I have a dream…
So big news — Reneigh is moving out (of her house on my Animal Crossing island, that is)! This is huge news, a feat I couldn’t achieve last time around so 2022 is already looking up and it’s only the 14th of January.
I signed up for some more volunteering work today because I’m not satisfied, generally speaking, with how I’m living my life. I’ve won the love lottery and where I live is ace, all my ducks are in a row there. But the actual living part — the, 'What are you going to do with this ridiculously finite time you have on earth?’ part is left wanting.
When I was booted out of home as a teenager I had to grow up pretty fast and as part of that I was resolute in my desire of wanting to write. Expression through the written word is the book that fits the best. I’ve kinda ended up in the data world since I graduated, and as much as I love spreadsheets, it was definitely not part of the plan.
There’s a lot to say, important stuff. Not just the stream of consciousness this blog represents so far. I’m in a position to really work on writing becoming my career, something that I could ultimately be known for. The terrifying part is putting one foot in front of the other.
So far: I’m struggling to leave the house, not nap through the day, do basic housework, brush my hair. Things that people in their late twenties should be incorporating like muscle memory by now. I know that might not be the case in reality for a lot of people but I find it so frustrating that the drive I once had drove off and left me.
I will talk about my herb garden efforts and my moor walk specimen jar at some point I promise (the herbs are doing well, but peppermint and sage are yet to make an appearance, coriander is an overachiever at the moment if anything). Right now though, I want to use this particular moment in time to consider the daunting prospect of getting my shit together.
It makes for ominous reading on LinkedIn to see confessions of highly successful professionals about their imposter syndrome and their, 'You never feel like you’ve made it' speeches. Whilst written to be encouraging, I’m already putting on my pyjamas to bury myself under the covers in resignation.
At this point, I should probably mention what has motivated me to volunteer (further...I’m already volunteering at a soup kitchen type thing once a mont). Volunteering provides clarity and focus, and refills the heart with hope; a substance so often drained by revenue-generating headlines of doom.
The great thing about what I’ll be doing, befriending, is that I get to be kind and help make a positive difference without there being any concern for ulterior motives or anxiety about motivations. I’m there simply to help folk and they are there to receive it. It’s a beautiful thing. It was one of the few redeeming things that got me through my master’s degree alive.
Taking some time to remove my head from my bum and focus on others will also hopefully kick-start some of the self-care routines I need to work on my bigger life goals, such as writing.
I think I like marketing within the public sector as a base sector to build my foundations, but eventually I want to be seeing my name, along with illustrious titles, on the covers of hardback books. It’s a dream but I’m increasingly of the opinion that everyone should have one, and if one falls apart it’s okay to dream up a new one. Everybody has that right.
Tomorrow is laundry day, and actually it’s probably going to be a weekend filled with doing shit I should have done days ago, but it’s definitely a good idea to get your house in order (literally) before taking that first brave step up Dream Mountain.
Yikes, I’m going to need one hell of a Kendal mint cake to make it to the top of this one.
