Indomitable

It was turning into Budleigh Salterton all over again.

My mother took me for a weekend when I was twelve. It rained the entire time; the sea was rough; the wind buffeted and forced us to squint as we struggled along the coastal path. I couldn't get near the water. It was supposed to be special, but I only remember the distance between the experience and the ideal.

Now here I was on a Sunday afternoon on the north Devon coast, eyes straining against an unforgiving gale, hair in my face defiant of a dozen hairpins, alone and trying not to fall over. Inappropriately dressed in skirt and heeled boots, laughing grimly at my absurd romantic notion that a day at the seaside would reinvigorate me somehow.

I feel small by the sea. It has always brought me a calm and grounding sense of place - not insignificance, but something like reverence. In the salt air and drowned out by the constant grumbling roar of Atlantic waves, I am centred, as if it knows me and I know it and the roles we play.

But not today. Today it isn't loud enough; today I cannot lose my petty unease, my navel-gazing. I hunker down in view of sand and sea and pebbles, soft grey boulders reaching into the mist and ringed in white, and I am miserable somehow. My own vitality is not replenished by the life around me, not as I expected and hoped.

 

Then of course I realise that my problem is bigger than the sea, to me - it's a problem of perspective. The ocean is no sticking plaster to the troubled soul. It demands nothing of me and therefore I do not give. I am used to feeling put-upon, in some way like I have to yield and that is how I reach a remedy. Without the demand for me to give myself up, I remain passive.

I now know what it is that I am here for - I want to be obliterated. To fight is to tire, but to surrender is to rest. I have come to the sea to surrender, but she won't accept my terms; I have no choice but to keep fighting, and I'm tired.

The cold, steel-blue waves; the soft green land; the milky pebbles and the unrelentingly grey skies, so vast and yet my spirit is indomitable. And do I want to be indomitable? Today, it seems I do not have a choice. And as I fight my way up the harsh incline of the pebble ridge I remember - what do I remember?

I remember that when I fight, I conquer and I laugh.

BIG

BIG

I am the big one.
The big sister.
The tallest.
The towerer-over, still insisting on wearing heels.
The one you tell to sit down
So you don't feel intimidated.

I am the big one.
Big hips.
Jeans-filling.
Swaying, walking, dancing.
The one you can't lend your dress
Because I'll stretch it.

I am the big one.
Big thighs.
Long legs.
Can't fold elegantly into the back of the car,
The one that makes you budge up on the sofa.

I am the big one.
Big ideas.
Talking, laughing, singing.
Asking questions, wanting to know.
The one you think might be more chat than substance.

I am the big one.
Big dreams.
Ambitious.
Up at night writing.
The one who may be better at the theory than the practice.

Big.
I always have been.
I don't mind it.
I don't mind taking up space,
Physical, mental, philosophical.
I don't want to diminish.
I don't want to cower.
I have no plans to apologise.
I have no plans to stop.
This is what I was made to be -
Big.

That's Not You

A while ago I wrote a post under the title 'The Real Me', in which I posited that I wanted to lead what I guess I would term a more authentic or honest life. I also discussed how easy it is to even subconsciously create a public image/personality, and how we structure this to protect ourselves or project an ideal of what we want to be.

Further to that, something I've been thinking about lately is a phrase I've had thrown at me at various points in life, and have definitely heard levelled at others around me: 'that's not you'. From a throwaway comment in the fitting rooms to a statement of surprise in response to an outburst, it's an immediate contradiction that often comes from those closest to us, if it comes at all.

