Some days I suck like a baby
by , 05-03-2010 at 12:30 PM (2015 Views)
Be warned, this is a general moan. There's nothing wrong with me, just venting.
It's Bank Holiday in UK today. Bank Holidays are like a gift: precious, fleeting, and not to be wasted. Not to be spent sitting in cars on motorways, but time to be spent doing something else, something relaxing, something worthwhile, something active, something.
So most of today I've been sitting here doing nothing.
And I've been getting gradually more and more aggitated.
Because it bugs me when I do nothing. There are types of doing nothing which are okay, deliberate nothings like not reading a book whilst swinging on a hammock, or sitting outside and watching the clouds go by, or being with someone, or lounging around listening to music and letting the minutes fall as they fall, sometimes doing nothing is doing something, but that's not the kind of doing nothing I've been doing today.
And I'm annoyed with myself.
Because there are lots of things I could be doing. I've been learning to sew (with a sewing machine) and I could have done that, but I didn't.
And I've been learning Japanese and I could have done that, but I didn't.
And the back garden borders need widening and weeding and I could have done that but I didn't.
And I could have written a story or a poem, but I didn't.
Instead I made sushi which fell apart and which I threw in the bin.
And I got more annoyed.
And I could have gone cycling, but I didn't.
And I could have gone for a walk, but I didn't.
The weather isn't great, but it's not so not great that I couldn't have gone outdoors and done something out there.
And I realised, as I was sitting here getting more and more annoyed with myself, that there's a reason I'm not doing any of those things and that reason is that they are all hard things and they are all routes to failure.
Because sewing, when you're just working it all out for yourself, is hard. And it's disappointing. I made a curtain a couple of weeks ago, to hang over the front door - a glass panelled door - to keep nosey people from being nosey when we're in our pyjamas at night. It was my first project. I found some really lovely fabric and I washed it and I pressed it and I sewed it, and my sewing wasn't great - a bit wobbly - but it wasn't that bad and then we painted the hallway and the stairway and the landing upstairs and the kitchen and the utility room. Then we hung up my curtain. And it was too short. So we took it down and I thought I could fix it but I can't so it's just no good. And I was, and still am, so annoyed with myself.
And Japanese is hard, especially when you don't have a teacher or anyone to motivate or measure your learning. I've learned the hiragana; I'm learning the katakana. I can say a few phrases. And then I see something in Japanese on TV and they're rattling away and they might as well be speaking Swahili for all the use the Japanese I've learned is. And suddenly it seems impossible.
And the weeds just keep growing in the back garden. I can dig them out, but they'll just come back.
And, at the moment, my poetry sucks and it's hard because my rhythm is all messed up and I haven't got the feel for it right now, so everything I write feels stilted and effortful. And my stories never quite manage to meet the vision I have in my mind and because they don't I end up throwing them in the bin. Because they're just not that good, and probably never will be.
And the sushi got thrown in the bin.
And it's easier just not to try.
And it's too cold and miserable to go for a walk or a ride. And if I did go for a walk or a ride the whole time I'd be thinking I should be doing something else because I'm only doing this because I can't think of something better to do or because I'm avoiding doing those other things which feel hard.
So I've been feeling a bit sorry for myself, and that makes me mad.
Because, in general, I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I expect a lot better of myself than this.
And when I think about it, pretty much everything in my life is a bit like this. Everything is an enormous challenge and nothing is easy. Of course there are things that are easy, I'm just being melodramatic now - I did warn you, but everything I want to do is hard. I guess I just want to master something through my own force of will.
Even in work it is hard because I'm in a new job and back to being a learner again so everything is new and difficult and it's like following a treasure map riddled with traps and tricks and things I can get wrong or miss and I know the treasure is out there somewhere and that I can deviate from the path and probably still find it, but at the moment it's a long, long way away and between me and it is an impenetrable forest; an insurmountable mountain; an impassable, people-eating bog.
So I had a chat with my hubby and he reminded me that every journey, however difficult it may seem, starts with a step, just one, then another.
So I read a bit of Lost Paradise which is a super-fantastically inspiring book and then I went to the fabric shop and bought some more fabric and I'm going make a start on a new curtain.
Tomorrow.



