Adaptation

Change is never a bad thing. Every door you close opens a window.

I am a hypocrite.

I fear change like I fear spiders and hair in my food. Even when these things are not there, they are always on my mind...always partly in my consciousness.

I am at a stage in my life where things are changing. Growing. Stretching. Part of me fears that I'm not actually changing at all, but that my surroundings are, and I'm just learning to adapt. Maybe this is all change is. Adaptation. Acceptance. Maybe we don't change at all, we just learn to acknowledge and respect changes in others.

I think that sometimes we honestly just have to believe that we will change when we are ready, and when we are meant to change. I have spent many nights, many long days, beating myself up over the choices I have made and will make, and I have finally reached the conclusion that I'm doing everything as I should be. Don't push yourself. Trust that it will be ok.

It's hard. Hard not to interfere, but I think there's some beauty in getting it wrong, and somehow getting it completely right at the same time.

Everything really will be ok.

But I still don't have to like spiders.

a spring cleaning

Yesterday I broke my own heart.

I realise that over the course of my life, this will be a minor heartbreak, a blip of pain, a tangy memory, but right now it's very real. I have done this before, I will do it again, and it's always different. Sometimes it's a single tear, sometimes it's a panic, sometimes it's a knot in my chest. Sometimes it's just too much.

I am a strong advocate of the therapeutic properties of a good cry. The pain of letting a wall of anger and frustration and grief form around you is far worse than just letting go and having a good, long, cleansing cry. I think that sometimes people are afraid to cry, afraid to see how deep their emotions run. My grief always manifests itself in a spider web of connecting thoughts, connecting lonliness that, on their own, are easy to tolerate, but as a whole are overwhelming. So every once in a while, like a sort of spring cleaning, I like to let it all go.

Free myself of the tangle.
And lighten up a bit.

Dogs and iPods

This morning on the tube, my discman started behaving in a most unnecessary and unwelcome fashion, squealing at me and drowning out my Neutral Milk Hotel. I realise that this is only the first sign of what is sure to be many more squeals and shocks and skips before my handy Panasonic gets binned.

Perhaps it's time to join the ranks and purchase an iPod.

I don't take this decision lightly. Much with my constant contemplation of purchasing a pair of Chuck Taylors, I am sitting on a very small fence that divides my need to be an individual and battle the conformity of the "hipster" crowd, yet
drooling on the window as I pass by my localMac store. I like to spin the little wheel, what can I say?

While I can't afford to purchase an iGod even if I want to, this did get my mind churning with thoughts of what is really important to me. What do I actually need to be happy? As a reponse to Keri Smith's entry, I have compiled a list of things that I consider to be neccesities:

An oven that works. None of this el cheapo gas range circa 1939 stuff.
A comfortable bed. Possibly with pillows.
A warm shower.
A pen.
A place to doodle. Post-it Notes seem to be my current favourite.
A camera.
Film.
A source of music.
A comfortable pair of shoes.
A place to purchase decent food. Organic if possible. I would love a garden.
Someone to hug me and make me laugh.
Some good books.

And possibly a dog.

Bloggy Goodness

This is the first.
The first of a few.
Fiction fact fantasy.