I distinctly remember a number of occasions upon which this little phrase, or words to that effect, caused me to question myself or to feel uncertain. A few times it was wardrobe-related, as inevitably teenage self-expression led to some unusual outfit choices. I would swan into the room in something bright or fitted only to be greeted with a quizzical look and a 'hmmm... that's just not you', quickly followed by me sloping off deflated to get changed. Chances are the people in question felt they were doing me a favour by preventing me from being ridiculous, but I always felt like I had been denied a moment of bravery, and I needed to fit back into whatever mould 'me' was actually supposed to take. As I got older I learned that women used 'that's not you' as code for a lot of things - when they really meant, 'that's not flattering'; 'that's not appropriate'; 'that's too outlandish', they would couch their judgements in the softer tones of 'I don't know, it's just not you, you know?'. I worked in a women's fashion store for two years on and off while I was a student and I saw it so many times, always with the same look of disappointment on the face of the woman in question. Now I'm not saying that it wasn't well-meant or indeed helpful at times, but the primary thing it taught me was, your body doesn't fit, and you can't wear this or this because of it. And if my body didn't fit, then what else about me was in error? How else was I expressing 'me' incorrectly?

'That's not you' isn't just a body-related phenomenon. I was probably more affected by a letter I received just before I got married, from an old friend with whom I had fallen out of touch. They wrote to me out of the blue and I can't recall the full content, but what cut me deeply was this little sentence: 'you're not really that sophisticated, are you?'. I had no idea what they meant. Was I pretending to be sophisticated? Was I coming off as acting out my life, rather than actually living it? I didn't understand. I had no concept of pretence in the way I carried myself at that time; I had developed more confidence and made some different friends, but I hadn't abandoned old friends or principles. Here was this person whom I had known so well and trusted for so long, back in my life after a hiatus in which clearly we had both changed, and their first thought was basically to say to me: 'that's not you.' I didn't get it and I certainly didn't know how to turn around and say, 'actually, yes it is.'

Who decides what is or isn't us? What defines it? Those who know us best ought to be able to tell what is 'normal' for us; when something abnormal happens, the person's behaviour is often described as 'out of character' - it's not a recognisable part of their usual modus operandi. It's been helpful for me at times to be gently contradicted when I've been getting carried away with some behaviour that's actually destructive for me or for those I care about. But on the day-to-day, is there no room for movement, for change? For those of us who sometimes feel like we have to justify or explain any new development in ourselves, it can be exhausting and frankly not always feel worthwhile.

I therefore find myself asking, why do these things get said? It could be just that people find it hard to countenance the new in contrast to the familiar, and that projects itself onto their friends and family as well as their surroundings. Personally I think it's a deeper issue, and it has to do with how we define self in the modern world. In this society we are increasingly free to make wider choices, and the emphasis is so much more on the individual than on community that our understanding of how we function together and inter-relate is constantly tested. I often find myself unsure whether it's right in a given situation to pursue my own good or subdue it for the good of someone else or of a group, when historically a community mindset was the only way civilisations grew and survived. Is it any wonder that when self can be so fluid and so many decisions justified that in the past would have been considered self-indulgent, we face a challenge to who we are? Because it's often easier and clearer to be defined by our differences than by more complex qualities, but those differences can make people uncomfortable.

For me, I know I'm still finding out who I am. It's probably a life-long journey. Some aspects will always be the same and others will change, and I'll do my best to find a balance and hold to the life principles I believe to be important. But when the 'that's not you' challenge gets thrown up and I feel threatened, how do I counter it? Hopefully, with enough grace to keep my friends but enough confidence to keep my individuality. 

All the Things I Thought I Would Have Done

A couple of months ago I made a list of 25 things I wanted to achieve before I turned 27. Perhaps unsurprisingly, considering I am definitely a bite-off-more-than-you-can-chew kind of person, I didn't succeed in getting through them all! There were some extenuating circumstances, but still, I should probably be disappointed with myself, right? I mean what kind of person sets goals and then just completely fails to reach them? Oh wait, that would be me.

The trouble with getting older/growing up, for me anyway, is that I'm still trying to figure out that boundary between flexibility and self-discipline. I know I'm capable of doing a lot, but somehow I still manage to scrape in at the last minute, and it's not a recent development. I was always the last to finish my drawings in art class, taking them home to be completed most of the time; I vividly recall sewing buttons for a craft competition (homeschooler alert!) the night it was due to be handed in for judging, despite having had two months to work on it. My essays were always in on time at uni, but I was forever behind with my reading, cramming my brain full on the train on the way back into Oxford for tutorials. It's like I have all these ideas and no clue how to manage my time around them, or allow for the inevitable interruptions, also known as Life Happening. I make schedules and plans and I can organise to a minute detail; I can pull off a huge party, or food for thirty people in a morning, or a corporate seminar. But when it comes to personal life goals, I always seem to be behind. And what is this self-imposed timetable I am trying to keep up with?

