Don’t dig your heals in and hold the door frame

I’ve been trying to hold back tears at work this morning. My throat is a little bit sore and my tummy isn’t loving me today so it could just be I’m getting sick and being emotional comes from that. But it’s a very strange mix of happy emotions and sad. As I sat looking at my Instagram (bet there hasn’t been an emotion inducing sentence quite like that before), I couldn’t help but be a little in love with my life and incredibly sad that things are moving on.

While I was travelling I noticed something about the way I viewed the world; I began to fall in love with how things smelt, how they felt, with the perfectly imperfectness of it. I fell in love with cloudy, rainy days in the mountains, with the bad smells in the markets in Cambodia, with the loneliness of travelling Vietnam by myself, with the stupid bike with the flat tire and plastic seat that caused chaffing. All the things that were wrong made it something. I loved the perfect things, but I was in love with the imperfect ones. They were what tested my character and what I noticed made the biggest changes in my personality.

I can’t deny the statement of ‘I was a different person when I came home’. It’s so cliché I haven’t wanted to use that so far. But I can’t think of any way around it. I was a much harder person, my heart had a much smaller capacity to love, and my walls refused to allow me the luxury of being in love with anything.

The world is an incredible thing to be in love with.

So where does all the emotion today come from? Well, when I came back from that trip, life was anything but perfect and it was anything but what I expected, but I loved it. I don’t think I’ve ever just relaxed, let my walls down, let my guard down and enjoyed where life was going like I did then. It’s normal I want to keep hold of that.

But things are changing, in great, wonderful, spectacular ways, but they’re different. That photo on my Instagram, a really lovely imperfect black and white shot of my besty and I on our last walk before she heads away, captured all of that. It captured how incredible being in love with the imperfect is – with the things that catch you off guard, that surprise you from nowhere.

I’m fighting back tears she’s leaving. And I’m incredibly happy that I feel that way. It means I’ve learnt to care deeply and not to shut off because it’s hard to say goodbye.

It’s easy to get caught up in life and just keep moving; we rarely stop to appreciate the moment of change, or how far we’ve come.

It’s not easy to move on from things you’ve left behind. Actually, it’s really bloody hard.

I spent several years looking on Facebook at people horse riding and competing. It was torture to see them doing what I expected to be doing. But just because it was hard to move on didn’t mean it was what I was meant to be doing it. It just meant it meant something to me. I loved competing, but there came a time where that wasn’t where I was headed anymore. It’s not my journey, it’s someone else’s. It’s what I thought was mine. But it wasn’t. It’s prepared me for many, many more journeys though.

When I watched my best friend get married and my little sister get engaged I struggled. That was the journey I wanted to be on, what I thought was what I was meant to be doing. But I was wrong at the time. It doesn’t mean it won’t be my journey, it’s just not where I was meant to be at the time. I struggled because it meant something to me, not because what I wanted was right.

Now I sit and see journalists ace stories, I see people doing my job well, I see people winning and making waves and I hear of good stories and I pine after it. I wanted it so badly to be me. But I know, deep down, where I’m headed now is where I am meant to be heading. I miss it, because it meant something, not because it’s where I should be now.

And there are days I still miss the farm. I still see photos of life back then and I miss it. I still get along with Alex. The last time we spoke it was like old friends catching up. But that doesn’t mean it was right. It’s not what either of us needed any longer. And sometimes I struggle with that because it meant something to me.

We all struggle to move on because it meant something. But staying put and chasing the past does not get that back. It doesn’t make it right.

We want to run back to what is familiar and comfortable when times are tough. When we see great change ahead it’s normal to want to run and hide under our blankets and let life stay where it is; where it’s comfortable.

Making things happen, being something, achieving something, satisfaction, love, being in love, travel… all of it is incredible, all of it is within our reach…but don’t ever expect it to feel comfortable.

You’re stepping outside of a comfort zone, that’s how you get somewhere. It’s never going to feel comfortable.

