Apologies for the lack of posting, but I’m having part of downstairs remodelled into a kitchen/diner, and attempting to live and work on only one floor has so far proved to be more challenging than I had anticipated.
Today is the first time I’ve had to just sit, take a breath and look around. I realised then that this time last year I was equally as surrounded by boxes, about to pack a few final things and head off to New Zealand for six months. It was a good way to remind myself that no matter how manic things feel right now, they are nothing compared to how things were back then.
A lot has changed. I’ve had the chance to travel a lot more and it’s been a year since I’ve worked for my old company. I still find myself in old work mode, especially now I’m driving up and down motorways so much and stopping at services. I look at the posters and the screens and can see touches of things I was once involved in that have carried on without me. I’m a sucker for nostalgia.
But anyway, before I drift off down memory lane, I thought I’d share the one insight I’ve had whilst trying to continue my writing and 2015 health resolutions and all that other good stuff that seemed so shiny on January 1st: Be Kind To Yourself.
You can have a plan, you can have a plan B for that matter, but sometimes it will still be an absolute nightmare to keep going when life throws you a curveball. Or in this instance, the lack of a kettle. No kettle equals no coffee at 6am and quite frankly, that is never a good way for me to start my day. It’s not that great for anyone around me either. Having intermittent access to water means I’m not drinking my 8 pints a day. And eating meals that come from either restaurants or the microwave is already starting to show in all the wrong places. I look at my weekly tasks and there is a significant lack of ticks in the boxes.
All of which means I can either try to continue with some things and do them badly, give up completely, or option number 3: acknowledge the difficulties, do the things I can and then make a solid plan to move more on them later. For most things, this is the option I’ve accepted.
Because I’m not ready to quit, but I’m not going to get down on myself for the things I can’t control either. At the end of January, I’ll get up, dust myself off (quite literally, as there is plaster dust in every ***ing room) and start again.