Tuesday, 27 October 2015

And So It Is



I'm not one for rituals, or routine. 

I have my morning routine- up at 6:45am, kettle on, shower, make tea, music on, clothes on, sip tea while blow drying my hair, make up on, work snacks gathered, and out of the door by 7:40am (to be at my desk for 8am- yes, I'm that person). But aside from that? I like to take days at face value, to enjoy them independently, individually, for precisely what they are.

A new opportunity.

But recently, M and I have slipped into a funny sort of routine. 

Conflicting diaries and the kind of time consuming dramas and issues which make you realise holy hell I actually am an adult (that is to say, house sales and job interviews and meetings with lawyers and meetings at all hours of the day and the like) have meant that lately, we haven't been able to see quite as much of each other as we might have liked.
But somehow, Sunday has become our day. 

We don't necessarily do the same things each time- in fact, we've never done the same thing twice. But Sunday is a day where we do our best to make time for each other. 

Chopping wood by hand and building campfires. Teasing each other. Long walks through Richmond Park to peek through the telescope at King Henry's Mound. Buying fancy teas. Or even just a stolen half an hour, hidden away in a stairwell to keep out of sight of prying eyes.

(Life is complicated)

But life is what it is, and for those hours on a Sunday, none of the dramas or difficulties or complications seem to matter. Technology and tiredness and complexity gets put to one side and we are just... us. 

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Small Happy Things


A delicious Portuguese red wine, shared with friends over steak and ale pie and wide ranging conversations.

New feather pillows.

Plans to visit Jenny for wedding cake planning and long catch ups (and, I'm hoping, a countryside walk with Pip) 

Being taught how to chop wood correctly with an actual, proper axe.

Long walks through Richmond Park, complete with a peek through a telescope to spot St Paul's Cathedral, and childishly balancing along the edge of a wall, instead of walking on the path like a sensible adult would.

Tesco deliveries where unpacking the box feels a little like Christmas: "Oh, I forgot I ordered this!"

The autumn sunshine, and watching the sky change colour as I peek through the window while I shower.

Plans for a supremely girly day with one of my favourite women on the planet, complete with wedding dress shopping, make up lessons, and tea at Ladurée.

And a man who is incredibly important to me, who told me lately that I don’t seem 25. Despite my baby face, and tendency to dance to Taylor Swift, and the wide-eyed wonder with which I look at the unfamiliar, he told me that I am an Old Soul. Someone who has packed a huge amount into their twenty five years on the planet we call Home. He told me that I am intelligent, and wise, and beautiful, and I could have cried at the realisation that here is someone who looks at me and sees not the past or the damage, or who sees me as somebody’s someone, but who seems (bizarrely, incredibly, wonderfully) to see me as entirely and completely myself.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015

The Now

I found this here
Things feel like they have gently, simply, calmly, quietly slotted into place recently, and I've found myself thinking "Oh there you are. I've been waiting for you". 

It's funny, isn't it, how that happens?

I've had so many people trying to warn me off this feeling, though. Trying to tell me to take a step back, that I don't owe anyone anything, that I should take some time for myself

That isn't what I want though.

Time is a difficult thing, though. There's just constantly too little of it, too many other pressing demands- meetings and friends and theatre trips, and Brussels and individuals and groups who need attention.

I always say that if I had a superpower, I would want to be able to control time. To travel in it, to pause it, to replay certain wonderful wonderful moments ad nauseum. That power would be incredibly useful, don't you think?

I feel like I've found a moment in my life where I'm just really very... settled? Calm? Content, even? I'm not really sure what the word to describe this feeling is, but I'm enjoying it.

I'm enjoying the evenings in tartan pyjama bottoms and an extra-large charcoal grey cashmere jumpers. I'm enjoying the nights at the NHM, dressed in a short dress and high heels, red wine in hand and the most wonderful company at my elbow. I'm enjoying the days at work, where I get to show my worth, and impress all the right people, and silence the doubters. I'm enjoying the Sunday mornings in bed with hot drinks.

If I could pause a moment, I think it would be now. 

It would allow us to enjoy each other, enjoy The Now, to drink in the moment and these feelings and the fact that this is my favourite time of year. 

But instead, we march on. Time racing past, hurling us forwards, bringing us towards Whatever It Is That Comes Next.

Winter. Trips away. More meetings, more pressures on our time. 

But we'll meet it when it comes, and until then, we'll enjoy this moment. We'll think, and we'll breathe, and we'll face whatever it coming when it arrives.