I imagined life to be much more ‘collected’ – a series of events which take place in a controlled chronological order. But it’s not at all. It’s often an unpredictable series of events, at times the events don’t always make sense. But you’ll look back one day and realise what those stepping stones, those branches that smacked you in the face, that mud which held you back, those roots you tripped over… were there for.

When you’re feeling the least comfortable, when you know deep down moving on is right, achieving is right, but you’re still stuck wanting what is familiar, think to yourself, back to a time in your life you struggled to let go and just think, what would life be like if it had never changed from then? Would you really still be happy if it had stayed exactly the same?

Would I be happy if things had stayed the same? No way.

I wouldn’t have a boyfriend who twirls me around the supermarket or turns up to work with flowers. I wouldn’t have had the balls to apply for the police, to start running, to study psychology. Heck, if life had stayed as wonderful as it first was when I started my job as a journalist I never would have left, I never would have gone overseas. Things change because we need them to, not always because we want them to.

Am I 100 per cent happy with where I am right now? No way. But I am in love with my life in every imperfect detail and every day I wake up proud of how far I have come and excited about what I can achieve… even the things I have no comprehension of right now. God’s got it.

But I struggle still to let go completely, to move on entirely, and to trust that there is a season for everything.

Who doesn’t?

So on that note, I’m off to continue eating my popcorn and sipping my tea, waiting for that 2pm to come around and for me to race out of here in search of weekend freedom!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Here’s a fantastic song and another rant.

On days like today, when you just come to accept the fact the world is going to throw it all at you, I listen to songs like this. I also drink copious amounts of tea, work productively, and dream about tropical white sandy beaches and cocktails. When I get to the point of “Oh fine, come at me” I feel empowered. Not that I actually mean come at me, because too many more crappy moments today will probably result in me, with my teddy, a hot water bottle, chips, and more tea, in bed at 6pm, searching the internet for inspirational crap. 

If I reach that stage, I strongly suggest someone rescue me before I eat myself into the murky depths of wallowing. 

Then again, at least it would mean I was warm. But the sun is out today, I’ve dyed my hair, and I have my purple coat. That’s a pretty good part of the day. 

Good days you’re mine

I think I need more sleep. I walked into a door today. Well, I didn’t actually walk into it as such, I opened it, but only enough that half of me fit before my hip caught the handle. It was a good day, it is a good day. My horse went really well this morning, the sun crept over the property just after 6am and the fog made it look mystical. I live in an incredible place.

I managed to get snapped at by a source before 9am, which is a new record for me. Unfortunately I wasn’t in a bitch voice mood, more of a cry in a corner mood. So I just went and found funny things online to try and cheer myself up again. 

I don’t know if I came on here to convince myself it was a good day, or to convince all of you. But I think it is. The sun is absolutely beautiful, the air is crisp and cold. I have the house to myself for a week. I had a fantastic holiday. I even had a great night over desert with friends, the first time I’ve spend time with a group of friends for a while. 

Perhaps it is my crazy side desperate to escape, after all I haven’t had any adrenaline rushes for the past month. Managing to not get washed away driving through a storm doesn’t really count…

So, I have made the decision, today is going to be a good day. Because I’m in a good place right now.

I am prone to wallowing, it’s one of the downfalls to being someone who loves to embrace everything… that sometimes means embracing sadness for just a little too long. 

As of now there will be no more wallowing. I will enjoy getting through my overwhelming to do list. Just one step at a time. I will enjoy relaxing tonight in front of the TV with a fluffy blanket, after trying another saddle on my horse and giving the other one cuddles. 

I need to learn to jump from one high to the other, none of this rolling down the hill into the dip, I don’t ‘flow’ I organise. I’m now organising happiness and I am saying it’s going to join in my day. 

Maybe I did come on here to convince myself it was a good day.

Hopefully I convinced you too.

 

 

 

In my corner

I haven’t blogged in a while and I feel a bit bad about that. Not really actually, because it is probably for your own good. I’ve been terribly emotional lately. Not quite sure what’s happening in my brain, it could be the influence of the detox, stress, bad food, a bug. No clue really. Perhaps a combination? Either way, the people closest to me will back me up on this one… blogging was not a good idea. But, I have had a weekend away to get rid of all my blahhhhhness and I am creeping toward my normal, kind of balanced, see the funny side of things self. Sort of. I am at least sane enough to be back on here. 

