So it is the weekend again and I seem to only post on weekends these days and I happily write a post about how I've been making soups and juices and going to my yoga class and allowing myself the gift of time for myself. To read and write and go on walks and chase the sun sets. Needless to say, life is not this way usually, but I am very aware I make it sound somewhat idealistic when I write a post here. I think the meaning is in the fact that the only times I find I am able to write are the times when I am relaxed enough to permit myself to open up my blogger homepage and write about something that is for nobody else but me. I am not even relaxed now, but I am testing this theory out.
I did indeed go to yoga this morning, and it was Moor's birthday so I did enjoy tapas and wine last night, but I declined an invitation for coffee, declined an invitation to go running with a friend, and I came home and sat down with my essay plan and attempted to find some words. I attempted to find the words articulate and eloquent enough to summarise what might as well be my theory of life; my philosophy of what it is to be human, the development of human personality and my approach to therapy. This really is not as simple as it seems, although I don't think it sounds simple at all. I have now saved the document and am attempting to put it to one side for now, since I ended up knocking my candles over, spilling wax over my desk and books, and becoming a clumsy health and safety hazard I thought that was a sign to stop. How articulate can my writing really be if I am sat here spilling coffee and knocking candles over? No answer is needed...
I was ambivalent about this month starting - I saw this as the 'home-straight' - the beginning of the last leg. It is only the last leg of my course, but I didn't want to be thrown into it, I wanted to open the doors and turn the page of my calender in my own time. I wanted to choose this month, not to be thrown in head first and come crashing to the ground and then stumbling back to my feet. I didn't want to have to be articulate whilst stumbling over my plans. But I suppose that is life - I have to move forward and I have to trust myself to find my feet and let them move me. The month did indeed begin, and now it is almost over. I began this week in London doing a modelling job which is always my way of finding balance now. I find myself switching between different worlds but ironically that is how I find my feet. So I found my feet and I've arrived here now. Deciding to stop my work because if I don't know what kind of clumsy move I will make next.
Perhaps I shall continue this week to articulately stumble along. Perhaps I could take my supervisors words - it doesn't have to be perfect, just good enough.