The hardest things

Here we go - blog as earnest confessional. I had a hard phone call tonight that leaves me feeling crap, like a bad person. It was a hard phone call because it involved me making and articulating a decision - one that someone else would have preferred I didn't make, one that flies in the face of convention and reason, and one with the potential to hurt the feelings of the person involved. Yes, it actually involved being assertive - gasp, eek - and asserting my wishes even though they didn't coincide with the other person's. You may be thinking 'what?? the erudite writer of this shiny pretty blog finding it hard to rustle up words in favour of her own convictions- surely not?' (or you may be thinking 'yeah whatever, get on with it'). Well, in any case, yes, I do find it hard to do, very hard, potentially the hardest. I am good at piping up with opinions on things, or arguing theoretical cases beligerantly, but particularly crap at respecting my own wishes and asking for them to be considered (oh, all except the petty ones like 'hey love could you put the kettle on' 'don't forget to put your plate on the sink' or 'er um would you feed my cat while I'm away'...).

I have been known to go on dates with people because I have valued their desire to do it more than my desire not to. In year 12 I went to someone's formal who just because they wanted me too and I thought it was the kind thing to do. I have kissed people just because I didn't know how not to. I have been talked out of dumping people and resumed relationships as a result, only to later wonder 'what happened there? I still want this to be over!' This is dangerous territory. This is not something to be proud of, this is some kind of arrested development in the 2 year old 'saying no' stage. I realise this.

Just last week this came up in conversation with a psychology post-grad friend of mine and Aunty B. I mentioned to them that my workplace (specifically my supervisor's supervisor) had mentioned that they were very happy with my work to date, delighted to have me on board and very open to me working a 4 day week, with one of those days at home, as per what I had asked for when I accepted the role. 'Yippee' you would think. 'Yahoo! Give me the paperwork to sign, pass me the spunky work laptop, dust off the house slippers, let me write the FYI email to my co-workers..!!'? But no. As I explained to my friend over a cup of tea, I was a bit worried about what my co-workers might think, about the fact that I could seem like one of those flaky, hard to contact, never in the office types. And so I was still thinking about whether to do it, how to do it, if I will do it. My cafe pals, rather understandably I realise, looked at me as if I'd just suggested that I might plant a permaculture garden on my head and declare myself a nation state. wacky. Wacky to turn down a great offer, one that would make my life significantly more enjoyable, that would increase my ability to do all the things in life I value most by giving me more time, just because of what I project that a handful of people may on occasion think of me for a fleeting second while they wait at the photocopier. How much of my own inconvenience will I accept to save someone else from inconvenience? The exchange rate is looking pretty shite at the moment; I have clearly devalued my own currency.*

So, with that as context and overall theme to tonights' confessional, back to said phone call...

Basicallly I turned down an offer to live with soneone right in the heart of the city in a lovely little house, pay cheaper rent than where I am, walk to work, and have many more hours up my sleeve. It is a great idea. It looks great on paper. The place is cute and funky, the potential housemate warm and professional, with good politics. She is reasonable and obliging. We could have eaten meals together, could have swapped funky frocks and giggled about bad dates, could have walked up to galleries together on days off and read the newspaper conspiratorily over tea on a saturday morning. I told you it sounded good. But, (but, but, but) my heart said no. It said no to living in a part of the world where people don't smile at each other, where there are more vertical lines than horizontal, where I know no-one, it said no to having a miniature bedroom not big enough for my clothes let alone a writing desk, it said no to having a study which is actually a walkway and it even said no to sharing with someone - even someone funky and friendly and nice.

My heart stubbornly refused to accept 'easy' as the ultimate guiding value for my life. My heart reminded me that having space and time for reflection is a new found luxury which I am not ready to hand back, and that I became a cranky pants housemate from hell last time I was walled up in small spaces and full time work with no room to dream quietly in my own space. It reminded me that I am single for a reason, and that right now I don't want to be someone's full-time constant companion and domestic partner (of any variety). It reminded me that in Malaysia the one thing I missed more than anything (yes even more than environmental legislation which is effective, or due process in legal systems, or political debate, or pubs..) was having time alone (yes it seems I am officially outing myself as an introvert here - for those to whom it was not screamingly obvious anyway). Space was limited, but was not the main issue, it was just never having a space to be just in my own company. And to me this is analogous to freedom, and just as important as my physical and political freedom (yeah, I know, easy to say when I have those)- because this represents my freedom to wonder, to feel and to think. To be joyful in the midst of others who might not be (you can sing!), to be despairing when it is not social acceptable to be so (you can cry!), to think up ideas (you can write!), to feel peaceful in the midst of others complaining or stressing (you can snooze peacefully in the sun! you can have quiet!), and to be unpredictable, creative, messy. Which is not to say that one, or even I, can't be those things with other people, I am, I enjoy spending time with people, I like my friends, it's just that without periodic peaceful time alone I feel scattered and stretched between other people's needs of me and their imaginings of who I am and how I should be spending my time. So... 'computer says no' - I said no to the the inner city sharehouse and yes to staying here a bit longer, with my long stupid walk to the station, my long commute, and my view of tress and cockies out the window.

And it was really hard because she sounded let down, and rejected and couldn't understand why I would keep commuting 5 hours aday rather than live with her, and it felt like a break up, but one you have before you were ever really going out, and I almost backed down and agreed to move in because it did sound silly when I heard myself saying it, but I didn't back down and I said "NO" (thankyou).

* Yeah ok, so seem to be bad at saying yes, as well as bad at saying no. Sheesh.

NB If anyone is keen on a room in the inner city that is rather nice but little, let me know!