Every time I do an interview I write the date above it in my shorthand notebook. It is a little depressing seeing the days gallop on by as you just sort of stand there waving with a slight pout. The depressing part (ok… so perhaps I lied a little when I said I was better. But hey, I’ve just sort of adopted my unstable state and rolling with it) is knowing everyone else is counting down the days to their exciting trips… I’m just getting older.

It’s nearly half way through the year. Three of my good friends are off overseas this year for exciting adventures, one for a long time. Life is happening! Mine is well… meandering along. I like meandering. But I have a classic case of FOMO (fear of missing out) that my father goes on about. I don’t like it. And I want to throw a little tantrum about it.

On a less spoilt brat note, things are going to change. I’m not sure if I will be in the same house with my flatmate finishing her uni course, I will (well, I should) sell one of my horses, I’ll have a foal, granddad is doing ok but things will not stay the same forever, I’ll be saying goodbye to a friend. I know, they’re all pretty small things. But I like life the way it is now, I just learnt to love it, like Alex keeps insisting I will love facial hair. I won’t, for the record. I really will not. I would like life to stay this way – in my happy little bubble. 

But now my tears have stopped just sort of spontaneously consuming my face, and my brain has stopped wanting to stomp people into the ground, and I’m kind of being rational, I have come to accept the fact things will change, no matter how hard I try to keep things just perfectly fluffy and safe.

Like my wonderful mohair blanket. 

But life starts when I get out from under it’s incredible warmth. 

So… I tentatively say… bring it on.

The good feel

It’s hard sometimes not to loose heart. Especially when the world just don’t wanna turn in your direction. But hey, thats ok. Sometimes it’s about finding your happy feel. This may sound a bit weird but pretty much what I mean is find a moment that made you happy. For me the first year of tech was AMAZING, exciting, new… everything was wonderful and for most of it, I remember being really happy. Often I miss those rather carefree times. Why? Well as I have gotten to my ripe old age of 19 I have slowly become what some would say a ‘grown up’ ‘mature’ others… well like me, would say ‘boring’. Now I do not despise this life. I think I have grown into it. But sometimes when I find myself wishing I could just go back in time I have to just stop… why was I so happy back then?

Late nights and no sleep…drama and no routine…countless new friends…lack of money…forgetting the lack of money…being on your own…. hmmm no. I don’t miss no sleep, I love my sleep now! I don’t miss the bad diet or the ping pong living. I am still on my own. I just forget that sometimes, I can do what ever the hell I want.

That is what made me so happy that first year.

So in light of this new found moment of glorious intelligence, I got up at 12.30am and I made chocolate brownie. 

To most that may seem irrelevant. To me it was a moment of taking back a little bit of myself. Spontaneity is something to be cherished. Not something to be hidden.  Brownie making is a somewhat heathy way to express that. 

Feels good.

The tale of the journalism kid

Ahh, reporting. I do enjoy the newsroom atmosphere. Between Melissa singing her strange jingles for almost everything usually ending with her own name… then you have the usual banter between each other, the ribbing and then Melissa’s off the cuff comments topped by some inappropriately timed comment from one of the boys… then Melissa not quite getting it. I like it. It makes me laugh. 

Our ghost has been quiet today… I’m not sure why… maybe he doesn’t like dryers or sunny days? My mind boggles… 

Of course then there is the increasingly growing pile of washing in my room- topped off by the washing thats been sitting in the washing machine for a week… It’s one of those ‘please please please just be done without me having to lift a finger!’ type things… perhaps our ghost could help me out? 

Then there’s the vacuuming, (still find it strange that word has two u’s… it just doesn’t feel right)… our floor is looking increasingly suspect… 

And sky seems to have this amazing new talent for selecting certain channels not to work on… I mean thats just brilliant… I don’t pay enough money as it is to watch it… 

Then again I don’t really have the time to do so… so I suppose I can’t really complain… perhaps they’re doing me a favor… 

My list goes on. 

