I am super blind! Kind of: if.the.plane.crashed.i’d.be.one.of.the.first.ones.eaten blind.
I wear contacts all the time, partly because I don’t like wearing glasses that much but mostly because I don’t like the glasses I have. I know that wearing contacts all the time is bad for your eyes so every time I think about the fact that I do, I feel a pang of guilt and then berate myself and wish I had glasses I like. But then I never do anything about it. So the whole thing continues. D-U-M-B!
I reckon these types of toleration can really have a negative impact. It might be just a small thing but if you think about it often enough and if it is compounded by other small tolerations, then your energy for stuff that really does matter ends up being compromised. [Now I have to say my friends, I have no research to support this, it just feels like that's what happens with me].
So a few weeks ago, I finally got my act together and decided to do something about it. I went to a super cool shop right near my office and picked me out a pair of super cool frames. The lady who owned the shop was terrific and helped me and remembered my name and everything [I love great customer service!] and I felt great about the whole experience. And even better, I picked up my new glasses a few days ago and even though I haven’t worn them out of the house, I feel a huge relief, knowing that I can remove a big something from that list.of.things.i.never.get.around.to.doing.and.feel.terrible.about.
You know how going on holiday is a good opportunity to assess the way you’re living? [It gives you some space and perspective and allows you the chance to gauge how you're feeling about coming home to your everyday life...]
Going on maternity leave is sort of the same. I am in my final weeks at work and I find myself feeling sad about leaving. Ok, so maybe not so sad about having a break from admin and IT stuff [blegh] but definitely sad about not seeing clients.
When I started this business I had a really clear idea in my head of who I wanted to work with and one of the things I love most about what I have created is that my ideal client base has been realised. Most days when I leave my office I feel uplifted by the people I have been speaking to [even if we have been discussing heavy stuff] and more often than not I have learnt something valuable and feel inspired too [such a privilege].
Sometimes I think back on my previous in.the.city job. You know, the one I hated, where I would count the minutes until coffee time and lunch time and home time. The one where I really liked a few people but felt completely separate from the others. That job where I felt like sitting at my beige work station was slowly turning me beige from the inside out, as though the innocuous furniture was sucking my soul right out of me.
I think about how terrified I was to leave and how grateful I am that I did. I think about what my life would have looked like if I’d stayed but that sort of scares me so I stop thinking about it.
I am thrilled to be taking a break to meet this new little person but I am also super happy [and I think maybe, a bit relieved?] that I will be looking forward to coming back to work too.
So, as lovely readers of this blog would know, I am mad for a little bit of present.giving. Especially when the gift is for someone I really love and I have had a chance to get it just right and finish it off with some brown paper and some ribbon. [oooh!]
I know you’re meant to say that you love present.giving even more than present receiving and all that. But to tell the truth, I also really, really love receiving packages. Especially ones from my favourite people, with hand written cards. [delicious] Although there is also a part of me that gets nervous with gift.receiving. [what if it's not a great fit or I really actually think it's gross and then how will I respond because I hate being dishonest but I don't want to hurt their feelings or anything horrible like that. eep!]
But then how brilliant is it when you receive a gift and it is fantastically perfect and sweet and beautiful and also [somehow?] manages to make you laugh out loud too?
My doorbell rang a few nights ago.
It was about 6pm and my home was deep in the middle of before.bed.chaos: discarded muddy clothes, a little person dripping wet from her bath, tired grumbles, books and toys everywhere, me wearing some weird leggings pulled from my bottom draw and my hair a crazy top.knot.mess. It was the epitome of all the stuff I love about family life (and of all the stuff that simultaneously drives me bonkers). It was super glamorous, naturally.
So anyway, the doorbell rang. Just as I was lifting my little bundle of just.washed.crankiness onto her change table. For a split second I considered ignoring it but then figured that her wailing and my shhhhhusshing might give the no-one.home game away. So we lunged at the door and yanked it open. A super polite man was standing there, smiling. He took one look at me (um, is that a bird in her hair??) and apologised for interrupting.
After one quick glance, I automatically assumed that he was gong to launch into selling me something or trying to sign me up for a deal or a donation so I hurrrumphed and turned on my harried.so.please.make.this.quick face.
But then he very gently explained: I just saw that you had left your car lights on in the driveway and I worried that your battery would go flat. I thought I would quickly drop by to let you know.
oh! I thanked him and told him that I appreciated his kindness. And then I closed the door, my brain burning with shame. Devastated that I had made a negative assumption when he was going out of his way to just be kind.
Such a reminder: to check my assumptions, constantly.