I’ve experienced things in this life I would not think one could endure. Things I couldn’t have even made up. Would never have dreamt would be a part of my story. If I wrote my own story it would be quite different dear reader.
And yes of course it has coloured my personality. I Want to choose happiness, I really do and there are times when I’m successful but for the most part it’s a continuing effort. Doesn’t come easily or naturally.
I pause during writing to read another’s blog and instantly my mood is lifted and my perception shifted. It’s not just that I choose happiness, it’s that I choose to live without expectation. “The more I ignore negative feelings the less they’ll show up.” (thanks Whittlin Rich) I choose to live without spending too much time thinking about the expectations others have of me. Until such time, if ever, I can live as I dream…I’ll just keep on dreaming about it and smiling – how’s that?
This is all a bit fragmented because what you’re not reading, but I’m thinking, is that there are three threads.
- There’s the awful things that couldn’t possibly have happened to me. Did.
- There’s the I’m living in the inner city, someone else’s life, this is not me. Where’s the farm?
- And there’s the OMG I’m an introvert, quiet, wish to be anonymous, invisible with a job I fell into that is way out there in front of the organisation, very public, bossy and in control – yeah Right! There are also some incredibly positive things to write about the job and even the getting of it – another post, another day.
Three very stressful events in two weeks – the blood, another as yet unwritten, and the rude work man and I guess I could be excused for having a few pyjama days in a row. Heater on, junk food ready, don’t ring me I won’t answer, don’t knock on my door I’m not here. I’m just exhausted.
Life’s not like that though. I must get up in the morning to tend to mother. I must get dressed because at my age a pyjama day requires privacy ha ha ha. And, as with my job, where I live means I’m never invisible.
I could enjoy being a hermit…
(postscript for those who read and left lovely comments re the rude work man – looks like he is going not me though the stress around this topic won’t be over til the fat lady sings. No, no I do not sing. I mean until it’s truely over and done with.)