Spooky moment this morning when I found myself chatting to my Rusty Duck blogging pal, Jessica, and she mentioned that she’d had a ‘First Day of the Rest of Your Life’ feeling this morning, and I said so had I! Weird, eh? But I have put my feeling down to the fact it is my birthday tomorrow and I shall be...
I feel oddly positive about the imminence of this birthday, this start of my 55th year. I don’t know why, but it feels important somehow, a gateway to something new. Just a weird and inexplicable feeling which, right now, I can’t pin down but one I shall embrace and ride with because it seems the right thing to do.
The urge to record this next year in a dedicated diary is very strong. Now, this could be an excuse for me to go and buy a lovely new notebook, because I love a new notebook, don’t you? I could just as easily record it, warts and all, on a new blog, that will ride alongside ‘Oh, My Days.’ But I don’t know if I can be that brave, because (and this might surprise you!) I am reasonably selective about what I write here, whereas my diaries of the past have been for my eyes only. Therapy if you like. Getting ‘stuff’ out of my brain and onto paper so I don’t stew, or so I can work through problems, issues and confusions for myself rather than bothering anyone else with them. I am a firm believer in writing as a therapy. It works. It really does. You have to be brave, honest and have the ability to switch off your internal censorship, and if you can do this, you have a powerful tool at your disposal.
Anyway, I’ve just been into the studio to root through my stash of notebooks to find one I haven’t already started for other writing purposes, or that I’ve used then removed pages and therefore look a bit on the tatty side. I have some that I’ve put aside for my counselling course and besides, they don’t feel ‘right’ to use for anything other than the reason I bought them. A notebook has to feel ‘right’ for its purpose. It really does. But I don’t know the purpose of this notebook for my 55th year, because I can’t explain this ‘First Day of the Rest of Your Life’ feeling. Does the notebook need to be small enough for me to carry with me everywhere? Or can I go down the scrapbook route, something big and chunky that will cope with additions in the form of mementoes, for example? Will I write in it every day, or every week, or just when the fancy takes me? Will it take me on a journey to achieving something BIG, like training for and running a marathon? That’s a joke, by the way. That’s never going to be on my List of Big Things To Do in Life. Running? Pah! Only for emergencies, like being chased by an angry rhino.
As my pal, Jessica, said when we were chatting away, today seems still and quiet. It feels like Time is holding its breath, waiting for some penny to drop, some flash of epiphany to happen, some wish to be made. I think I shall light a candle and sit somewhere quiet to contemplate this feeling and decide what I am to do. Doing nothing is not an option. I am 54 tomorrow. Time is moving on. Life needs living. Some change is imminent.
I am listening to my world today, for clues and signs that will expand on this feeling, that will help me recognise what I am to do, where I am to go. This all sounds a bit weird, I guess. But I am looking forward to the quietness of this afternoon and what it will reveal.
Wishing you all a peaceful and calm day, too. x
I feel oddly positive about the imminence of this birthday, this start of my 55th year. I don’t know why, but it feels important somehow, a gateway to something new. Just a weird and inexplicable feeling which, right now, I can’t pin down but one I shall embrace and ride with because it seems the right thing to do.
The urge to record this next year in a dedicated diary is very strong. Now, this could be an excuse for me to go and buy a lovely new notebook, because I love a new notebook, don’t you? I could just as easily record it, warts and all, on a new blog, that will ride alongside ‘Oh, My Days.’ But I don’t know if I can be that brave, because (and this might surprise you!) I am reasonably selective about what I write here, whereas my diaries of the past have been for my eyes only. Therapy if you like. Getting ‘stuff’ out of my brain and onto paper so I don’t stew, or so I can work through problems, issues and confusions for myself rather than bothering anyone else with them. I am a firm believer in writing as a therapy. It works. It really does. You have to be brave, honest and have the ability to switch off your internal censorship, and if you can do this, you have a powerful tool at your disposal.
Anyway, I’ve just been into the studio to root through my stash of notebooks to find one I haven’t already started for other writing purposes, or that I’ve used then removed pages and therefore look a bit on the tatty side. I have some that I’ve put aside for my counselling course and besides, they don’t feel ‘right’ to use for anything other than the reason I bought them. A notebook has to feel ‘right’ for its purpose. It really does. But I don’t know the purpose of this notebook for my 55th year, because I can’t explain this ‘First Day of the Rest of Your Life’ feeling. Does the notebook need to be small enough for me to carry with me everywhere? Or can I go down the scrapbook route, something big and chunky that will cope with additions in the form of mementoes, for example? Will I write in it every day, or every week, or just when the fancy takes me? Will it take me on a journey to achieving something BIG, like training for and running a marathon? That’s a joke, by the way. That’s never going to be on my List of Big Things To Do in Life. Running? Pah! Only for emergencies, like being chased by an angry rhino.
As my pal, Jessica, said when we were chatting away, today seems still and quiet. It feels like Time is holding its breath, waiting for some penny to drop, some flash of epiphany to happen, some wish to be made. I think I shall light a candle and sit somewhere quiet to contemplate this feeling and decide what I am to do. Doing nothing is not an option. I am 54 tomorrow. Time is moving on. Life needs living. Some change is imminent.
I am listening to my world today, for clues and signs that will expand on this feeling, that will help me recognise what I am to do, where I am to go. This all sounds a bit weird, I guess. But I am looking forward to the quietness of this afternoon and what it will reveal.
Wishing you all a peaceful and calm day, too. x
Comments
KJ
An interesting thought - I'm not sure I have ever had a 'rest-of-your-life feeling'. Not even (or perhaps especially not) when I gave up full time work. It was more of a 'yikes, what have I done, will I starve; ooh isn't it nice not to have to get up and get on a train' feeling.
You've made some big decisions and big changes over the past few years and most of them seem to have worked well, so I'd say trust your instincts and go with it. I look forward to reading about what happens next. And I completely agree about needing the right notebook for the task. One can't have too many notebooks. Have a lovely day!
Olly
Thanks Olly, oh astral twin of mine! Hope you had a good birthday, too. One of my presents was a beautiful Liberty print pocket notebook, I don’t want to spoil it by writing in it!
Thank you, Vera. I hope you are well?