The only things I care about are things which use my brain… so there is an intellectual solitude which is like the solitude of the desert—dangerous to one's sanity. {Clelia Mosher}
March 27th, 2010 § 5
Yes. It was another false start for this (used to be) cerebral mum.
I will get back to it, I promise. I’m motivated, but overthinking everything as usual.
Too much clutter in my mind and on the screen.
I’ve fixed the screen at least. (You insane people who kept me in your readers for over a year can’t see that.)
Let’s call it a blank slate and start over.
Again.
March 6th, 2008 Comments Off
Eeek. Sorry for last night’s rant. 
It has been a massive week of organising my life and despite the fact that a couple of trivial things (like bad software) have made me pretty hot under the collar, I’m having a wonderful time and I’m happier than I have been in… I don’t know how long.
I promise I’ll write a lovely Smiley Saturday post and tell you about all the the things that are making me joyful.
At the moment, the big job is getting myself 100% sorted for this semester so it’s focus focus focus in the best sort of way. With Cas, I don’t have the luxury of fluffing my way through study any more. Besides, there is nothing better for me than being super-productive and working towards something meaningful. I know that when I’ve got a handle on all my studies over the next couple of weeks, I’ll have heaps of energy built up to deal with the things which have been dragging me down.
However, I have had second thoughts about taking on a full time study load this semester and I think I will be withdrawing from that 3rd subject, only because I’ve been stuck in this living situation for too long. I want to be able to get out of here and into my own apartment by midyear break. That, of course, will depend on someone buying my house but at the very least I would like it ready to sell and on the market. Once I’m free of that albatross, I’ll be able to pick up extra subjects and do them justice. As much as I would like to do everything at once, only so much is possible.
I’m also in the process of trying to come to an arrangement with the bank so that I can consolidate my debts and reduce my monthly payments. I’ve had to ask a relative to be a guarantor which is horrid position to be in (both for me and them) but at the moment I’m hopeful that I can get it sorted. Not having things in the red, at the same time as reducing my total monthly payments is going to make a huge difference to my psyche.
Over at the Aussie Bloggers Forum today, Ben Barden (great blogger, nice guy) linked to an article by Neil Jenman, How To Save Your Home, and everyone agreed that it was worth reading. Right now, I almost fit into the “mortgage trauma” category, despite the fact that when I bought the house the mortgage repayments were less than 25% of my income. I wasn’t foolish (Who needs a McMansion, anyway?) but life circumstances change. I just have to get my income and my living arrangements compatible again.
On top of all that, I’ve also got a dozen blog posts in development for here, there and everywhere, so it seems like I will be getting my blogging life under control soon as well.
Let’s just hope that the bank doesn’t send me into a tailspin again.
Overall, the best thing about being at university is that I feel like myself. (Can you hear all the energy?) I feel purposeful; I feel like I’m involved; I feel like I’m moving.
I’m a busy person now. I mean business.
(Btw: First history lecture today. It was fantastic! Off to write up my notes now.)
March 4th, 2008 § 6
Some people post about the bigger events in their lives. I rarely seem to be able too. When big things are happening, blogging doesn’t. Which I guess is why I’ve never kept a journal. So Week Zero (O-Week) was last week.
O-Week is “Orientation”. There aren’t any classes: It’s just time to hang out, get used to the campus, sign up for clubs and unions, go to information seminars, change your courses, sort out your books, ID card etc, etc… I only went in on the Monday, because I’ve done this before, right? And 5 hours on public transport is a lot to pay for a sausage sizzle. But I did write some scribbly notes on my home, and here they are…
Late last night… Still not organised. Should I even go to O-Week? There’s a host to meet at 9am for a “challenge”. That means I have to leave home at 6:30am. All my clothes are in the laundry. I have changed my mind 4 times already about whether I’m going to do it all or just go in for a couple of later sessions. Then it’s 2am and I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m finally excited instead of just worrying about being organised.
And then today… I wake up. It’s 8am. I guess that’s my decision made for me. I say to Big Sis, “Nope. Definitely not going.” I look at my O-Week program again and see that the Arts Faculty welcome is at 2pm. I can make that session.
I have the luxury of showering while Big Sis runs around stopping Cas from pushing all the buttons on the television. And the stereo. And the computers. It’s cold. the weather and the only clean items in my closet dictate what I’m going to wear. I still haven’t plucked my eyebrows. I take tweezers with me so i can do it on the train. What’s a few eyebrow hairs between commuters, right?
