Managing one’s to-do lists can be a challenge; striking a comfortable balance between the necessary, the would be good to do, and the desirable is an art. I am convinced that over-ambition and not curiosity killed the cat.I think however that I have found a way to make peace. I single out a focal activity for each day. It could be in the lines of, working on the assignment, sending off the agenda, going to the gym, cleaning up, etc. Everything else, like going to work, washing the dishes, cooking, etc., are just orbiting chores and do not count unless there is a particular reason.Also combinations are allowed, as long as they stay realistic, i.e. go to the gym AND bake bread.
Take the other day for instance: I cleaned the fridge, baked bread, made soup, washed the dishes, gardened, worked, met my sister, worked some more; quite a typical level of activity for me; in hindsight, I realise that it is not exactly the definition of slacking. Nevertheless, for the feeling of efficiency to sink in, there has to be a match between projection and outcome. Also, quite importantly, there should be room for good quality rewards, some good old patting on the shoulder to fuel motivation and intention.
Today’s focus is going to the gym. Two loafs of bread are already in the oven, and a tray of muesli is waiting to get crisp and toasty. Before I jump into my training gear, I have a couple of hours of work ahead of me. Being lazy is hard work!
Midsummer has passed without the typical folklore attributes. The longest day of the year was overcast; the unidentifiable weather has not helped in instilling summer feelings. It has been raining profusely. The grass is as green as ever – and not only on the other side of the fence. Snails relish on chlorophyll and happy hermaphrodites risk their lives on wet asphalted paths.
The sun is always out in the early mornings without fail, but the long evenings are still crouched under a duvet of clouds.
Summer is on hold; eventually, it will stretch out its long legs, kick the cover aside, rise and shine. I think we’re ready.
Some realisations dawn upon you while in the deepest slumber of everyday life. Like:
You cannot have a rainbow without rain. You can only have a double rainbow if you have a rainbow to start with. And for that, you need rain.
It is summer if you can have your cereal with pieces of watermelon and delight in the crispiness of the melon and the sogginess of the grains. Knowing that the melon has traveled all the way from Spain does not make it less tasty; it is just a reminder of how striving for perfection is a bumpy road, paved with curvy fruit.
Squash a plant into a pot, and it will still claim its right to a habitat, be it in the confined space of a window sill, because it is born free.
Three colours that just happened to meet on me created a triumvirate and a joyful chain-reaction that started in my eyes and ended somewhere in my heart. I thought, “Wow, this is powerful stuff….”
“May the Force be with us“, I heard the Jedi with the rainbow saber saying.
Once returned to your starting point after time spent traveling to foreign, or familiar places, you may feel as if the travel has never taken place. Just like that and you’re back to your everyday life, routines and mundane chores.
But the ethereal gift of traveling materialises slowly: it comes to you when nostalgia over times spent on the road washes over you; when a random stimulus awakens the reminiscence of moments spent savouring the unknown; or when looking forward to visiting an old or new place makes you brim with anticipation.
In my rosary of places treasured, there is a knot for Crete: I am eager to return to the island, as if lured by a promise unfulfilled.
I have this image – I am sitting at a specific restaurant located on a backstreet of the old harbour of Chania. I can see the sea promenade at distance. It is slightly off season, and the atmosphere is not upbeat, but rather mellow and relaxed. I lean back on my chair, letting my gaze wonder…
Right now, this is what I’ve got – a mental projection, a postcard on the fridge door and in my hand a cool slice of melon, which quite accurately sounds like the Greek word for future.
The beauty of traveling in a melon pit.
A few days ago, I returned from a week away to a weekend of birthday celebrations, heavy curtains of rain and a new week of nearing deadlines.
Quite weirdly, it is the short trips to known places, in which I have vested feelings, that tend to give me a certain kind of jet-lag. After a couple of days of tiredness combined with a non-optimal mood and more sleep than I have been getting in the past year or so, a window of opportunity appeared in the cascade of rain, so I went out for a -dry- walk.
Beautiful surroundings, physical activity and rays of light: what a magical concoction. The swing of moods swayed up to the skies…