Musings

There’s something to be said for the benefits of Instagram.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a prolific pond of polished ponderers of which some are pretentious and some are genuine, some are super hipster and some are, well, not. Some people are incredibly visually creative, others (ahem) not, and for some businesses it works really well. It’s an interesting social media tool, that I think works best for the fashion industry…but that’s me.

What I’ve really valued from it, is noticing what i really, truly like.

I’ve always found it somewhat difficult to “label” what I do and don’t like, in the sense that I do like the colour orange and I would prefer dark wood furniture over light wood furniture.

For a word nerd, it’s hard to get your head out of the clouds, and realise what your visual preferences are.

For me, Instagram opened that up for me.

I started going through my old posts, and seeing a pattern. My Lost in my Reverie Instagram was intended to follow a pattern and some kind of theme, but the theme has kind of evolved on its own now, and I’m noticing consistencies.

I’ve realised that I love flowers. I love floral designs, I love floral arrangements. Anything floral. (Well, not anything.).

I also love soft hues, black and white, and not too much colour. Is that boring? I like a splash of colour, but not too much. I think colour can be rendered beautifully when sparingly. (I like my white space, what can I say?).

So it’s given me this realisation. A sense of understanding that other websites haven’t been able to give.

It’s satisfying, and I’m excited to learn more and more about myself.

Wish me luck.

J

xx

It’s Wednesday, and let me tell you, it’s been a hell of a week. And a slightly shit week, at that.

One of the things that I struggle most with is how easily other people can affect me. One strange smile here, one cranky look there, can completely upheave my day. It’s infuriating. One bad impression, weird encounter, or awful phone call can set me in some of the foulest moods I’ve been in. The worst part?

I have no idea how to get out of them.

I find it all consuming. How could they do this? What were they thinking? Did they mean what they say?

Even if I manage to get to a point where I avoid thinking about it, and try to push it aside, my mood remains. It’s like trying to push the trash deeper and deeper into the bin, when really you need to empty it.

In any case, it’s incredibly annoying. I wish I had more control over my mood and my emotions, and I wish people had less control over me.

As you get older, you think that would be the case, but I guess it’s not.

I suppose it’s something else to add to my list of improvements.

J

xx

It’s September, which means that my new Peppermint Magazine has arrived in the mail, and I get to sit down and engulf everything it has to offer.

This issue was all about slow living, which is pertinent, because I always go through their magazine slowly, carefully. I never want to miss a thing. I want to make sure that every inch of the magazine has been read, because all of it is valuable to me.

Wait, this is a magazine, right?

Yes. And this issue really got me thinking.

It got me thinking about how much I really value my time. What I do with it, how I manage it, what I get out of it.

I remember being at school and the days would dwindle by — I’d spend the afternoons curled up on the couch with some chocolate and a good movie (too often than not, I’m afraid…).

I always seemed to have time, though, despite the hectic schedules that older high school students soon seem to be overwhelmed by. I was busy, but there was always time.

I wasn’t rushing, like I do now.

I mean, the mornings are always, and have always, been a rush for me. I’m not a morning person.

But I remember slowly, carelessly, trudging my way home from school, sometimes with a friend, sometimes alone, but with always time to spare.

These days it’s the complete opposite. I never trudge anywhere, and I’m swamped for time. I’m fighting the clock, I’m fighting the traffic, I’m even fighting the pedestrian traffic. I’m surprised at the life I’m living. It’s escaping me, and I don’t know how to get it back.

So, thanks to this issue, I’m awoken, as it were. I’ll be paying more attention to my time, and what I do with it.

And just try to slow down.

J

xx

Recently, I completed my final exam for my post-graduate study. It was invigorating.

Weight lifted. Eyes widened. My smile sung.

For the last year, I’ve been studying part-time, externally, while simultaneously working full time. Let me tell you, if there is one thing that I’ve taken on board lightly in my life, it’s choosing to study more than one subject a semester while working full time in a corporate job.

There’s been tears, confusion, delirious hunger, and the sad realisation that I cannot approach my study the same way I did throughout full-time uni.

There’s not even the slightest chance of starting the day it’s due, because you have to go to work.

There’s no, stay-up-till-2am-and-smash-this-out scenarios where you stay half-awake by eating anything you can get your hands on — from Pringles to Gummi Bears (guilty).

I’ve had to deal with work commitments, boyfriend commitments, family commitments, and more, all within the tiny time frame that I have at my disposal — weeknights and long awaited weekends.

I’ll be honest here. The last few weeks, maybe more, of my study fizzled down to a groaning stomach ache, simultaneously dreading yet yearning for the weekend, only knowing I’d have to spend all of it (yep, all of it) studying. It became quite drab, but thankfully, with end in sight.

And finally it came — freedom! Huzzah!

I can hardly describe the moment that so many of us experience, apart from simply liberating.

With study out of my way, I can achieve anything — right?

J

xx

There’s something to be said for the transition of seasons.

Before I knew it, autumn was already here.

It’s been so hot at the moment — hot, hot, HOT — that I didn’t notice the changing light.

The sun setting sooner, the crickets chirping less.

The shadowy light, the fading dusk.

I spend less and less of my time outside. And when I do (on a daily basis, that is) I’m always rushing to and from. To and from. To and fro. Toing and froing. From home to work. Work to home. Rushing to live but not living to rush.

I miss my favourite part of the day now. Dusk. Autumn’s dusk. Actually, I like dusk at any time of the year, but I think it’s extra special during Autumn. Maybe it’s the change from hot to cool (which is experienced least in Brisbane’s climate), instead of cool to hot, or just plain hot.

I love the heat, but I also love the cool. I say cool, because I don’t think that 13 degrees really counts as cold.

I like a bit of both, so maybe it’s lucky that I live in these parts.

But either way, I no longer get to experience my favourite time of day. The part that makes the day worth living, anyway. The potential in the air, the excitement of the empty night of endless opportunities. Maybe it’s those nights that make everything worthwhile. Maybe it’s what we live for. Maybe I’ll find it a little more in the corners of each day.

Wish me luck.

·· J ··

It’s Monday evening. I have work tomorrow. Yep. 8:30am, on the dot. Right on the dot. Actually, a bit before the dot is preferable, but that isn’t always viable.

I’ve had four days off over this Easter weekend.

You’d think that would put you in a great mood, right? Right??

I’d hoped so.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the case.

My weekend has been a sad combination of multiple events, that, while perfectly great events in themselves, ended up poorly executed throughout my precious few days of freedom.

Sucky, right?

Kind of. I mean, I want to be upbeat about it, and try not to be so self-centred. It’s not the end of the world, there are other weekends in the year, and family is important.

It’s so, so hard to think that way when you’re worn down, tired, cranky, and just want something to go your way for once.

Even if it’s just for one afternoon.

It’s hard to squish in “me” time these days. When I was studying, I had all the “me” time in the world. Too much, probably. If it reached a tipping point, you’d find me strewn on the corridor floor, staring blankly at the ceiling wondering how ants made it all the way up there. In my underwear.

Yep.

These days, I’m rushing around trying to live my life in between work and (*sigh*) more study.

So while this is my first Easter weekend off in six years (retail jobs = no. public. holidays. ever.), I didn’t really get to do anything that I really wanted to do.

I didn’t get that satisfying feeling that I’d really lived it out, you know?

I’ve reached Monday night, and I’m reaching for my wine as I wallow in self-pity.

If only I could have found myself surrounded by the waves, the echoing crash putting me to sleep.

J

xx