This, to be honest.
Blogging and trying to fix my website so that it doesn’t resemble the haphazardness of someone totally without direction (*cough*, myself) has taken up most of the last five days. Thankfully I seem to be getting quicker at producing content and it’s made me contemplate how easily we can adopt habits. I wonder too how I could have lived without the stats tab on the computer, constantly checking it to see if I am indeed (as I mentioned in my very first post), writing into an internet void.
I haven’t been in contact with my boyfriend because he is three days deep into a meditation course which necessitates silence. There are seven further days to go. I might have found the separation difficult had we not been through a similar experience three times in the months of January and February. It feels somewhat cyclical to have the year finish itself off in the same fashion.
Preparing a post about what I have done inevitably leads me to think about what I haven’t done, and not in the sense of what I have not completed but rather from the perspective of feeling like I have to do things at all.
Every morning I wake up and tell myself that I have to do something today and, to be fair to myself, I do. It is as natural to me to write a list of tasks and activities as it is to flick the switch of the kettle and pour myself a tea to start off the morning.
It seems that I measure the success of a day by how much I do. I wouldn’t say I am a member of the ‘present moment’ fandom and I do take issue with people telling me I should just ‘be’ because I don’t think any of us know what we are saying when we say that. If I am doing, I am being too – am I not? My being can be defined by my actions and there can be nothing wrong with that. I like doing, is what I am trying to say. Days look better when you can look back over them before your eyes close for the night and think yes, I did something today.
Sometimes I find myself backing the idea that there is a kind of plan, a road map for each life, that despite what we may perceive as stumbling blocks is largely being followed no matter what. Destiny, though I really don’t like the word.
Like everything I think about, a counter-argument is never far behind. The problem I have in believing in destiny is that I feel it robs us of our autonomy. In other words no matter what we do, we are going to end up at the same destination. Indeed, the only way we can deviate is to make what is perceived as a mistake.
I suppose though what attracts me to it is much the same as that which turns me off. We could do nothing, or least stop trying so hard (which so often feels like fighting) and still wind up exactly where we are meant to be.
If that were the case then I could wake up every day during this month that I am taking time off and feel as if the day would be worth something just by virtue of the fact that I have woken up to it.
Would it beat making lists? Would I achieve anything by the end of November?
I don’t know, and I don’t know if I should have the obsession with achievement that I do. How do I help it though? Losing sight of feeling like I am doing something with my time means attempting to forge a new way of living, of measuring the value of it and of placing faith in some plan of action of which all my doing might actually be the architect.
On day six of my boyfriend’s time in India, I feel myself travelling in circles albeit in the company of some very good questions.