Spoilt

It is natural to strive for more in one's life. But when must we stop and accept that what we have is more than enough?

Take for example, a typical conversation between two friends. One complains that they have to work one hour extra that day. The other sympathises and relays her own story about how she has to cook and clean for herself that night. How laborious. I stop to think that if this conversation were taken out of its context and placed in a completely different situation, each person's complaints would seem trivial and irrelevant. For example, if these were two professionals conversing whilst in a third world country, or on a battlefield of war, their previous complaints would be blessings!

When do we stop and be content? Why is it so difficult to appreciate what is right in front of us. I have a great life. I am financially stable, I have a flexible job, I have a great lifestyle, I have a long term partner. Why do I take chances and risks that jeopardise that? Why do I strive for something more? Will I ever be happy with what I have or will I keep doing things that give me that "rush", that satisfy my immediate needs but then quickly fade?

I am spoilt. I should be grateful for what I have. I am one of the lucky ones in this world and I should not want for more.

City vs country

I want:

- to have more clothes, preferably designer

- pure indulgence in Europe

- to dine at Michelin star rated restaurants

- a house, one in a wanky suburb that borders the river

I want:

- more basic clothes that I am comfortable in

- to travel to base camp of Everest, to do volunteer work in underprivileged countries

- to buy Mum a tv, to send Mum and Dad on a trip to New Zealand

- I want to cook good wholesome food with organic ingredients

- a house, on a large block in the hills

Ever since I was young I have believed that I am a caring person. I swore that I would also try to help others whichever way I could, whether it be my friends, my family, strangers. 40 hour famines here and there, volunteer work here and there. I did this with limited time and limited money.

Now that I am finally earning money fulltime, I am afraid that I have lost sight of my childhood aspirations. When I lived in Perth, some of the people who I associated with valued material things too much. They talked about what clothes they wore, how much their car was, had a list of the suburbs that they wanted to live in. When I first moved to the city, I never fitted in with these people. I was a country girl from a country family. "Simple and cheap" was how my family taught me to live my life. The majority of those in my course were part of the "elite Western suburbs" world and thanks to my dynamic personality, I changed to fit in with them. Not completely of course, but enough to talk about designer labels, Michelin star rated restaurants, infinity pools next to gorgeous houses in acceptable suburbs. This world fascinated me and soon enough I was starting to want all of those things too. But then, the luxurious lifestyle these elite pursue started to lose its lustre. Once the glittering facade faded away, I saw through all their conversations for what they really said:

"I prefer to spend my money on restaurants that the rich can only afford to go to."

"The only interest I have in clothes is whether or not they are expensive, so that people can see that I can afford them."

"I am in debt but I have a ridiculously expensive car because it makes me look good when I drive it"

"I really don't like my neighbours but at least I can say that I live in the Western suburbs!"

"My partner and I aren't that interested in each other, but he has money! And he's got a successful career. Why spend time with him when I can spend his money?"

I was horrified. Was this the person I was becoming? Would I too only dine at top rated restaurants, drink wine that I didn't like, refuse to shop at any store less than designer, drive a car that put me in enormous debt, live in a suburb that judged me as soon as I walked out on the street, marry someone who was successful, handsome and rich but didn't make me laugh and probably had someone else on the side?

A conversation with a friend encouraged me to take a good hard look at myself and the sort of person I was becoming.

"When I move back to Perth I can't wait to buy a house"

"Where?"

"Hmmm a unit in an inner city suburb? I'd love to buy a big block in the hills though"

"Really? I saw you as more of a City Beach girl"

"Is that how you see me?"

I escaped. I remembered what my parents had taught me and I yearned to get away from the city snobs. I moved back to the country. Here I am surrounded by people who will look at you if you are dressed in more than shorts and tshirt, who announce their form of elitism through drinking, camping or fishing stories, who have no idea what Tiffany's is, or what degustation means. They are happy. I am not trying to paint an idealised picture of a quiet life in the country. Of course there are those in my town who earn MORE money than those in the city and who like to indulge every now and then. I think that is the perfect balance. I am ever striving for a good balance of the "city me" vs "country me". The main thing is that I should do/say/buy whatever makes ME happy, not what others perceive as happiness.

Give and take

I have come to a crossroad.

On my left is a reversion to my life in a committed relationship, back to the place he (and I) call home, back to the routine, back to my friends, back to adjusting my life to accommodate a relationship. Alot of give and take.

On my right is the complete opposite of the above direction. No more commitment to someone else. Completely selfish fulfilment, satiation of my own wants, my own desires without having to consider anyone else's feelings.

Or straight ahead is the same path I am taking at the moment. Perhaps neither here nor there, caught in a limbo of a relationship that is waiting for the future. This path is a dangerous path, not as well maintained as those on my left nor my right. It means continuing on with my plans whilst trying to make someone else happy as well.

I could always try going in the same direction, hoping that the potholes won't completely ruin my journey, hoping that I will eventually come to another crossroad when I am ready to turn in a direction. The risk of that is coming to:

A dead end.

What is love? (Baby don't hurt me)

What is love? I always thought that love is the selfless want for others to be better off than you are. 

Now that I am older and wiser, I know that love means caring for someone and hoping for their wellbeing. I love all my friends. I am the type of friend that wishes that they would all do well. I am also the type that wishes my acquaintances well too.

