what she does. And I’m not an artist because I just write a blog, which is really only a form of exhibitionistic verbal masturbation. A blog isn’t creative the way fiction is.
I hope none of you bought that load of crap just above. My parents are artists and I am too. But I use lines like that to hide. Fiction writing stretches me in new ways. It makes me vulnerable. It’s therefore scary and I hide from it. And since it’s writing, I cover myself with words, hoping I won’t be seen behind the psychobabble of rationalizations.
I just need to write fiction and keep writing it until it’s as easy for me as this blog is. I’ll stop whining now.
Oh, and I’ve figured out how to stop avoiding housework. I’m hiring a cleaning service.
Someday Lessons:
- Don’t fill your life just to avoid dealing with the real stuff.
- Take a risk and do something scary.
(And here is a way of getting over procrastination by Alexander Becker: How to Double Your Productivity with the Escalation Principle)
Lunch Today:
Leftover pizza (the egg thing: still good even when reheated).
A Me Day
Yesterday was a very self-indulgent day (read: I spent lots of money).
I needed to go into Pau to pick up something small, but going into Pau means taking a 7am bus to the train station and returning home at 7pm.
So, I went shopping and spent lots of money on: a coffee, a haircut, clothes, lunch, dessert & a tea, and pizza. I found the jeans I’ve been wanting – the fit is perfect AND they are the new slim fit (very exciting!). I also got a fitted sports jacket, a sweater and new underwear (wow! nice underwear is not cheap!). My hair is now manageable again and I’m totally sated food-wise. After this day of spending, I went home and watched downloaded TV shows (including the season premier of Veronica Mars! Yay!).
I know that that normally I’m a total anti-consumerist, but everything in moderation including moderation, so I indulge myself sometimes. Yesterday was pure pleasure principle. If it felt good I did it. For me, this is a way of letting go of control. I indulge and revel in it.
That’s it for yesterday… (amazing how a shallow self-indulgent day creates a shallow self-indulgent posting, eh?).
Someday Lessons:
- Let go sometimes and just indulge yourself.
- Whatever you do, enjoy it thoroughly.
Lunch Today:
(Actually again, it was dinner last night.) Local pizza made in a truck parked in the town square. The toppings were: piperade (a cross between pasta sauce and ratatouille, ham, raw sheep’s milk cheese called brebis, gruyere, and an egg cracked over the centre of the pizza just before baking – weird sounding but tasty).
Why I Love France
I love it here because I see things that just fill me with passion and happiness. For example, here’s someone who intrigued me when I was out at a café writing today. If I was a visual artist, I would have sketched him. Instead I did a word painting.
He stands by the lotto counter, watching the latest numbers come up on the television screen above us. He’s typical old-school French. A beret perches on his head and a stub of a small cigar angles up out of his underbite jaw and chipmunk jowls. He has crisp white hair and a neat full beard. His skin is sun worn. His clothes are formal despite the slightly downtrodden look of the bar. He wears a tan blazer, black pants, patent leather shoes with leather and wood soles and a white shirt. His only concession to modernity is the lack of an ascot.
I see people like this and all other types (except non-Caucasians, southwest France isn’t very multicultural) every day. I itch to draw them, so instead I describe them in my mind. Today it ended up on paper. People like him are why I love France.
Nine other reasons why I love France:
- The mountains that surprise me with their size when the clouds clear off the peaks.
- The winding roads that show me hidden pockets of beauty.
- The people who invite me places having spoken to me just once.
- The Basque culinary delights: Gateau, Sauce & Wine.
- The old mill house alone at the bottom of a valley I walk through.
- The casualness with which medieval buildings mix ancient stone, IKEA furniture and 1950s kitsch.
- The clouds that boil like grey lava above me or dash across the sky in fluffy games of tag.
- The rain that comes and goes with or without sun ten times a day.
- The freshness of the food. Meats that have real flavor. The full-fat cheeses. And the that-day picked vegetables.
Someday Lesson (only one today):
Find passion for life in the little things around you.
Lunch Today:
Sausage Ragout
Why I’m Here
I was a bit lost today.
I walked up hills and down hills, through forests, along narrow roads and on muddy paths. My legs and hips ached, but I was only just a little worried.
I was only worried because I might have ended up too far to walk home again, but after climbing a hill with a cell tower, I found Sauveterre again and got my bearings.
In the process, I discovered some beautiful off road walking paths, with arching trees, blue-green periwinkle and hidden little streams. Everything here is so lush. The maize harvest is underway, so bare brown fields contrast with the deep greens of meadows and forests. I took off my MP3 headphones several times just to listen to the sounds of birds, tractors and my own feet on the ground.
During all this, I had an epiphany. (Isn’t that a fun word? Ephiphany! I always think it sounds like an elephant sneezing politely). I realized why I’m here in France. It’s not to write. It’s not to “find myself.”
It’s to create time for myself.
Time for two or three hour walks, for daily shopping and leisurely meals, for naps and meeting new people. And yes for writing.
In Toronto, including all my work-related driving time, I worked on average sixty hours a week. And if I wasn’t working, I was thinking about all the things I should have been doing.
Today I thought about different ways I could ask for directions in French.
My Toronto life had drifted too far off course from my dream (working less and doing what I loved). I had to make a complete destination change. So I came to France to create the time I need to figure out that destination.
I made a drastic move but most people don’t. If you pay close attention to what your intuition is telling you (I ignored mine), you’ll know when you’re heading off course. Curt Rosengren calls it a “drift detector.” His blog post says it better than I could – take a look at it.
Of course, if your life is like mine was – where the sixty hours a week barely paid the bills, then perhaps a drastic change will also be necessary for you.
Someday Lessons:
- Time is finite – what are you filling it with?
- Create time for yourself for total relaxation (yes, that means without feelings of guilt).
Lunch Today:
(Actually I’m lying. It was dinner yesterday) Pear, Walnut & Roquefort Salad