Showing posts with label authenticity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label authenticity. Show all posts

To Display Or Not To Display

Lately I've been obsessed with creating my "study". You've heard of a man cave. The hub calls it the Taron Lair. It's basically a whole room dedicated to writing this blog, among other things (such as more lucrative things, like the days when I work from home).

I have -- or more accurately -- someone whom I paid, painted it grey with white trim. And I bought a cheap retro writing desk, which doesn't feel that sturdy, but it works. It is north facing, so not directly sunny, but it does have a big window and feels calming and bright enough to me, even when it's overcast like this morning. It's still a work-in-progress though. Nothing on the walls yet!


One of the things that I decided during the life-changing clear out is that keeping things in boxes tucked away in an attic or a basement is not for me. It certainly does not bring me joy -- and I'm sure that it will never bring anyone else joy either. Because let's face it, it's usually someone else who goes though our attic boxes at the end of our lives. So I've made the more or less perilous decision that everything we have should be on display or at least vertically folded somewhere neatly away. But no more boxes!

Which brings me to my dilemma. As I've mentioned before, last summer my parents sent me my childhood belongings from America when they sold the house I grew up in. I got rid of a lot of crazy things that I've been saving, but there are still challenges lurking around. For example, I have a small collection of dolls that my Great Aunt Ruth brought back from different countries on her travels with my uncle after they retired. She also brought back coins and labelled them for me.

Now as childish or silly as this may seem, these items give me particular joy. I fondly remember watching all my aunt & uncle's slide shows from around the world and I believe that it was these memories and the gifts so carefully brought back for me which inspired my interest in living abroad. So last week when I had some shelves installed in the room, I tried my luck at displaying the dolls and the coins.

Alas -- displaying dolls in a room for adults is really only one thing: creepy. And I tested it out on the Hub, who pretty much shrieked when he came into the room. But what to do, considering my box rule? As with most small problems to solve, I let it stew over the weekend to see if I could come up with a solution.

And eventually one was presented to me. In my study I have a cedar chest, given to me by another relative who is no longer with us, but close to my heart. I am using it as a coffee table for the moment and it just had some spare sheets and a blanket inside, for which I was easily able to find another place. So in went the doll collection and a couple of other bits of sentimental memorabilia which I'm not particularly anxious to display, but would like to hold onto. Such as my "Most Improved Player" award from my high school swimming team, which of course I could never part with, as well as that recently refurbished Girl Scout sash.


Not sure if this is all still slightly creepy, but hey, no one ever has to know, right?

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Do You Like... Stuff?

Extra credit if you get the title of this post. (Leave a comment if you know the reference.)

When we're kids we pursue what we like. We read books that interest us, create games with friends, and just generally fill our days with what suits us. For me, this meant becoming obsessed with an electronic typewriter my mom brought home from work. I actually taught myself to type. And then I wrote stories on it. I also did things like try to learn to play the piano on a small toy one (my parents later conceded with proper lessons and a real piano). I was a weirdly prolific diarist and letter writer and I would create "magazines" by cutting out pictures from catalogues and magazines. I also rode my bike and climbed on jungle gyms - like a more normal kid - but there was usually a narrative involved in these activities too.

But then we grow up. I remember the conscious decision I took when leaving for college to stop keeping a journal. I wanted to "experience" things and not just reflect on them. And I took some classes that I wasn't that interested in to push myself and branch out. And there have been many times in my career where I've focused on what I think I should be doing instead of what I wanted to be doing. Not that these things are bad -- in fact, they must be a necessary growth phase.

There's a school of thought, however, about focusing on what inspires us. From Leo Baubauta's no goals philosophy to Steve Job's explanation that a caligraphy class taken in college inpired the fonts on the original mac computer, the idea is that we can't always see where our interests will get us. It's the process that gives us the joy along the way and we can often only connect the dots in hindsight anyway.

So I've been paying attention recently to what "stuff" interests me. I suppose you could say this blog is part of the process. I was almost ready to ditch it a while back. Not feeling like I had that much more to say on the physio stuff (since I'm so much better these days) and feeling a bit stuck in general. And then I thought, well, why can't I just use it to write about what interests me right now, no matter what it is? If people want to read it, grand, and if not, at least I'm still exercising my writing muscle.

In addition to reading what I like, writing about what interests me and even considering taking up the piano again, I've also begun to notice some new things. Here are a few that have taken me a bit by surprise:

Flowers.
The hub and I have become addicted to the luxury of having fresh cut flowers in our flat. There's an amazing flower stall outside of the exit of the Clapham Junction station that we both have to pass on our way home. And we often talk about the flowers we see there and have experimented with buying different combinations. I've been also trying to learn the names of what we're buying as I know absolutely nothing about flowers. Here's a photo of one of my favorites. We call them the brain flowers. And in fact, that's almost what they are called, often referred to as the brain celosia or celosia cockscomb, because they also bear a little resemblance to a rooster's comb.




The way people used to live.
When we went on vacation to Ireland last autumn (and also learned something about Halloween), we visited this amazing house in Killarney, called Muckross House, which is a 19th century Victorian mansion. The hub was not so keen to take the tour (he hates tours) but I was really intrigued, so he conceded. And I was absolutely fascinated by the period decoration of the main rooms in the house and the information we learned about the occupants and how the house itself worked -- all the bells that rang down to the servants in the basement were still there. For some reason, I love the minutiae of everyday life in the past. What did people eat? Where did they sleep? The more boring and routine, the better.

