Fast then slow then fast again

I am exploring the edges of busy and not busy enough at the moment. I have returned from work to have a flurry of new projects, with lots of tight deadlines in parallel, new things to learn, and lots of new relationships to manage. I kind of like it. I’ve barely had time for existential angst at all, and for a few days there I felt incredibly on my game (is that the phrase?) – you know, ‘in flow’, where things just move from one to the other, fast, instinctively, with lots of making it up as you go along, lots of sensing and doing rather than stewing, second guessing, prevaricating. I like that. But then this busy thing can go to far – too far where the number of balls in the air suddenly doubles and you start to feel stressed because you know it can’t all get done. Or when one little thing goes wrong (hello email glitch) and then ones finely woven delicate web of linked tasks all happening beautifully becomes just a sticky tangle with dead flies in it. Or something. I also notice that the more I juggle in one realm, the less overall balance I seem to be able to maintain – like working long hours happily to get things done, but then forgetting to buy cat food late on the way home and being greeted in the morning with a distraught little black cat who thinks that dry biscuits for breakfast is the same as being abandoned, and proceeds to wail to the heavens, singing librettos of pain about it (a hangover from when he was a stray or not loved much, I think, in his early years before we met). (Oh, and he also sent a stream of vomit down the spiral staircase, through the air and onto the floor below – that was a fairly stout registration of dissatisfaction. I think he ate too quickly when I came back from the shops with a can of something flaked in something gravy this morning, relief and desperation acted out in the wolfing down of breakfast.) So I can tend lovingly to a few handfuls of deadlines or tasks, but I then tend less lovingly to the living things in my life. But this is not entirely black and white: on the up side, when busy I feel energized and want to make plans, quickly, decisively, and feel happier about seeing people. Happiness begets more happiness. Also, like my friends with kids have said – it’s amazing what you can get done in short amounts of time if you only get short amounts of time to do things – you become very efficient.

But then, as well as fast, I have started doing yoga again, and have really enjoyed deep moments of lingering slowness. I love an activity that involves little periods of lying on a mat in public, having a little rest on the floor. Just like nap-time in kindergarten, which I think I’ve always missed. I love all the movement too, all the stretch and balance and the delicious kind of achey muscles that come afterwards, the kind where you are constantly reminded that you are in a body as you move around. And, for me, a great sense of togetherness with other people but with clear boundaries, quiet, peaceful, respectful, calm – no intrusions into my space, and a shared sense of trust as we give up doubt and control and choose to defer to someone more experienced who cares about our wellbeing to lead us temporarily. I find quiet time so much more delightful for sharing it with others. I love the kind of silence that comes from people being together and choosing a thoughtful silence, it has a different timbre altogether to the pristine empty of people kind, with just your own thoughts echoing around an empty landscape. Shared silence feels very warm I think.

And, seeing as this might be the only post I get to this week, a quick update on other life details:
- Studio space is confirmed! Yep, you heard right, I finally made a decision and actually said yes, paid the bond etc. The lease is lengthy and involves getting guarantors, which feels very official and scary (I am such a baby) but I am doing it anyway. Every time I think about 4x2 metres of my own to set up with jars of brushes, inspiring images, to decorate, to use and be messy in, I smile. The space has amazingly high ceilings, white walls and good sinks, is in an industrial area with a pub nearby – everything you’d want from a converted warehouse collective studio space. I feel like I’m dreaming.

- I’m still seeing Bob the counselor. This being in therapy business is a time consuming and expensive endeavour, I am finding, and also exhausting at times. I suddenly need to consider my own actions far more objectively, and take responsibility for not only staying in touch with my family (when a lot of my coping mechanisms so far have been to not be in contact), and trying to behave differently around them, but at the same time not expecting them to do anything differently necessarily. To hold accountability and love and forgiveness and hope all in one hand can be a big job, sometimes I drop one or two, and find myself wanting to sermonize or judge, want to explain historic ills and get them to see the error of their ways and most of all just to be different to what they are.

The books I’ve been reading are interesting though, because they focus on families as living systems, and look at the connections between behaviours: this is quite useful in having a model that moves away from blame – it suggests that people don’t do things just to shit you or because they woke up wanting to be mean or thoughtless, they are behaving in certain ways because they are trying to reduce their own anxiety, even if the habitual ways of behaving no longer serve their interests well, or are vestiges from previous stressful situations they are no longer in. This approach suggests that we all get into patterns together but even one person changing their responses can change those patterns. Anyways, without wanting to regurgitate family psychology popular press at you, I think a key thing I’m realizing is that for me, I’m not ‘angry about my childhood’, but am trying to become aware of some of the no-longer useful behaviours I picked up as a result of my childhood and se if I can change those. Being able to say no to things is really difficult for me, for example, because I felt so strongly that other people’s happiness depended on me supporting them, which at the time it kind of did. It makes sense for a small child to adapt to their situation in whatever way helps them fit in to the family around them, it makes less sense to automatically continue those adaptations into adulthood. So my task is to change those habits in me.

Was that all a bit ‘Dr Phil’? Sorry.

What else?
- On saturday co-bought a basketball with a friend from work (half each, to ensure we don't forget it under our beds, because we have the added incentive to share it) and went to shoot hoops in the open courts in a busy area off the main street in our neighbourhood. Felt a bit dorky next to all the behooded and besneakered young men up the other end, but they were cool, benignly ignored us, and I like to think were secretly amazed at our uncanny ability to get the ball in the hoop, despite our casual happy go lucky beginners approach. It was so much fun, we laughed heaps and both commented later that the suspension of thought beyond 'catch', 'throw','mmm, nice sun on skin', 'catch' was refreshing. Colleague commented that physical activities are probably especiallly important for us because our work is so head based - basically we just get paid to think stuff up and then write about it - the thinking never stops, even when you're in the kitchen making tea you are trying to nut out the best way to...phrase, capture, compare, communicate, explore, isolate, benchmark... etc. and the topics are always chaging, there's always a brand new area to plunge into, new people to work with, contexts to understand...sometimes you go backwards and forward on the same idea or minutae for hours. churn churn churn go the cogs. Badly played basketball seems like the perfect counterweight, or at least one of many. Love the idea of regular Saturday morning hoop shooting before brekky in a cosy café.

Tho am a little worried that I am slowly morphing into an early twenties hip hop wanna be – note the strong love of hanging in the hood with my homies, blogging, strange obsession with street art, including the very humble and child drawn which I am photographing here and in vietnam, stenciling tshirts with funny little monsters on them, shooting hoops, playing soccer, making little art projects with my friends, starting work on a zine – seriously I think I’ve gone back to being a teenager, only a happier teenager, with less love of alternative metal or gothica and more room for folk, and better skin …

That was slow - aaah - written with cofffee and cat. Must go be fast again.