Nothing like a cheery blog post on a Thursday night 🙂 I thought I’d go straight for the jugular, although not literally, otherwise this post would be called murder. I guess this is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately (death, not murder). Today for example, my eldest wee niece turned 18 (Happy birthday!) which is wonderful, but I think about my Mum and the fact she never got to meet either of my fabulous nieces, and I know how much she would have absolutely loved them both to bits. So that is sad, but at the same time that’s just the way things go, and today is about celebration of life passing, which is more important. So as much as this post is about death, actually the whole reason I’ve been thinking about it so much is because what I’m really thinking about is life. Granted, ‘Life’ would have been a more catchy, happier title, but I like the dark side of life, so I went for the alternative.
I was lucky enough the other day to get the chance to catch up with a lovely friend I’ve not seen for nearly a year, and she asked me how I was feeling about turning 40. I was immediately about to say ‘fine!’ but then caught myself, as that’s not strictly true. As one day passes into the next, I swing from not being bothered at all, to wondering where the hell my life has gone, and OH DEAR GOD CAN SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THE CLOCK!!!!! Today I’m in a ‘not bothered yet contemplative’ phase. Honestly.
The upsides of course are that I genuinely feel a lot more comfortable in myself, and feel like I don’t need to pretend to be someone I’m not. I’m a very visual person, and I know I’ve talked before about seeing myself in a bubble, on my own, with everyone else in their own bubbles, yet with others in there with them. Now it feels as though the bubble has burst (without liquefying me, hurrah!), and actually I feel pretty open now to things I’d maybe closed myself off from before, or protected myself from, even if it wasn’t a conscious decision. I’ve started to let go of a lot of the physical, material crap that I’ve hauled around with me for years, because it suddenly isn’t very important to me anymore. What is important to me are my family and my friends. I know I don’t spend enough time with either, but this is something I’m trying to rectify. Looking after myself is also really important, and I’ve neglected to do that for a loooooong time, which is why I’m knocking my fifth decade on earth as fat as i’ve ever been (well, a wee bit lighter than that now, but still…. (insert pig smiley)).
So as much as I often think of death (possibly the result of starting to read crime fiction from the age of 12 when my Mum suggested I might like Ed McBain’s ‘Poison’, just out in hardback. Needless to say I loved it and he has remained one of my favourite authors throughout my life. Thanks Mum!!), I do so because it makes me appreciate the life I lead. I’ve been so lucky, and done so much with my life. I have a fabulous family, and luckily a lot of amazing friends (they say friends are the family you choose for yourself. Can’t disagree). I’m more conscious recently though that I feel like I’ve really dodged a lot of bullets in my life, and maybe shouldn’t have the health I do considering how little I’ve looked after myself. I think it worries me that I’ve left it too late, and despite best efforts I won’t be able to stem the tide rushing towards me anymore. Ridiculously, now that I have actually started taking some action, I feel more worried about being too late than I did when I was doing nothing! I am an idiot though, so this is just the sort of thing I’d worry about. It’s as though I’ve just suddenly cottoned on that life is the most amazing privilege there is, and wasting it is practically a sin. I can’t say I’ve wasted my life so far, not at all, but I’m determined to make the most of what is left. Let’s hope there is a lot of life left, but who knows.
To me, thinking about death doesn’t fill me with fear, it gives me purpose. Stops me from taking too much for granted. Reminds me of my place in this great big world. I find it comforting! I’m still a total wuss and the thought of physically hurting myself fills me with dread, but I don’t worry about it all ending. What’s the point? I won’t be here.
Anyway, onwards and upwards. Next week I start some personal training again, so looking forward to that. I’m loving my cycle commute to work, and I’m so glad I’ve started that now, and plan to keep it going. Next week my TV is also getting cut off. In typical me fashion, I’ve swithered about getting shot of my telly for MONTHS but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. However, in a fit of enthusiasm I called BT last week and told them to can my £5pm month TV package, because I didn’t need it! The guy must have asked about 10 times if I was sure, but I vowed I didn’t need telly in my life. Of course about 5 minutes after hanging up I was wondering what the fuck I’d done, but I’ve managed not to call back in a fit of panic to tell them I was just having a mental break. I may need to go and paint the odd wall in the flat, just so I can watch it dry, but I’m hoping that actually it will encourage me to get out and do other things, like exercise, catching up with pals etc., or even just read more, as I’m slacking on that front at the mo. So if anyone wants to buy a telly, let me know!
I’d keep waffling on, but I’ve got some TV to catch up on before next week! If you’ve got this far, please collect your (non-existent) medal and go drink some wine. I fully intend to.