So here I am on a Monday morning, searching high and low for that elusive quantity called motivation. The author of the book ‘Emotional Intelligence’ says that we are all capable of influencing our emotions simply by exerting our will. On Sunday (yesterday) a cousin of mine asked me what the week ahead looked like, and I replied with such despondency she just had to shake her head. Basically I felt ZERO motivation to do anything – this could be I had put off all the most unpleasant tasks until this week, or maybe it is more of the general attitude I have towards my job these days – feeling like I need to effect a change.
Another possible problem could be the stalling of my looooong standing plans to start my own consultancy – I have prepared, designed, visualised, proclaimed, name it! But I am yet to make the step to contact a single school!! I even went through a period of dreaming I was pregnant for a couple of months, then one day I dreamt that I had miscarried!! :-/ Anyway, last week this speaker came to my school to speak to students on career guidance and brought up all my old frustrations with myself. Observing how poorly he did the job, I thought about how much better I could do it and yet here I was sitting around on my behind doing nothing!!! And THEN griping about lacking the motivation to do the work that I have chosen to hang on to doing!!
Last week things got so bad that I visited Susan Miller over at astrologyzone.com, a year or so after I threw her out. I have to say that I treat Astrology with serious scepticism since I can not figure out how or even IF it works, but Susan Miller gets so eerily accurate sometimes that I give her special consideration!! So, she says that Virgos in April are in rather turbulent times – things seem all uphill and no end in sight, and this has been and will continue to be the case for some 9 or 10 months for each of us! Apparently this is because Uranus, the great Innovator, and Saturn, the ruler of personal growth and commitments are both eclipsing the Sun in Virgo at the moment and shinning their rays directly at us. Saturn in particular is supposed to be a task master and will not let one off the hook easily, so only the most stubborn individuals will fail to turn their lives around during this time; all this to say that I really have to be serious and respond to the calling on my life.
ANYWAY.
I was saying. I need to motivate myself. Nothing will move forward and nothing will get done if I don’t motivate myself to put in the work. The way I see it, the sooner this work is done and my desk is cleared, the sooner I will feel free of the obligations that are weighing me down at the moment!!
Sigh…
A good place to start is to reflect on something great that I have been doing of late, and that is making these large salads. I find that they help me maintain energy through the day, esp. if I eat them for lunch, as opposed to some of my past starchy lunches that tended to send me to sleep! So now, I just came from eating my latest creation - it contains: Lettuce, Carrots, Green peppers, Onions, Tomatoes, Raisins, Avocado, Feta, Salt and Pepper and French dressing - DIVINE! Although I might skip the lettuce next time, it tends to wilt after a few hours. For instance I made this salad last night (had it for supper too), but by today lunchtime all the lettuce had wilted, whereas all the other vegetables were still nice and springy! I realise such a sald doe not require high art, but I hope this is start of many more to come - so far I am only following the advice of a friend of mine who said:
'Salads are really easy to make - all you have to do is throw in everything that you feel like eating' - although ofcourse I didn't take that literally.. I don't throw in everything..
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Thursday, April 03, 2008
ANTSY
I wonder if the infestation of ants in my house is a metaphor for my life; I had a long conversation with a friend of mine last night and he commented that restlessness has been an enduring theme in my life for the last few years. According to him, every time we speak (which 3 or 4 times a year on average) I am spoiling for a change of scene. I think I have been able to curb this problem by organising to travel quite often, and when such an opportunity passed me by (Barcelona which was supposed to be next week) my old antsyness reared its head again.
But first a little about these ten(ants) of mine: I moved into this apartment over a year ago, and was immediately accosted by armies of ants getting into every thing! Nothing was spared!! Bread, butter, cooking oil, drinking water (!) name it.. If I left a glass of wine by my bedside overnight there they were all over it by morning. Once I left a dirty plate on the dining table and the ants were all over it within an hour!! It is as if there are eggs ready to hatch out the very air of my house at any moment. One long weekend the tap in my bathroom sprang a small leak and water collected around it – our water pipes are a little rusty so the water is brownish when you first turn it on. When I got back, the water had evaporated somewhat to leave a congealed rusty deposit, and there I found ants busy – drinking ? – the rust. (Maybe that is why they are also always in my drinking water). Since then, there is constant trail of them going up into the hot water tank and I frequently have to drown them with a quick spray from the shower head to rid my sink of them. When I first moved in, other people living on campus told me that I had moved in during the season of ants - but as the season(s) have come and gone, the ants have stubbornly stayed. The Irish girl who lived there before told me later that the ants were a constant feature of the apartment the entire time she lived there.