I finally get there, 2 1/2 hours later, and the weather has changed. I’m wearing a skirt as a top, smock-like over a black turtleneck, and a heavy winter coat. I take the turtle neck off. Still too hot. The coat has to go too, so it’s off to the bathrooms to remove my bra as well. Not exactly perky but a strapless “smock” hides a multitude of things, and at least I’m no longer sweating. I obviously wasn’t organised enough for Melbourne weather.
I have a list. The queue for ID cards is too long. The queue to even get into the bookstore is too long. I buy a latte and hang out watching the band. And then to the lecture hall.
It is far larger than even the largest lecture hall at my old Uni. I take a seat in the centre of the 3rd row. That’s where I always sit at the movies. I ask the girl in front of me if she went to the “challenge” this morning, just so I knew what I had missed out on, but she hadn’t gone either. The girl beside me starts a conversation, an American living in the Halls of Residence for her first Australian semester but planning on moving out once she gets her bearings. She’s lovely. But a photography major, so I’ll probably never see her again…
That’s where my notes leave off, but I did get my ID card and my books. And I was completely spellbound listening to the faculty welcome and all the phenomenal opportunities which are ahead of me if I want them… Internships, study tours and even an overseas semester with, wait for it… The fees covered by HECS! So now I’m dreaming of an extraordinarily cheap semester a Harvard. I just have to take a breath here and savour that thought.
Not only that, I also found out that I could switch to a double degree and get a Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Education at the same time in stead of just following my BA with a Dip. Ed. Now that’s a plan!
And not only that, I can factor in a Graduate Certificate of Arts & Social Sciences while still an undergrad as well. I’m not sure yet if I can do all 3, but if I can, I’m sure as hell going to!
By the way, my first actual real lecture was today, and fantastic, but I’m going to have to tell you all about that tomorrow….
December 4th, 2007 § 11
Yes. I have been avoiding it. I’ve been moving furniture instead. And toying with the idea of creating a plugin for WordPress. That, of course, is a skill I need to learn right now. It is very important that I learn PHP and smart CSS tricks. That I fix holes. Or learn how to fly a plane. Or how to turn straw into gold.
It is almost 1am and I haven’t written anything particularly purposeful for days. I don’t mean that I should be writing about depression all the time, but I feel very scattered and I can’t make sense of what I’m doing.
Actually, I know what I’m doing. I’m creating work for myself. I’m creating more burdens. I am bombarding myself with new ideas and new responsibilities. In a normal situation, that would be great. It would be one of those times when inspiration floods. At the moment, however, it just makes everything seem out of control. It’s supposed to, I guess. Because if I was in control, my messed up head wouldn’t be able to force me to look at myself.
That’s why I am so suspicious of people who think you can just behave your way back to normal. Pushing your behaviour is a part of moving out of this place, yes. But not the whole of it. If you don’t want to descend again, you have to face the ogres. You have to really spend time inside yourself. You have to listen. All this pressure – this imaginary pressure – it is telling me to listen.
I just can’t hear anything yet.
Right now, I’m going through a crazy cycle. Instead of feeling so exhausted that I don’t want to get out of bed, I really cannot force myself to sleep. Instead, my head is throbbing and my whole body is aching and I am typing frenetically, doing everything frenetically, but I have completely lost perspective on everything. If I stood up now, I think I would fall over. Instead of not being able to concentrate, I am concentrating too intently.
I should go to bed. I will make myself go to bed.
As I write that, my mind has already moved on to starting a new post. Because this one is finished. And the post after that is writing itself too. It just won’t stop. It physically hurts.
I. Am. Going. To. Bed.
If I didn’t have Caspar, that would not happen.
Caspar is a good, good thing.
October 30th, 2007 § 2
After spending hours last night on a post I decided not to publish, I have decided to take one whole week off. I’ll still check in and reply to comments, and I’ll still be doing lots of reading and commenting on other blogs.
I just have a lot to juggle at the moment and I need lists and plans and a little bit of order if I am to manage it all. And lists and plans take time too.
The charity I mentioned earlier is kicking into gear and I will post a link and information when the website is ready to go. It is still a while off, however, as it involves a little global co-ordination.