My 27th birthday was last Saturday, the 6th of June. I was discussing this blog post with the husband who cheekily pointed out that it was funny I would be writing about growing up when I'd had a Neverland-themed birthday party, i.e. a celebration based around a boy who never grows up. I hadn't really thought of it that way - I just wanted a pirate ship and bonfire and to be a mermaid, and clearly don't see those why those things should be exclusively for children! - but I had to acknowledge a degree of incidental irony. There I was, swanning around in an elaborate homemade costume and blue wig, garden littered with little bamboo-framed tepees and plastic bows and arrows and glass jars with candles in them, my own personal Neverland - and my list ignored, my goals unreached, and as yet no job to go to the following Monday.

It sounds so irresponsible, so careless when I read it back. I like to think those are terms most people I know would not apply to me. But sometimes you can't control all the cards you're dealt, or you don't know how to play them, or quite simply you get it wrong, and the best you can do is have a few parties along the way while you're figuring it out. It doesn't mean I'm not going to try to improve myself, or hit some of those targets, even if they're late. But at the same time, I've realised there's a lot we hold onto that may not be good for us, it just seemed like a good idea at the time. And that's where I was at when I wrote this.

All the things I thought I would have done
Live in a box
Which I take out and browse sometimes.
It's stored where no one else can find it
Although I let a few close friends have a peek
Once in a while.

Regret sits proudly in one corner,
Relief in another;
Ambivalence and forgetfulness
Can be found at the bottom
If I rummage.

There's a lot of junk
But some things I'm not ready to throw away yet.
It's difficult to detach ambition from sentiment
As they have become tangled over the years,
Mainly with my childhood memorabilia.

Notes from adults who no longer feature in my life,
Opinions lettered in bold ink,
Awaiting trial.
Bright-coloured thoughts wrapped around University papers
And daydreams hurriedly scrawled
In endless notebooks,
None of them full from cover to cover.

I think I keep the box because
I don't know whether I've finished with it.
Whether something I can work with
Will surface from amidst the dross.
Whether my vain hopes
Are extinguished sufficiently
For me to move on,
Find new ones. 

The fact is, I've spent the last few years sifting through those hopes, opinions, daydreams, plans. And I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one who finds themselves looking backwards almost as much as they look forwards, because sometimes it's really hard to tell what's worth holding onto and what isn't.The one thing I am set on is finding a way to prioritise the goals I definitely know are important, because those are the ones I don't want to fail on. As for the rest, I may have to wait and see.

The Fear

For a while I have wanted to post about something very personal, something which makes me feel vulnerable. I've considered backing out, but my blog is about honesty and is supposed to be a place for me to say what I really think and feel, to discuss things I think need to be said. I hope it encourages others to do the same, so sometimes I have to be brave. And that's why I've decided to write about the fear and doubt I experience in life, and how I (try to) handle it.

Every day is a battle of wills. Each morning when I wake up there's a little voice in the back of my mind saying, 'why bother?' - telling me, 'nothing will happen today. Nothing valuable will come of this. You're not cut out for it, you can't handle it; you never were good enough, clever enough, strong enough, liked enough.' On lots of days I don't even hear the voice, or it's whispering faintly and is silent by the time I get to the shower. Other mornings I am not so fortunate, and it's the loudest thing in my head, making me want to retreat back under the covers.

Because no matter how certain I am of my value and abilities the majority of the time, in those vulnerable moments where my subconscious seems to rule me, I can really be brought down. Especially if I am foolish enough to feed those insecurities, to interpret the success of others as my own failure.