Recently, tired of eating hard cold bread from the fridge, I devised a new hiding place for my bread. I had noticed that anything that I left atop my one burner gas cooker was left undisturbed. Last week I decided to stuff the bread into a saucepan and leave the saucepan on top of the burner, and since then I have enjoyed fresh, soft ant-free bread! The other place that the Ants never ventured was in my wooden sugar bowl – until earlier this week! I have resorted to keeping the sugar in the fridge as well, and until I empty the sugar bowl, I have to drink juice or tea with dead ants floating in it! The most amazing thing about these ants is that putting them in the fridge does not kill them!! When I put the sugar out for a few minutes, they will revive and go about their business again!! They even get under my sweet wrappers, and these days I don’t bother to brush off the immobile (dead? over fed?) ants before I pop one into my mouth.
All this to wonder if the Ants are a metaphor for my life. The last few days I have taken some time off to be my self. Easter weekend saw a historic gathering of my siblings, brother-in-law, nephew, cousins and an Aunt at my parent’s country home, and although this was great fun, it was somewhat draining. Living all the way out here is one of the things I love about this place – when I need to withdraw and be completely alone, all I need to do is go to my house and shut the door; no threat of unexpected visitors or anything; perhaps that is one of the reasons that thinking of leaving this place (as much as I desire it) gives me a pain in my leg (signifying a reluctance to move forward). Going back to town will bring me into close proximity with relatives, friends, noise, etc.
Anyway, it all started with me re-watching ‘The Secret’; As usual, I was prompted to ask myself what I really wanted. In the past I have described this in terms of places and job titles, and so on, but this week I wondered if I ought not just outline general characteristics and let the universe deal with the specifics. For instance – I have been going on about Edinburgh 2008. But on closer inspection, what is it about this move that would fulfil my desires? I know it has to do with an unlimited supply to literature of all genres at every corner, and a host of people to discuss it with, not to mention the possibility of pursuing my writing; historical sites to visit; close proximity to mainland Europe so that I can hope on a plane and visit any place anytime; etc. Also, it would provide me an opportunity to do my PhD, which is something I have wanted to do since September 2006! ‘The Secret’ encourages one to focus on an end result and perhaps it is time that rather than specify places (which I have no guarantee of fulfilling my needs) and methods and whatnot, I should just list the things that I enjoy doing, ways that I enjoy being, goals I would like to achieve, and so on.
The result of the last few days of reflection as I have already mentioned has been an increase in general antsyness. Two nights ago, I had a pain in my leg the whole night as I struggled with facing and owning the future that I want, which as far as I could see then would only be possible if I left this place. Maybe in that matter as well I should just concentrate on a way of life that I desire, and attract it into my life, instead of concentrating on what has to happen for that way of life to come about. Who says I cannot achieve this life even if I stayed here? To be honest, I do like it here – I mean there are aspects of the job that don’t thrill me, but on the whole there is a lot to be said for staying. No wonder my insides rebel against leaving.
Ah well, I’ll go work on that wish list then.
But first a little about these ten(ants) of mine: I moved into this apartment over a year ago, and was immediately accosted by armies of ants getting into every thing! Nothing was spared!! Bread, butter, cooking oil, drinking water (!) name it.. If I left a glass of wine by my bedside overnight there they were all over it by morning. Once I left a dirty plate on the dining table and the ants were all over it within an hour!! It is as if there are eggs ready to hatch out the very air of my house at any moment. One long weekend the tap in my bathroom sprang a small leak and water collected around it – our water pipes are a little rusty so the water is brownish when you first turn it on. When I got back, the water had evaporated somewhat to leave a congealed rusty deposit, and there I found ants busy – drinking ? – the rust. (Maybe that is why they are also always in my drinking water). Since then, there is constant trail of them going up into the hot water tank and I frequently have to drown them with a quick spray from the shower head to rid my sink of them. When I first moved in, other people living on campus told me that I had moved in during the season of ants - but as the season(s) have come and gone, the ants have stubbornly stayed. The Irish girl who lived there before told me later that the ants were a constant feature of the apartment the entire time she lived there.
