It’s confession time.
And this week there’s no prompt, so I’m going to talk a little about chaos and control.
As a Pisces I escape into chaos- and other things…like daydreams, too much wine, and food that I know doesn’t suit my system.
Routine, as much as I rebel against it, is what keeps me on the straight and narrow.
When I’m in routine, I plan our meals, plan my exercise, plan my work commitments (as loose as they are)- I get things done.
Now sure, I know that no week is ever perfect- there are always things that get in the way- life gets in the way. As John Lennon sang, life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans. The deal therefore, is somehow to make it all work while you live life.
Miss 15 has been on school holidays for the last 3 weeks.
We spent the first week in Melbourne, faffed around with local day trips and chores the second, and painted the third.
My routine, such as it is, went out the window.
I’ve hardly set foot in the gym over the last month.
My eating has been crapola since I chose to jump off the wagon before we went to Thailand, my jeans are again threatening internal organs, and all my nasty tummy symptoms are back.
I say that now she is back at school I can settle back into normality, but seriously, there is no such thing as normality- and I’d be bored stupid if there was.
The thing is, I need to somehow work a version of normality into the chaos. I need both, you see. The chaos is what feeds my creativity, the routine is what I need to harness that creativity and make it work for me.
I can’t survive without some chaos, yet I need the boundaries of the other.
It makes a strange sort of sense.
All health concerns aside, what I’m about to say next is the real confession for today…
I’ve been to 2 funerals in the last few months- both for women not much older than me, both leaving behind families, both women struck down by cancer way too early.
In both ceremonies, the family showed a slide show. They were images of love and health and happiness and fun and adventure to a soundtrack of their all too short lives.
And this is the confession bit- in all the amazing places we go to, and great things we do, there are very few photos of me doing it. There are even fewer photos of me looking anything other than overweight. I have the soundtrack- and I’ll be listening out for the congregation singing along with the chorus to My Way, the Robbie Williams version- but there are no pictures.
I have a tenuous relationship with reality, so am convinced that there’ll be a cure for death and old age by the time I get there, but this year I’ve been brought up hard against the idea of my own mortality.
My point? I can’t continue to indulge my love of chaos and indulgence without consequences- a life without boundaries and rules is not safe…as my current state of health would testify to.
I’m 46, and I still think and act (in many ways) like an irresponsible teenager.
It’s time to grow up.
What I do know is that somehow I have to find a way to balance the chaos and control. It’s why I’ve used the koru to illustrate this post- it’s about evolution and growth.
I now know that boundaries only suit me when they are a little hazy around the edges, when my routine has room within it to move. To put it in astrological terms, I need my tank to be large enough to swim freely within it.
So, operation tummy fix part 2 is underway…and July is the new January…with weekends off for good behaviour.
Linking up with My Home Truths…