The problem is, there is a fine line between friendly, platonic love and the romantic love that fills the movies and popular songs. I care for someone. Does that mean I love them? I think it does. As I said, I love all my friends. Do I love them all in the same way though? I am not sure. I once read an article in one of those superficial magazines (cosmo, cleo, whatever) about a woman who used to date many men at once. She paralleled her experiences with men to those with friendships. "You never have one friend do you? You have friends that have different interests that you call on different occasions, depending on what you are doing and what suits them". I always thought that article was bullsh*t but now that I think about it, I reluctantly admit that it may apply to those I love. Friends, family, etc. 

Love encompasses all types of relationships. The problem is defining the line. 

We are all made of scars

I've recently been reflecting on the impact that others have in one's own life. A friend gave me a gift which bore the words "There are those people who come into our lives and leave an impression that stays with us forever. You are one of those people. Thankyou"

I've treasured that gift and that saying. I believe that it applies heavily to relationships too. When I was in high school I experienced the rawest emotion of love that tends to happen in one's teenage years. I used to think that relationships could be like friendships, that when a friendship ends or grows apart, I would not think about it, nor lament about it later on. 

Now that I am older, although still young, I have experienced my fair share of love and heartbreak. My views on relationships and love have changed, perhaps moulded by experience and the cynicism which I've developed from such experiences. I often hear stories about people who go through painful divorces but then find another loving partner when they are 50, that they stay with for the rest of their lives. I used to marvel at the ease that they moved on, used to question whether they really loved the previous spouse or not? I would also wonder how they could love another person so wholly? 

I understand more thoroughly now, that they have not stopped thinking about the previous person, they have just simply moved on. It's as simple as that. You can pause for a moment, then move on. Move on? Doesn't that mean that the past relationship meant nothing? No, it just means that instead of wishing for a future, instead of lamenting about the past, they are ready to experience a new future with someone else. 

One of my fears is that I will regret breaking up with a partner, or regret giving a possible relationship a chance. I fear regret. That means I find it difficult to let go of relationships. I hold the belief now that every relationship someone has have is like a scar. It doesn't hurt like the open wound of continuous fighting. Most of the time we don't even acknowledge that it is there. But every now and then we catch sight of a scar and we remember...We remember how it came to be there, we remember the story before the scar, the pain of the wound and how it slowly healed and became something of the past. I believe that relationships are like that. I don't think people ever truly forget those who have impacted so heavily on their lives. 

This is why I'm afraid of letting go. I don't want to be one of those people who lament for what might have been. I don't want to regret the decisions that I made. I want to move on and remember the good times but not WANT them anymore. Part of accepting that people are like scars means accepting that I will always think about those that have played an important part in my life, for many years to come. This is fine but, the unfortunate curse (and sometimes blessing) of being a highly emotional person is that the memories unlock associated emotions. I want to remember without wishing, without feeling the pain, without feeling the happiness. The happiness is the worst. It is the happiness which projects myself to another time and space where the realities of the moment are blurred by the misty haze of a romanticised memory. The happiness is always followed by regret. I don't want to regret! If only I didn't, I would have more courage to move on.

I want to heal without a scar.

To sleep, perchance to dream

Ok so this post doesn't have much to do with suicidal thoughts. Cos that'd make me an emo :-P

I am one of those people that needs generous amounts of sleep. 8-9 hours is what I need every night in order not to feel tired or fatigued the next day. Each and every one of us who has been a student in a particularly hectic course has tried to cheat our need for sleep. Each of us has tried to study/work/attend uni with minimal amounts and usually failed in our attempts to achieve maximum performance. I remember most of my university days cursing my body's need for sleep. I remember many conversations joking about inventing a pill that equated to a few hours of sleep. "Wouldn't we be rich from that! No need to sleep anymore!"

So why DO we need sleep? It seems like such a silly concept. For the body (and mind) to require a complete shut down for a third of the day. Is it because we need a rest period for our brain to process and catalogue all that we did during the day? I think it has much more to do with the mind resting than the body. It's funny how biological beings require rest to perform better. However, with something like a car, it will run for longer kms if left running (eg like the cars used for taxis) than being turned on and off again continuously. I guess if we stayed awake all the time, the mind wouldn't be able to keep up and short circuit or something. But then wouldn't that be a flaw of design? Why not have a brain that can actively process and put away concepts and thoughts whilst we are awake. And it's not like our brain isn't active during sleep. We dream. 

I dream alot. I dream of random things. REALLY random things. From buying chicken wings and juice on special (so that I open up the fridge and wonder where I put them? Nope must have dreamt about it!) to dreaming of being a young Chinese girl in a war torn country. I find that my dreams are in colour and I can remember in great detail. One dream I had, I could remember flicking through pages of a clothes magazine. It's amazing to think that my mind CREATED this magazine, the format, what the model looked like, what position the model was in, the clothes the model was wearing, the font that the descriptions were written in. And sometimes when I wake up I can remember the smells in my dream, or even the taste. 

One of my friends told me that he hardly dreamt at all, or if he knew he did then he wouldn't remember them, let alone them be as vivid as mine. They say that vivid dreams indicate that you have a creative mind. Now it would be good if I could harness this for my art!