Sunday, 20 December 2015

The eve of my new year



I have always written a blog post at the end of my year. I love my birthday - it is time to take stock, to think about new things that can be done... to fall in love with the Earth once again, to clean things out, to remember friends... to give thanks, to promise to do better... to try new things. It is a great time of the year. There are too many happy memories associated with it. My yule log cakes when I was a child, going to the zoo when I was ten, parties on the beach and at the pool when I was a teenager, celebrating my 21st in Luxembourg, in Oslo, Manila, in Belfast. My sons. My new lives, starting and finishing, phases of life - secrets always kept - sufferings which prepare my soul.

I have discovered something - I cannot drink anymore. Ten years ago I had to give up red wine. Now I must give up white as well. I had a drink and a half recently and proceeded to fall asleep quite quickly. Since I do not drink anything else - beer or spirits, this marks the end of my dinking days. It is not depressing at all. Because I have had my fair share of drinking over the years. It is my body simply saying, well, a new phase is about to open up in your life and maybe having alcohol in it counterproductive and pointless. Yes.

Having never lived my life in the What If phase, having never really lived it according to the dictates of You Should, there are very few questions which I have regarding my present. I have always insisted that I take responsibility for all my actions, so if it is fucked up, with the rare exception, I can say, this really was my fault. I was responsible for this. And that's ok.

The other thing is that I don't really have a burning desire to go places and see things anymore. This sounds terrible, but it isn't really. I mean I still love travelling, but I don't have this thing where I go, ah I WISH I travelled more. I WISH I saw this that and the other. I sort of feel like, yeah, if I go and see things I see things - but I know the world is really wonderful and it is pretty great to be wherever I am. I don't understand people who have this pathological need to go somewhere everytime they have three free days. I spend so much time running around all the time that when I get three free days I just want to sit still. I once explained it to a friend like this: travel is hell - the airports or the trips are the worst thing. So the time in between the travel and the actual experience of the trip needs to be kept as far apart as possible. If they are too close, the whole point of the trip is negated and you might as well not have travelled.

So - what do I think the future, the next year holds for me? Certainly more chaotic running to catch up with everything - there is so much to be done everyday that holidays are a time to just catch up with things. I am desperately trying to have a routine which means I do housework and things like that everyday, but I am SO tired when I come home that often it is more than enough to make dinner and prep for the following day.

Almost certainly, more gardening and more horse riding. Redoing parts of the house so that it has a vintage boho chic about it. Running a lot more. I really want to become very fit over the next year. Eating well. Really well. Playing lots of piano. Spending more time with friends. Making the effort. So - really more or less the list I had last year.

Everything else has been set for me - the boys, work, Singapore. Of course I must never make assumptions about anything. Nope. There will be rough patches ahead, and I must take these with equanimity.

So, a whole new year unfolds before me... wow, just wow. A field of untrodden snow. An untrammelled lake. An empty beach. A new page. The excitement is beautiful. I will just have to wait.

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