Recently, tired of eating hard cold bread from the fridge, I devised a new hiding place for my bread. I had noticed that anything that I left atop my one burner gas cooker was left undisturbed. Last week I decided to stuff the bread into a saucepan and leave the saucepan on top of the burner, and since then I have enjoyed fresh, soft ant-free bread! The other place that the Ants never ventured was in my wooden sugar bowl – until earlier this week! I have resorted to keeping the sugar in the fridge as well, and until I empty the sugar bowl, I have to drink juice or tea with dead ants floating in it! The most amazing thing about these ants is that putting them in the fridge does not kill them!! When I put the sugar out for a few minutes, they will revive and go about their business again!! They even get under my sweet wrappers, and these days I don’t bother to brush off the immobile (dead? over fed?) ants before I pop one into my mouth.
All this to wonder if the Ants are a metaphor for my life. The last few days I have taken some time off to be my self. Easter weekend saw a historic gathering of my siblings, brother-in-law, nephew, cousins and an Aunt at my parent’s country home, and although this was great fun, it was somewhat draining. Living all the way out here is one of the things I love about this place – when I need to withdraw and be completely alone, all I need to do is go to my house and shut the door; no threat of unexpected visitors or anything; perhaps that is one of the reasons that thinking of leaving this place (as much as I desire it) gives me a pain in my leg (signifying a reluctance to move forward). Going back to town will bring me into close proximity with relatives, friends, noise, etc.
Anyway, it all started with me re-watching ‘The Secret’; As usual, I was prompted to ask myself what I really wanted. In the past I have described this in terms of places and job titles, and so on, but this week I wondered if I ought not just outline general characteristics and let the universe deal with the specifics. For instance – I have been going on about Edinburgh 2008. But on closer inspection, what is it about this move that would fulfil my desires? I know it has to do with an unlimited supply to literature of all genres at every corner, and a host of people to discuss it with, not to mention the possibility of pursuing my writing; historical sites to visit; close proximity to mainland Europe so that I can hope on a plane and visit any place anytime; etc. Also, it would provide me an opportunity to do my PhD, which is something I have wanted to do since September 2006! ‘The Secret’ encourages one to focus on an end result and perhaps it is time that rather than specify places (which I have no guarantee of fulfilling my needs) and methods and whatnot, I should just list the things that I enjoy doing, ways that I enjoy being, goals I would like to achieve, and so on.
The result of the last few days of reflection as I have already mentioned has been an increase in general antsyness. Two nights ago, I had a pain in my leg the whole night as I struggled with facing and owning the future that I want, which as far as I could see then would only be possible if I left this place. Maybe in that matter as well I should just concentrate on a way of life that I desire, and attract it into my life, instead of concentrating on what has to happen for that way of life to come about. Who says I cannot achieve this life even if I stayed here? To be honest, I do like it here – I mean there are aspects of the job that don’t thrill me, but on the whole there is a lot to be said for staying. No wonder my insides rebel against leaving.
Ah well, I’ll go work on that wish list then.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
BLESS STEVEN, ALPHA, ALAN AND WALTER AND THAT OTHER GUY
I just came from reading a short story by the French writer, philosopher and existentialist Jean Paul Sartre – the first time I am reading anything by him – such gripping stuff!! The story is called ‘The Wall’, and it is about three men captured during WWII who have just been informed that they will be executed the following day; it gives an account of their last night. What a fascinating read! Sartre himself was captured by Germans during the same war and was kept in a camp for a year before he was released (or escaped), so maybe he could well imagine what it was like to await one’s death – who knows he actually lived through such a night himself. What was really interesting was how one of his characters grapples with the idea that there is complete nothingness beyond death (a belief that Sartre no doubt held), but then appears to be unable to sustain this belief when the time of his death arrives.