The resource blog I will be starting has received no attention as yet, so I will be dedicating some time to that this week, planning content and schedules and layouts although I will need a little money to do the set up properly, so it may not launch until next year. The content is not time sensitive, however, so I can do as much writing and building as I like before it goes live. I know I’m being coy about the idea, but ideas are valuable!
I also have an update about Hughie, before I go. We really had no expectation that he would be alive today. The doctors made sure we had no expectation of that. Against all odds however, he’s still here and his condition is improving. He is no longer on full life support and he is slowly being weaned off the ventilator. When he saw him yesterday, he was conscious but severely jaundiced and groggy and unable to communicate in anyway. Today, when his daughter visited, he squeezed her hand very hard and cried. If he continues to improve, he may be out of the ICU in three days. What the long term prognosis is, we don’t know, but any extra days or weeks or months… well, they’re good.
Caspar continues to amaze me every day. He will sit for half an hour at his table scribbling, turning the pages of his drawing pad, comparing his crayons. This is above the level of concentration I was expecting him to have at 12 months. He is saying mum-mum a little, and experimenting with the various meanings of Ta (which he pronounces Dah). Considering his hearing impairment up until the age of 9 months, the lack of muscular development for speech and the scar tissue on his palate I am more than happy with this.
Also, as much as he loves books, his taste is impeccable. He loves those that have been well written, with rhythm and sounds an adult can admire, and those with high quality illustrations. He has no patience for the cheap and nasty, pulp baby stuff. I am not projecting. If I pick up an “average” book, he will replace it with a better one. If I insist on reading it, he wanders off.
He seems to be picking up the meaning of words at an almost alarming rate. After only hearing, and being shown, Put it back, twice, he can follow that instruction. He even closes the cupboard door afterwards. Rather than being a pushy mother, I think that I need to up-the-anti somewhat on providing him with things to learn. Growing minds must be fed. He’s already trying to sweep with an adult size broom. Surely, I can think of some more useful skills to teach him than that!
And did you know that you could actually play soccer with one year olds?
But I shall return to enumerate the wonders of Cas in a week.
Until then…
October 19th, 2007 § 1
There is a lot going on right now. Good things. Life things. Rather than being stuck in my fog, I am now flooded by things to do. I’m inspired again, motivated again, and that’s exciting. I won’t be taking a break – I’ve found that I can’t stay away from this blog – but I will be trying not to post every day. I’m currently considering 4 posts a week, Monday to Thursday, or every second day. I haven’t decided yet but regardless of what I decide, it can only improve what I write here.
I don’t want to burn out. I have a terrible habit of burning out and, although I used to get so much done before my candlewicks met in the ashen middle, with Caspar now I just don’t have the luxury of recovery time and I have to find new ways to be productive. That sounds so tedious, “productive”, yet that part is exciting as well. The idea of focussing my energies on the things that matter to me (including this blog), of giving them the quality and consistency of attention they deserve instead of flailing around helplessly torn between the things I have to do and the things I need to do, just seems… hopeful.
I’ve always felt as though I had a purpose but all to often that feeling has been theoretical, overwhelmed by the demands of daily things if not completely incompatible with them. At times it has been present as a burden; something I used to beat myself down with, a weapon made of imagined failure which cut me and starved me both literally and figuratively and multiplied into an army. At the worst times, it has been hidden from me entirely.
Purpose.
I don’t think purpose is something ordained at birth: I don’t think it is something given to us with the colour of our eyes. I think it evolves in us through experience: I think it is our discovery of what is important to us, the unfolding pattern of the things we care about. Whatever those things may be – and they could be anything from cross-stitch to a cure for cancer – when we are struggling to give them space in our lives, we don’t feel important. We lose our sense of connection to the world. Everything becomes grey.
Right now, in my hemisphere, life is not grey. The sun is coming out from behind the clouds and it is Spring. Life is happening again. I was asked to join an online writer’s group and am now able to post draughts from my novel, get feedback and interact again with other writers facing the same issues, so I am no longer going to put off until tomorrow what I can do today. I’ve been asked to help create a new charity, which will entail a lot of work but which will be very worthwhile. I have a stellar idea for another blog, one which will create a resource rather than a record of my personal thoughts, and I want to start on the planning for it. And I also need to put some energy into my desire to go back to university next year, fill out more forms, make phone calls, make sure I’m not just another file on the course co-ordinator’s desk.
I have a lot of purpose. And none of it is theoretical.