So I have two choices - I can succumb, or I can fight. I can lie there feeling miserable and accept these thoughts of my insignificance and incompetence, or I can get up and prove them wrong. Not with unfounded bravado but steadily, reminding myself that other people's lives are not the measure by which I should be judging my own.

Everyone has a different path and different battles. Some things take longer to achieve, but I choose to focus on the process almost more than the end-goal, knowing I can learn from every step, every challenge. When my heart and head are so full and I'm never done with all the things I want to create and see and explore and give, and I'm never done with loving, then I know there's enough in there that's positive and worth fighting to hold onto. I also know for certain that I don't have to do it alone, and that gives me courage - the knowledge that wonderful people in my life will remind me of what I can do more than of what I can't.

Overall I'm reminded that none of us is designed to function completely solo. Humanity is meant to create these support networks of those we love and trust - we are supposed to uphold and promote one another, and while that doesn't shut out all fear or anxiety or pressure, it makes it easier to handle. Beyond that, I also know I need to address my mindset and what feeds it, which is a whole other challenge. It's one I plan to intentionally pursue in the coming months, and I hope if you ever feel this way too, that you will as well.

Mantra

Lately I've been thinking about mantra. It's on the long list of things on which I can't claim to be an expert... Honestly I've been in two minds about whether to write anything on this subject at all, because my first draft really was more like an essay (seriously, it even had references). But then I remembered this is a blog and not an academic exercise, and the whole point is that I write about things that actually mean something to me, and this does. So here goes.

My very basic understanding is that mantra is the use of words and phrases which are supposed to have sacred meaning or power; to aid concentration; to psychologically influence. Those who use it in a spiritual sense believe it can create an awareness which connects us to our inner self, although there seems to be some argument as to whether this is down to the specific words used or simply the thoughts behind them, but either way there is a very natural association with the practice of meditation.

I hadn't considered myself the meditating kind, but really anyone who has stopped to contemplate the beauty of life and nature and has found some peace through that contemplation - isn't that exactly what we were doing, in one way or another? It's just not that not everyone has a spiritual context for it.

I was recently in the Lake District and until I climbed some of those hills, until I looked out upon the vast rugged terrain and breathed in the fresh sea air, I had forgotten. I had forgotten how much I needed these moments of elation, this quiet but overwhelming glory. To find that actually, for someone so naturally verbose, I was out of words. For once I didn't actually want to describe, to quantify what was in front of me; I just wanted to take it in. I wanted to be part of it.

I think that mantra in the modern age for those of us without the cultural-historical references of its history has become equivalent to lifestyle wisdom, a proverb or a catchphrase. From 'lean in' to 'yes we can', a few well-intended words can easily become trite when too often used or without sufficient thought to their meaning - YOLO is a pretty classic example. You do only live once as far as science and most streams of philosophy go, but somewhere between being the modern-day 'carpe diem' and the life-endangering disasters that have filled up YouTube, clearly something was lost in translation. For this reason I have been trepidatious, bordering on cynical when it comes to the concept of mantra, because not only am I not sold on the spiritual element of it, but I feel like even if that does hold water, it's been hyped up and hijacked by diet programmes and politicians, and I just don't have time for words that have no meaning.

The thing is, I do believe that words have power. We've all heard 'the pen is mightier than the sword', and for those who would argue the toss think of how the philosophies which inspired the sword (i.e. all conflict) were disseminated: in writing, by word of mouth, through popular song and story. History, literature and religion are full of discussions of the influence words can have, for good or bad; it makes sense that humanity naturally accumulates these phrases, whatever we choose to call them, to help us make sense of our world and delineate our outlook on it. I suppose I've always been drawn to language because of the power of it, the way it can draw us from ourselves, can break apart or solidify our thoughts, feelings, decisions. In the same way those Lake District views stopped and centred me, the right words can bring to the surface the strength and resolve I need to tackle a challenge, while the wrong ones can reinforce negative patterns that make me self-destructive.