These days I try to read with a writer's perspective, and one of the main things that occurred to me here was that one can really immerse oneself in an experience and write about it – even though one has never actually had such an experience - such as imagining what one’s last day on earth might be in this case. I have often worried that I did not have enough world experience to write convincingly about anything, or that I have not interacted with enough people or gone to enough places. This fear was mitigated somewhat when, as I read Sartre’s short story, I found myself able to imagine or invent various possible directions for the story to go – though I have to admit Sartre’s decisions were far superior to any I had come up with! At any rate, from now on I choose to believe that I am able or invent believable characters, create drama, and engage my reader at all levels! If nothing else, all the reading that I have done has been enough exposure to events, places and characters. At any rate, I emerged from ‘The Wall’ (because in truth the man had me completely captivated) feeling like reading is the best gift that God could have given me!! Bless Steven, Alpha, Alan and Walter and that other guy whose name I cannot remember now!! Tumusiime something or other. These are the young men who introduced me to reading when I was about 10 years old, although it has to be said my mother played her part too – I remember her buying me two books around that time: ‘A Call of the Wild’ and ‘Romeo and Juliet’. On the other hand, I read the bible ferociously, and since I remember reading it just for the pleasure of reading rather than religious reasons, I guess I also had a natural predisposition to reading.
(The title of this post is me trying to learn the skill of naming short stories – as any post here is – I have discovered that titles are a crucial part of the short story as they communicate just as much as the body of the story itself)
So, this brings me to another question that I have set myself – what kind of writer shall I be or am I? I find myself drawn to literature that posses questions, that explore experience, that probes the unconscious, rather than that which sets out to merely to entertain – I think I should be very satisfied producing this kind of writing. I have spent the morning reading famous last words, as well as the famous quotes of philosophers like Immanuel Kant and Voltaire (that is another subject yet to be mastered – Philosophy – but all in good time!), and they are the kind of things to really get you thinking. At one point, I was prompted to look outside my window and consider the true nature of things – to ponder the swaying of the leaves in the breeze, day after day those branches sway – and to what purpose? One might say there does not necessarily have to be a reason for everything, but I compare this to the life that man leads - sometimes it looks like we are going round in circles, no different from these leaves. Hmmm. No wonder some philosophers have driven themselves mad thinking about these kinds of things… Jean Paul Sartre was constantly tortured by his own freedom for instance, and what a great responsibility weighed down on him as a result, without prospect of escape from it as long as he lived. Looking at some of his sayings exposes this state of mind:
‘Hell is other people’.
‘Man is anguish’.
‘Man is a useless passion’
‘He was free, free for everything, free to act like an animal or like a machine...he could do what he wanted to do, nobody had the right to advise him...He was alone in a monstrous silence, free and alone, without an excuse, condemned to decide without an excuse, condemned to decide without any possible recourse, condemned forever to be free.’
I tend to agree with him to a certain extent about personal responsibility: we really are completely responsible for what we do, for what happens to us and so on, but I find that I can not go to the extremes he went; that we decide our reality, our destiny (although I believe that to an extent) – but somehow his thinking was too hopeless, too full of helplessness, uselessness, aloneness; in a word, too much for me to embrace. Although even the wise Solomon said everything under the sun is useless, everything has been done, and will be done over (or something to that effect). In a way, my hesitation to explore the extremes of Sartre's thinking makes me a little anxious about my commitment to exploring the nature of reality – why do I reject, or hold back from considering some of these ‘extreme’ positions? I should be able to go right to the edge and face the abyss. What am I afraid of? After all, I sometimes think that whatever is beyond the edges of my knowing is something warm and comfortable, rather than something waiting to gobble me up. Speaking of which, I have often wondered where I get this feeling of security – maybe it is just a state of mind that I choose, and therefore create.
At any rate, reading is just the biggest pleasure – observe what wealth of experience emerges from it! That short story has engaged me all morning - it has exposed me to one of life's greatest mysteries – the distance between what we believe, and what is likely to be the truth after all. Sartre’s last words were: ‘I Have Failed’. I certainly am aware that all this thinking back and forth, and wondering and pondering and reflecting may be a futile exercise, great thinkers have rehashed these same ideas and gotten nowhere as far as I can see, but what pleasure it brings me!