In between the chaotic madness that has become a somewhat enjoyable insanity of my life, I have managed to eat crackers and cheese, read TWO- not one… but TWO gossip mag’s and have time for nearly 8 hours sleep each night! 

Brillance. 

Nap time… bring it on!

Its a nice day today. A sunny day. A happy looking day. I’m wearing my new cuddly jersey and I managed to eat 3 times today already! I’m underway with stories and no longer stressed about getting them done. 

Now I’m listening to a bit of music and laughing in class. It’s nice. It’s fun. Enjoyable. Many of the things we talk about would make most people question our maturity. I like it. 

One thing we were talking about today is being a kid again. 

Nap time. Baby food. Being read stories instead of writing them. It sounds heavenly! I mean when we were actually that little we never enjoyed those things because we had no idea what else was out there. I suppose that’s like anything though. You never know how good you’ve got it until it turns on you. Grows, develops into something you’re so unsure of. 

Man it would be so nice to be a little kid again. At least then I could throw tanties when I wasn’t happy! And sleep… all the time! 

Let’s grow down!

Here’s to coping with another day

Today was good. I rode my horse for the first time in years with absolutely no expectations. No goals or aims. I just had fun. Having fun. Wow, that is something that I don’t do often. Letting my hair down as such. No lately I’ve been more of a hair in a tight ponytail type person (metaphorically speaking as a ponytail actually gives me a headache). Maybe it is growing up. Perhaps it is the constant ‘be better’ pressure. 

It was a nice crisp Autumn day. Cold but not too cold. The grass has started growing again! I have plenty of hay. Plenty of feed. My horse is in great condition. We just went for a pleasant gallop across the paddock. It was border line saddle club style. 

Anyway, while I was taking in all the wonders we do actually have in the Waikato… yes I know, there are some. Like grass. It’s a wonderful thing when you’re part of the people who need it. I realized that it is impossible some days to wrestle yourself out of many of the hollows life likes to chuck you in, in a mad bull just bucked you off sort of way. 

For me, I see life as a fairytale. I have to. It is. I really actually do appreciate the smell Autumn leaves, hanging around just sort of lazing toward your nostrils. Or the way the infestation on rabbits is painfully annoying but incredibly cute! And the way I feel when I can just relax for those precious moments.

In a mumble bumble of story gathering, news writing, enjoying my horse and trying to enjoy the not so enjoyable aspects of life I am building myself.

Block by block we will get there. It might look a little patchworky but it will be whole. I’m not the person I was. I am a better version of it (unlike apples repetition of the same phone!). 

Eventually I will actually overcome the other little things that seem to hold me back… but until then it’s time to take it on the chin, suck it up like I’m squeezing into my new pants and build little walls to keep those nasty beartches out. 

You’re gunna make it one day kid.

It’s really happening. It’s all over now.

Oh flying peacocks and pink coloured mermaids. I feel as though the world is falling apart. Emotions seem to be running high and life seems to be just a little bit like we’re on the edge of a cliff and there is a possibility that the next sneeze in the wrong directions going to put you at the bottom. Fun, don’t you think? I mean I can’t talk I’m certainly on the end of the emotional spectrum (not sure which end… I think I’m borderline over dramatic and totally unable to take emotions too seriously… with exceptions like any good rule). But lately it seems like we’re living in either an American highschool or on ‘Day of our lives’.

It’s great. I enjoy it. I find human behaviour interesting. Sort’ve in the same way I used to watch my goldfish try to commit suicide by leaping out the water…before he died… in utter fascination and bewilderment.

Thankfully in order to take emotion far less seriously than I should and perhaps without a side of compassion, we have council reporting. A supposedly boring and long drawn out class- which, thanks to the tutor is actually bordering on mildly insane and makes me chuckle. Especially when our nearly retired tutor starts talking about penis’ and strange unrelated topics and the use of a dictionary that I swear weighs more than me.

So coming right back in good old-fashioned full circle. Life is just a little bit crazy on a plate of insanity with a side of emotion followed by a course of ‘can you believe it’ and a glass of astonishment.

I like it.