The End and Beginning

How often do you get the opportunity to get from A to B via ZYX? How often have you been told that the journey is more important than the destination? How often is the longest journey one that takes place in your head? My entire trip away will be a journey of sorts because I don’t – yet – have anything planned.

Planning isn’t really one of my strong points and as a result, everything in my head is in a jumble. By setting things down on paper here, I hope to make sense of my mental post-it notes and their total disarray. The feeling of chaos has been exacerbated by the completion of my structure-giving MA. Now I don’t have that to hold on to, I feel strangely directionless.

Surely a sense of freedom after the stress of writing on demand should be welcome? But clearly not, I’ve struggled to come up with anything slightly sparky this week. If I lack direction and structure, the result is a surprisingly imaginational rigidity. By trying to take control myself and do what is perceived to be the right thing, or go about things the right way in a vague pretence at being an adult, my thinking goes annoyingly stale.

Why is it my imagination only flies within the constraints of an academic essay? Why is the lively spark of a poem initiated by the stern rhythmic metre of a first line? Why does my chaotically creative insight only appear when I am tied by deadlines, pressure and plans? Which I know I’m terrible at starting.

Seriously, this is enough to drive anyone to martinis and chunky chips.

So I was given a verbal shake yesterday when I was reminded that the journey to the island of my dreams was a way of providing mental focus. Although driving is clearly the sensible way of getting belongings to a new home, it gives us the freedom to explore as we head south.

It is this freedom which is making my head scream and post-it notes whirl. Therefore I’ve taken the security blanket of some books, a paper map, and started to draft some places which we need to take in on the way. My head has already diverged and I have a practical list and a dreamy floating unreality list.

So situation normal and my head is already feeling better.


Lost count already

I suppose I should start writing lists. Things to cancel, things to do, what to keep and what to discard, timelines…

It’s far easier to write lists than it is to do maths. I spectacularly failed in my task this week, which was to work out exactly how much I can save per month.

After a hysterical moment involving a missing grand, I’ve decided to put ‘an amount’ aside and if I go over drawn, it’s too much; and if I end up buying champagne at the end if the month, it’s not enough. Clearly I’m a modern day Ms Micawber.

I just hope I don’t lose count of how many lists I’ll need…or how many glasses of fizz I’ll have polished off whilst writing them.