Two months. I have made one batch of soap only. And the reason I made that one batch was because we actually had NO soap left in the house! We even had to head for the shop to refill the laundry detergent (I have had the same plastic bottles for close to ten years – the shop assistants laugh as they are so outdated), but now we’re back on track with the homemade stuff.
As anyone who has been reading these posts for a while knows, “goals” aren’t my strong point. I can make them (ish), but cannot convince myself to take them seriously, with my gnat-like attention span and ability to —“Look, shiny object!!” — be distracted.
Leaping from my secure lifelong employment last year felt like jumping from a plane with a parachute that would only last for half of the journey down – redundancy money only spins so far. From then on, all that holds me is my absolute trust and faith that (1) all will be well, and (2) all is as it should be (for me personally – not necessarily in the whole world, sadly).
Many years ago, I wrote myself a little poem / mantra, called “CHANCES”:
you walk through doors
when they open for you,
you won’t get
In my un-goaled meander through life, this is what works for me. Sometimes it gets a bit hectic. Like the past few months, when I have been enrolled as a full time student at one Uni (new skills), then successfully applied for a job half-time teaching (for 12 months) at another Uni (as a “professional” rather than an “academic”). Exactly right now, I have a brief hiatus between submitting assignments and marking exams. And between applying for, and learning the outcome of, another job I have applied for. Life in the new post-secure employment world.
Another tempting door opened a week or two ago, which of course, I had to explore. Years ago, I picked up a book to read on a plane (have I mentioned that I love airport books) by Joanne Fedler (https://www.facebook.com/joanne.author). Something in her writing resonated enough for me to sign up to her mailing list, and after a year or two receiving emails, the shining light of a “7-day Writing Challenge” attracted me – of course exactly in the middle of the most hectic time for both Uni’s. (BTW – I know I should probably not put a ‘ in Uni’s, but Unis looks weird – like “photos” – somehow the word just doesn’t look right).
Enough of my brain managed to engage to get the study assignments done, and probably pass my Uni tests, as well as engage the students and give them what they need for their future careers, but the undercurrent humming in the background of my consciousness was always “when can I get back to that writing?” This was an interesting observation for me – the background hum. Clearly all those “Reflective Journals” for the counseling course are shifting something in the bedrock in my skull. I am trying to give it a little space now and see what happens.
I had a quick weekend flit across our big country a week or two ago. Sometimes, the homeopathic effect is just what’s needed. Two days in Brisbane – feeling inspired by a 2 day workshop from the UK Guru Team of – wait for it – “Intestinal failure”! (You weren’t expecting that, were you?), combined with the delight of catching up with E’s family (a rare treat due to distance), and then a detoured journey home via old friends in Melbourne. A quick evening cheapie flight from Brisbane (possible on the east coast, never happens on the west) then a leisurely morning spent savouring bratwurst and coffee and nostalgic vegie shopping at the old Victoria Markets. A lazy afternoon in another friend’s familiar cosy lounge-room, couch chats, and a Brunswick cafe. Bliss. And an evening flight home. Another rare treat – to create and quarantine that time for half day celebrations of longstanding friendships. Note to self – do more of this! Life is short.
In this past week, I have been told of the deaths of two friends – both died alone. Both were found having lain alone for a couple of days after dying. Both lived and left life on their own terms. As B. said to me – when she phoned today to let me know that she had found the cold body of her friend of 40-plus years – this is a reminder that every moment of life is precious. Puts time into perspective.
My little Supervisor continues to run on borrowed time. We celebrated his 13th birthday on May 1st. We sent big boxes of chocolates to the Vets to thank them. He has apparently been “presented” at a conference, so miraculous is it that he is still alive. For all his bits that don’t work as well as they used to, he still has the softest, most snuggley ears on the planet.
This has been a slight ramble into Existence and Purpose, I think – certainly not much soap happening! I have set “Intentions” around writing and soaping (as opposed to “Goals”). I will see where my journey takes me next, very conscious of not wasting a moment. But for now, I am off to the footy – my team plays Rob’s today – I will save the empty chair next to me for him, and if his team wins – today I will not mind.
Until next time – be well and enjoy all your moments – they are precious!
Vale Rob and Caroline