The important thing to remember is that we make the decision as to which words we allow to affect us; we choose what we accept as truth. Plenty of what we take in is subconscious and even instilled in childhood, so as an adult I am finding myself constantly in need of re-conditioning, as I become aware of what I've accepted that I shouldn't, or what I've misinterpreted. The key to this re-conditioning is awareness - I can't change something I don't recognise is wrong. And then of course there is the uncomfortable fact that actually, I probably can't change it by myself. Miss independent needs some help.

This is where my personal concept of mantra comes in, because I don't believe that I can simply be emptied of the negative. We fill ourselves up with whatever is around us; naturally like sponges we absorb from the people we know and the life we live and what we hear and watch and read. It's a deliberate and conscious effort therefore to pick and choose what to hold onto, but I know I need to if I'm going to become a better person, if I'm going to succeed at anything. So I look for what inspires and positively challenges me, and what I think is true, and I hold onto that - I repeat it, I have it on my phone or on my wall. I teach myself what I need to know, my mantra, and I try to live these. More posts to follow on what they are...

25 Before 27

I have entirely and unashamedly stolen the premise of this post from my friend Sarah - you can find her blog, Not Found, at 52weeksof.blogspot.co.uk - as it ties in nicely with my recent 'Oh No She Didn't' post where I confessed to terrible procrastination and laziness. In light of how this year is already running away with me, I have taken my sad little 2013 list and added to it, creating:

25 Before 27 - 25 things to do before my 27th birthday last updated 20th April

I am 27 on the 6th of June. So yeah, I haven't given myself that much time...

Some of these things are already in progress and others have yet to be started, so I will try to update the post every so often to indicate how I'm doing. Feel free to chivvy me along, or join me for any enterprise that takes your fancy!

1. Take a Pilates class
Already doing this, most Saturday mornings. I get the giggles during some moves and I'm pretty sure the teacher thinks I'm a weirdo as a result. 

2. Hang the paintings in my house
One of them is up! Five or so to go...

3. Finish knitting my scarf
Some progress, it's over halfway now!

4. Finish knitting Stan's jumper
I got too scared to carry on with this when I dug it out and realised I couldn't remember all the pattern alterations I had made. But there are only the sleeves and sewing together to go - what could possible go wrong? - LOTS. LOTS COULD GO WRONG. STILL TOO SCARED.

5. Lose a stone
Now 6lb down :)

6. Run 5k
Yeah this might be the trickiest. I managed 4k about two months ago and it nearly killed me. Latest run was 2k with several stops :( still a run is better than nothing.

7. Learn to make cheesecake

8. Finish my children's story
I started this when I was at University so it's been a long time coming!

9. Party with my sisters

10. Send six letters (or more)
I've sent two!

11. Become Mac-literate
My sister has volunteered on this one, just need to book a session.

12. Learn to use ExCel properly
Still winging it and my toolbars keep screwing around :(

13. Take or at least book a marketing class

14. Mend at least three broken items of clothing

15. Get my wedding ring mended or replaced
Even my grandma is onto me about this so I am booking a date with the husband to go choose one.

16. Plant flowers
DONE! Senetti, lavender and sweet peas.

17. Enter a writing competition

18. Complete and send my modeling portfolio
Had a shoot, still waiting on the photos.

19. Book my MA graduation

20. Get a good magazine subscription like a grown-up
Suggestions welcome!

21. Have another tennis lesson with Stan
DONE! I have improved, apparently. And nobody cried which is a bonus.

22. Watch Stan play a match

23. Finish reading six books
I've got three on the go at once, it's confusing. And people keep lending me more.

24. Re-connect with my great-grandmothers
Both are over ninety and wonderful women, full of love and stories - I really should have made more of an effort in the last few years to have them as part of my life.

25. Make something creative for my home
I have no idea what, at the moment. I can paint, sort-of, and I can sew, sort-of, and I can glue things. Wish me luck... 

I do actually need to get myself into gear if this is going to be realistic, but I know I do better with targets than without them, so as long as I'm not punishing myself over anything that is genuinely not possible, it should be fine.

Do you have any goals set at the moment?