Digressions & Confessions

I love Netflix. 

I love that feature which makes the next episode come on right after one finishes –  and in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 – before you can finish the thought “should I watch another episode?”, the theme song is already playing.  A computer code has helpfully made the decision for you.

If you believe in signs, the fact that the next episode has already started – well, that’s a sign as clear as the neon one screaming ‘SALE SALE SALE!’ in a trendy shoe shop.

It tickles me how our minds work.  Unconsciously always on the lookout for affirmation for what we want – like a text message from JustEat (a life-altering food delivery app in the UK) asking you to “put your feet up and just order in!” – just what it takes to assuage that tiny bit of guilt about eating unhealthy or overspending on food.  “But it’s a sign!”

I mean, of course, not really. It is more of a marketing gimmick but then we’ll believe what we want. 

While I’m confessing, here is another admission of guilt: I sometimes only read the headlines/excerpts of articles shared on Facebook and click ‘like’.  I mean not only is it cringe-worthy that I am getting 80% of my news from a social media platform excessively used to prove (to others and yourself) that your life is better than others, but what’s worse is that I don’t even bother to see what the article is actually talking about.  It could be spewing absolute rubbish – but since the headline is espousing all the right beliefs, and by the right beliefs I mean of course, my own beliefs, I click the little thumbs up and play my miniscule part in perpetuating a thought.

Oh, I almost forgot – happy new year!

I was actually going to write a blog about my new year’s resolutions and I was thinking I’d talk about how this year I’m going to use the SMART method and take my flighty airy resolutions puffy like cotton candy in my mind and turn them into concrete measurable and tangible words in a diary. 

But then thankfully I read this article (more than the headline this time, about 70% of it I think) about how we in this new age are obsessed with self-improvement and health and measuring our successes like we do at work and it made so much sense to me! Yes! That’s right! I don’t want to treat my personal goals like work goals because then it’d be like I’m ALWAYS at my job!

And as a result, I’m still unsure about what I want to focus on this year, which is great because if you don’t define something, you can’t really fall behind or suck at it – which is super, because who wants to fail at life?

Besides, if I’m honest, my resolutions this year are less than, let’s say – groundbreaking? I mean, I remember my bucket list just a few (few = more than a decade  ... wait, what, fuck, didn’t I just say to stop quantifying everything!?) years ago ... sky diving, giving blood once a year, travelling, bungee jumping ...

This year they are wildly imaginative and unique to me as a 30-year-old woman with some disposable income living in 2018:

1. Be healthy – like seriously, join a fucking gym already.  Lose the belly, build some muscles, make it super easy to lift that small trolley bag into the overhead compartment instead of the heave-ho-shirt-riding-up-knee-supporting-the-bag-halfway-red-face-bag-hitting-face-before-finally-slamming-into-the-compartment routine that’s getting kind of old.

And yeah, eat more fruit.  Introduce brown rice into the house (but never, ever let it replace white rice completely).

2. Live in the present (as opposed to what, one may roll their eyes, but it is the curse of a planner to always live at least a few hours ahead, at least in the mind – and so, this year I want to remind myself to get back to where I am, take a deep breath, and if it’s pleasant enough, then keep my head with the rest of my body).

3. Be happy.  And not just when the sun is shining and the coffee hot, frothy and sweet but when the clouds gather and the wind whips like someone is throwing invisible ice cubes in your face, when the shadows lengthen and the ravens come to rest on my shoulders ... be happy when it takes an effort to be happy – when it takes all your strength to blow away the curling tendrils of spidery fears, when you have to pry open, one by one, the tight knobbly fingers of sadness and self-pity tightening around your wrists and ankles, trying to keep you in bed and continue listening to sad mopey songs.

Now this is a real tough one.  I find it very hard to change gears – if something has made me angry, or sad, then I like to really wallow in it.  Throw myself whole heartedly into the pool of emotions, lay back and scoop the tepid gray water over myself morosely.  But this year, I’m going to try and give it a shot – let things go.  Not saying it is going to be easy, because while some things might be easier to let go – spilling coffee grounds on a recently mopped floor (yes that is definitely something that riles me up and makes me think the whole world is against me – just for like 90 seconds), other things are harder to get over – broken promises, loneliness, mislaid trust.

The end goal though is the same – to move on and spend as little time as possible crouched in a corner staring at the puddle of milk slowly spreading (on the floor or over your heart).

The problem with letting things go, however, is that you’re acquiescing to the status quo.  Because anger and indignation is integral to seeing, and then fighting, injustice ... and I guess at some level, that’s the source of so much domestic discord these days too.   Women finally having had it with doing everything and getting no credit for it. Why shouldn’t we nag our partners about doing the dishes or once in a blue moon actually getting up first and making breakfast? Gone are the days when the men can say because they provide a roof over our heads – too many women are working full-time jobs outside and inside their homes.

It all comes down to what’s more important to you I guess – equality (even watered down near equality) in the household or peace?

And it is the same in all relationships, isn’t it – siblings, friends, work, even your relationship with yourself. Do you want to hold yourself accountable to your resolutions and goals – or do you want to give yourself a break and perhaps not be the ideal weight and size, maybe not get guilt-ridden because you still haven’t accomplished your dreams of learning to ride a bike or swimming better than a finless mermaid or writing a novel (even a novella?)?

Maybe this year, I’ll focus on spending more time being happy (at least for the first few months) and less time holding others and myself accountable to (high?) standards.

(Another confession: I’ve actually started following an Instagram account that details lives of refugees so I can stop obsessing over how ugly my bed linen is compared to the aesthetically crumpled comfort of everybody else’s bed, and instead remember how fucking fortunate I am to have a job, a home, food and more than two pairs of shoes).

So anyway, have a happy new year. And remember – when the dark clouds gather or stress tightens like a heavy metal ball between your shoulder blades, choose to be happy.  Fight for it. Get off your butt and go to the gym, or take a long, warm bath or watch an episode of your favourite episode and just let Netflix make the decisions for you for a few hours...