...Living the imperfect life....
Stay IN: and Strawberry Sours'll be £50 a pop....get OUT and the duty'll be the killer....more referendum rumours on the podcast......
and, as the pic suggests; pet. When the cat goes; (I have the Blue Cross helpline number in front of me now; she's fine at the minute), I'm getting a THREE legged greyhound. She's in a dog's home near me. Her beauty pageant days may be over, but she'll be an antidote to the increasing number of supermodel specimens sauntering by on the street outside my flat. Go back 20 years, and the 'it girl' handbag was THE accessory. I just had an eating disorder.
PROGRESS, NOT PERFECTION?
Why is it that so many of us, consciously or unconsciously, seem to pursue an ideal that we can never reach? 'Progress, not perfection', was one of the many support group mantras I memorised, when beginning the slow and painful recovery from bulimia, two decades ago. The rage, shame and lonliness were never eased by the 6 eclairs and 3 bars of (non-organic) chocolate I ate late at night, in the loo. All obsessive behaviours, and yes, that includes the more acceptable work addiction, are signs of a deeper longing, at least, that's my perspective and experience. Like it or not, our bodies will sag (no matter how much surgery we sign up for), our minds let things slip, even if we're ultra bright, and even the most complex comp - I'm told it's the F35 - must say 'no' sometimes, just for the high tech hell of it.
'POST IT' PROFITS: TRUMP TOWER HIGH
A focused high achiever I know, suggested I have 'cleaning the house/supermarket shop/sorting out my pants, 'goals'. I have to work hard at what's now called 'executive functioning'. Sorting out life's minutae so that I can exist, on my own, or with others, in a nourishing and joyful environment, makes some kind of sense. I'm the reason why Tesco's post it/felt pen profits are now Trump Tower high. I'm sure this kind of micro planning IS important, and sometimes it works. But the day spent preparing the flat for what was going to be a transFORMATIVE paint job, left me wiped, and weeping gently into a large glass of 'Gruner Veltliner'. (Austrian white, W'rose special offer, just got it out of the fridge to read label; thought I'd live a bit). All prepped for the decorating shindig, I tripped over my #quicksetsolutionforawkwardgaps expanding foam Polyfilla spray, (Tesco direct 6.99 - this is NOT a sponsored feature, I promise), and am now wearing a heat patch on my lower back.
SMALL AND SIMPLE
I am also constantly revamping the CV - the 'blink and you'll miss it' pension - online presence' - and the rest; in an attempt to keep the cash coming in until I don't get to retire, ever. I have my 'goals', but in smaller more manageable steps. This, I find, is more holistic, realistic and above self caring, than the 'all or nothing' misery making compulsive decisions, of my eating disordered past.
WHO'S LIVING, RENT FREE, IN YOUR HEAD?
Of course, I have not got it all sussed. Driveness, the critical parent/superior 'friend', still snaps at my heels, or tries to live rent free, in my head, and start a conversation. Sometimes, when I choose, this voice, which I make more compassionate, can be a useful tool. Generally though, if i don't keep it simple and small, I get sick. And I want to stay and live well. So, I update a para, rather than the whole CV in one go, shop the supermarket - but don't try and carry a whole week's worth of fruit and veg home, and make the Polyfilla back pain worse. I Laugh ALOT more, spend more time with the kids I love, and hang on (despite the obvious horrors) to my sense of wonder at the world.
AND THE GREYHOUND............?
The three legged Greyhound, has, I'm told, found her imperfect home at last. Complete with an imperfect companion who loves her to bits.