Could always do better

Wednesday, 12 July 2017

You know the routine. You feel a bit crap, you go through the motions, you begin to pick yourself up again and not only pledge to do better, but list in intricate detail every which way you are going to make this 'better' happen. You're a writer and with that comes avid list-making. So you open up your rusty blog, intrepidly excited at tapping out those black and white letters that should ultimately make these little life changes official.

Except your silly little cycle is interrupted with some painful realisations and a lot of cold, hard evidence. You haven't blogged in nine whole months; your last blog post was exactly the kind of declaration that you were hoping to make today and, as your eyes travel down that fateful list, you swallow whole every possibility that you hoped to achieve. Nine months and you have nothing to show for it. Well, guys, that's me all over in five short points:

Never did my vegan month.
   Didn't buy that Garmin.
     NaNoWriMo was more like NaNoWriNo.
       This is still the first time that I've written since that all-promising blog in October.
         And the biggie: I turn 30 in less than a week - and my '30 Before 30' list is less than half complete.

And *wham*, there comes the overwhelming feeling of abhorrence. There's no two ways about it. I feel like a total failure and I have let myself down to the max, because I doubtlessly know that I could do better. I could always do better - five little words that I have plucked from somewhere unknown, held close to my heart and lived my life with. At any other time, they would have been the positive driving force behind every one of my pledges and actions. But somewhere along the way, they seem to have fallen off the vehicle that is my life.

I've always dreamed big, but I am starting to realise that the certainty of my own ability is riddled with self-doubt. Already that is such a huge admission, that the prospect of going further from this point is dizzying. While I've always been independent and a boss-lady of my own life, I feel that I am beginning to regress ever so slightly: a smidgen of hand-holding seasoned with a little bit of opening up. I flit between feeling desperate to sell all my belongings and indulge a nomadic lifestyle, tied to absolutely nothing, and wanting to spend more and more time sleeping in my childhood bedroom. I'm not sure at which point I will stop, or settle. This is only just a small part of the never-ending fluttering of my thoughts - leapfrogging wildly until they hit stormy waters, a wee pause to ponder how to navigate further taking the well-trodden stepping stones back to shore, and repeat, and repeat.

And one thing I know for certain, is that I am not alone in this sentiment.

So no, this is not the most happy post that I have ever written, and it's perhaps a stark contrast to every other blog out there, but if there's one underlying theme it doesn't lack, it's positivity. An eagerness, not for a better life, but for an improved lifestyle. And that perhaps the most that I can promise right now is baby steps and hand-holding. But that's okay, isn't it? After all, it doesn't matter what journey we take to reach our destination, as long as we get there in the end.

And one thing's for sure - I am a pro at working things out along the way. So, we'll see how it goes.