Cleaning House

I’ve been cleaning around the house. To be honest, the place was a bit of a mess, boxes everywhere, books strewn all over the place, empty food wrappers where I’d left them, last night’s dinner plates unwashed by the sink along with a few others that I’d prefer not to carbon-date. A large basket of unwashed clothes. It’s amazing to me sometimes how I can be perceived by others as being a high-functioning academic when some of the simplest things baffle me. Swamped by procrastination again and again. The deferrals, the sometime-soons, the I’ll-get-around-to-its. No point fighting the procrasto demons. I find it's sometimes good to let them march by, wait till they disappear over the hill. Don't want to engage the swordplay - it just means more time before they pass on.

It was good to feel methodical again. 5 loads of washing. A decent meal last night, decent breakfast this morning. Walking slower. Breathing slower. Purposefully spending time on my own. Feeling productive in a non-productive sort of way. More grounded, at least. Seems I’ve been more or less absent without official leave for a while. Makes sense, given the year that I’ve had. I can feel glad that I’m not in worse shape than I might be, all told. Still here, still hopeful.

I have been feeling a bit buffeted by various forces and distractions and other people’s agendas and demands for grievings of various sorts, and I think I’ve finally decided to step out of the hassle and into a quieter place, until next time, so that I can listen a little more carefully to myself and to what’s going on. Eyes forward, gentle heart. At least that’s the intention. We’ll see how that goes.

It has been an interesting process at the end of an interesting month. I was beginning to feel like I had lost my mojo, and I think it’s back, for the moment. Once again I have been reminded that there seems to be nothing more important for me than feeling a little more at peace. Everything else stems from that in the way my relationships operate. The more anxious I get the more blind I get to the unhelpful situations I am contributing to. The more crap I eat the more anxious I get. The less exercise I get the more anxious I get. The more anxious I get the worse my judgment calls become. And I tend to make more of them when I’m revved up, which is a bit of a pain. I tend to talk more, think more, too. Words can generate so much unnecessary unhelpul energy a lot of the time. Listening does not mean waiting to speak. Works for conversations, works for life as well, I guess.

Settling back down again. Hoping that I can feel less busy and more active. Starting to play guitar again. Starting to write again. Starting to read again. Starting again in many, many ways.

Time to rethink, regroup, recalibrate.