These days I try to read with a writer's perspective, and one of the main things that occurred to me here was that one can really immerse oneself in an experience and write about it – even though one has never actually had such an experience - such as imagining what one’s last day on earth might be in this case. I have often worried that I did not have enough world experience to write convincingly about anything, or that I have not interacted with enough people or gone to enough places. This fear was mitigated somewhat when, as I read Sartre’s short story, I found myself able to imagine or invent various possible directions for the story to go – though I have to admit Sartre’s decisions were far superior to any I had come up with! At any rate, from now on I choose to believe that I am able or invent believable characters, create drama, and engage my reader at all levels! If nothing else, all the reading that I have done has been enough exposure to events, places and characters. At any rate, I emerged from ‘The Wall’ (because in truth the man had me completely captivated) feeling like reading is the best gift that God could have given me!! Bless Steven, Alpha, Alan and Walter and that other guy whose name I cannot remember now!! Tumusiime something or other. These are the young men who introduced me to reading when I was about 10 years old, although it has to be said my mother played her part too – I remember her buying me two books around that time: ‘A Call of the Wild’ and ‘Romeo and Juliet’. On the other hand, I read the bible ferociously, and since I remember reading it just for the pleasure of reading rather than religious reasons, I guess I also had a natural predisposition to reading.
(The title of this post is me trying to learn the skill of naming short stories – as any post here is – I have discovered that titles are a crucial part of the short story as they communicate just as much as the body of the story itself)
So, this brings me to another question that I have set myself – what kind of writer shall I be or am I? I find myself drawn to literature that posses questions, that explore experience, that probes the unconscious, rather than that which sets out to merely to entertain – I think I should be very satisfied producing this kind of writing. I have spent the morning reading famous last words, as well as the famous quotes of philosophers like Immanuel Kant and Voltaire (that is another subject yet to be mastered – Philosophy – but all in good time!), and they are the kind of things to really get you thinking. At one point, I was prompted to look outside my window and consider the true nature of things – to ponder the swaying of the leaves in the breeze, day after day those branches sway – and to what purpose? One might say there does not necessarily have to be a reason for everything, but I compare this to the life that man leads - sometimes it looks like we are going round in circles, no different from these leaves. Hmmm. No wonder some philosophers have driven themselves mad thinking about these kinds of things… Jean Paul Sartre was constantly tortured by his own freedom for instance, and what a great responsibility weighed down on him as a result, without prospect of escape from it as long as he lived. Looking at some of his sayings exposes this state of mind:
‘Hell is other people’.
‘Man is anguish’.
‘Man is a useless passion’
‘He was free, free for everything, free to act like an animal or like a machine...he could do what he wanted to do, nobody had the right to advise him...He was alone in a monstrous silence, free and alone, without an excuse, condemned to decide without an excuse, condemned to decide without any possible recourse, condemned forever to be free.’
I tend to agree with him to a certain extent about personal responsibility: we really are completely responsible for what we do, for what happens to us and so on, but I find that I can not go to the extremes he went; that we decide our reality, our destiny (although I believe that to an extent) – but somehow his thinking was too hopeless, too full of helplessness, uselessness, aloneness; in a word, too much for me to embrace. Although even the wise Solomon said everything under the sun is useless, everything has been done, and will be done over (or something to that effect). In a way, my hesitation to explore the extremes of Sartre's thinking makes me a little anxious about my commitment to exploring the nature of reality – why do I reject, or hold back from considering some of these ‘extreme’ positions? I should be able to go right to the edge and face the abyss. What am I afraid of? After all, I sometimes think that whatever is beyond the edges of my knowing is something warm and comfortable, rather than something waiting to gobble me up. Speaking of which, I have often wondered where I get this feeling of security – maybe it is just a state of mind that I choose, and therefore create.
At any rate, reading is just the biggest pleasure – observe what wealth of experience emerges from it! That short story has engaged me all morning - it has exposed me to one of life's greatest mysteries – the distance between what we believe, and what is likely to be the truth after all. Sartre’s last words were: ‘I Have Failed’. I certainly am aware that all this thinking back and forth, and wondering and pondering and reflecting may be a futile exercise, great thinkers have rehashed these same ideas and gotten nowhere as far as I can see, but what pleasure it brings me!
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