New Year, New City
This is the view from where I sit now. Its my latest front garden, an outdoor 'office' for my laptop and I.
If I stand up and look down the slope, I can see the sparkle of Sydney's harbor.
I had two New Year's Mornings this morning.
I'm going to tell you about them, because they show how my whole year, whole life might turn out. Or not.
They will remind me that putting 'The right thing in the right place' can rescue me.
|Image from Google image search|
I awoke at dawn, knowing I'd had some kind of defeat.
What defeat? Where? The details hadn't yet clarified in my fuzzy mind.
Ah, the woes of Sydney's New Years Eve Midnight fireworks.
It was being so small in such a big crowd. It was the seemingly endless march to the ever-receeding train station.
One ear hurt.
Oh, and my poor purse, all my treasures, buckled and ruined, sloshing around in soft drink some goon had poured into my handbag.
Once bad brain chemicals from what happened in the past get a hold, they have a party working on ruining the future too.
"A New Year? Oh no!
A blank page for me to hesitate in front of, to make a mess of, to squander"!
I made tea, had First Breakfast, did some more fretting.
Then I noticed something useful - A sleep mask Id put under the pillow.
Then, I recalled my sister's words: 'Thoughts conjured up under the influence of bad brain chemicals are off limits for later use. Straight to the bin".
Alongside the purse.
With darkness, with permission not to fret, I returned to sleep, for another try at a Happy New Year's Day.
|Trish's veranda & Bach: Concerto After The A Minor Violin Concerto - 13. Allegro Assai|
A few hours later I was having second breakfast, viewing the park, while the breeze softly came in and arranged my hair. Those sunny brain chemicals kicked in. Bless them.
But why did they?
Just last night my brother and the gang had turned up with a basket of goodies, and the muscle to haul Trish's dining table to the 'conservatory'.
Having people who want to eat with you is reason to be happy.
Having allies who carry out wishes that seemed beyond your strength, that's reason to be happy.
Being in dappled light, in lively air, surrounded by swishing green and birdsong is a sadness-repellent. Gets pretty much everybody happy, for free, for no good reason.
Hey, a potato-salad gene.
There was brushcetta with basil and rocket from the newly-planted doorstep garden, my first harvest.
Two weeks ago these plants were bitter and distressed, confined to their containers.
Just two hours ago so was I.
And the crowning glory - on my little Apple Mac I've got Bach's Trumpet Concerto.
Explosions of glory, fading with exquisite slowness. Fireworks in Audio form.
Anytime I want.
So, very small things saved me.
- The sleepmask
- Remembering the 'permission not to think' rule
- The balcony-table move (just two meters, but another world from its usual spot)
- The 10 minutes for planting (with Trish's BBQ spatula)
- Bach in i-tunes
As for my dread with the blank new year - Hey, I draw. If anyone knows it, I do:
Mistakes are the only way to get something creative, something worth doing from a blank page.
Make drafts. Refine them. Fix mistakes, do second drafts. Be surprised and proud.
I can do that.
That's what I do.
I can have yet another worthwhile and interesting year, worth the work, and different to all that have come before.