Biography.
But I'm also interested in people's stories. In fact, the owners of Muckross House nearly bankrupted themselves preparing for Queen Victoria's visit in 1861. That's why biography has been a genre I've discovered in my 30s and haven't turned back (although in retrospect I did like biography as a kid, even though it was usually a school assignment to read it). The first recent biography I read was Josephine: The Rose of Martinique by Andrea Stuart about Napoleon's wife. I only read it because I was taking a non-fiction writing class and my teacher was the author. But it gave me the bug. I think it's the combination of everyday life combined with the fact that truth really can be stranger than fiction. And it also reminds me that no matter how much our lives change with technology and indoor plumbing, they always stay the same. I believe that what motivates, entertains and strikes fear in our hearts is a constant, no matter in what century you live on this earth.

So, what "stuff" have you discovered you like recently? Are you paying attention?

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Enough: Limits Can Be Expansive

I've always been a bit of a more-is-more addict. In high school, perhaps driven by the need to impress college admissions officers or just the enthusiastic, inquisitive part of my personality, there was always one more activity I wanted to do. The French club, the Environmental Club, Drama club, Chorus, Key Club. I was on the swim team, the soccer team and even tried track for a while (although thank goodness that didn't work out as my posture problems later in life feasibly could have been worse). It's good to try things: you make friends and get to know your likes and dislikes and hone in on what you're good at.

There's definitely an argument in life for pushing yourself and trying things. But when to say when? When is it time to decide that you are enough already?



When I think back on times in my life when I've been the happiest, it's when I've scaled back. I fought the urge to dive in head first when I joined my university's daily newspaper. I wanted to strike a balance at university that I didn't have in high school. So I sat it out my freshman year and then sophomore year I started devoting one day a week to writing a news story and eventually did one copy editing slot a week as well. But I knew I wasn't interested in becoming an editor.

I studied a lot at university, but I also knew that going out on the weekends with my friends, going to concerts and just hanging out in our dorm rooms was essential to having the whole experience. I remember thinking: I want to enjoy this time.

Any kind of limit on what you do, what you own or how much you work can seem just that – limiting. But paradoxically, I'm discovering that when I reduce my focus, I am actually able to grow on a personal level that is impossible when I'm stretched too thinly. Learning and understanding become deeper, more fulfilling and expansive. What's more, honing in on the things that you really love means that challenging yourself is more rewarding. Being content with who you are and what you are about gives you the freedom to say: I don't need this extra distraction.

There are so many things in life I enjoy and peak my interest. We'll be going to a wedding in Italy next year and I'd love to take a beginning Italian class so I can actually speak to people. But when I actually did some research on the time commitment involved I had to consider my priorities right now. There are (sadly) limitations on my time and energy. And I've done that sort of thing before – life drawing classes in New York, French lessons in London, and tap dancing in both cities. It's not as if I've lived a deprived cultural life.

These days I'm focusing on writing and activities I feel are essential – reading (as a necessary part of writing, I think), exercise that works my mind as well as my body and relationships that sustain me. I am done with thinking that the things I'm good at and enjoy aren't enough. Because having enough and being enough is a state of mind.

This post is part of the Self-Discovery Word by Word series started by Ashley at Nourishing the Soul. To find out more and learn how to get involved yourself, read Miss Mary Max's kick off post for September here.

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Authenticity: Being True But Growing Too

The other day at work I got the news that my desk was to be moved. Not the most tragic of news, or even bad news at all. In fact, I ended up with a great desk, still near the window and near people I like to chat with. All good stuff.

But I still felt weird, what with my overactive fight-flight reflex. I spent a few weeks feeling disoriented. I'm not asking for sympathy here, but just trying to make the point that I knew I was going to feel this way. I've become more aware of myself as I've careened through the ups and downs of adulthood and I know that I'm an anxious person – and part of this is that physical change does affect me. (This might be a good time to read an older blog of mine called Baby 19, where I discuss an ice cream shop touring opportunity I sadly missed at the age of five).

Knowing myself, knowing why I react to things the way I do, knowing what it is I prefer and what I don't like – that's what authenticity means to me. I believe it's about being true to yourself and not trying to be something or someone you're not. Such as trying to avoid situations where you have a boyfriend who surfs and suddenly you need to buy yourself a wet suit.

That said, I'm glad I tried surfing (badly) in the freezing cold water in Ireland. And one of my friends got good use out of the wetsuit during her two-year trip to Australia.

So where does accepting yourself as you are meet pushing yourself to try new things and be someone you never thought you could be? Where is it productive to be true to yourself and where does it harm you?

When you push yourself to do something that you know is tough for you, it gives you a small bit of insight into what life could be like if you weren't so scared or didn't create arbitrary limits. Sometimes it may reinforce your belief that something isn't for you – perhaps you actually don't enjoy it and it shouldn't be a priority. But occasionally, doing something that's a challenge – and even possibly making a fool of yourself – is a great experience to have. It keeps you humble and from taking yourself too seriously.

And that's what authenticity is about. Keeping it real (ha, ha). Knowing who you are but also being open to expanding that definition from time to time. For example, you could move desks every once in a while.

When I moved to London nearly nine years ago it was terrifying and lonely and it took a few years to actually feel like I fit in and that I was part of my adopted country. And although I still don't like pre-made sandwiches, I can complain about the weather like an old pro. More importantly, I learned that I can push myself to do new scary things, in spite of my anxiety. And by living on my edge, I got to know myself pretty well, which in my opinion is what authenticity is about. It's trying to get closer to your truth – whatever it may be.

This post is part of the Self-Discovery, Word by Word series. Katie at Health for the Whole Self kicked it off this month with 'authenticity'. Click here to read more about it or get involved.

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