Type 1 life adventures
CREATION. Don’t worry, my version is fig leaf free. I’ll expound on the word choice in a sec. But to embrace this year’s declaration, it’s become apparent that I first need to banish the following words: Stakeholder. Consultant. Policy. Strategy. Committee. Milestone. Engagement (with exceptions for fiancé finding usage).
In the gap since my last post I took on a 2nd job project managing bureaucrats, politicians and consultants (aka herding cats). Suddenly it was six days a week of work, VLine commuting, burgeoning office dread and benign neglect for Intrepid Tales on Insulin. Throw in my 40th birthday and a new housemate encountering her own major life transformations and it became impossible to ignore the gnawing, universe is telling me something sense that I was straying from the right path. We’re only half joking, convinced our house is perched on a ley line.
The first day of the work year heralded my resignation from the city job. I will truly go insane if I have to read another consultant’s report, sit in an office with no real air or shape a strategic plan playing buzzword bingo in my head. I need to be a casual, active, itinerant worker to give myself the headspace to create a new life.
This means putting this hiking/writing project first and fitting in work around these life plans, not the other way around, which seems to be the default social norm. Sure this is less secure, scary as hell and not exactly lucrative – but then that’s only if your barometer for measuring life value is the dollar. In truth, I have been triple guessing and shitting myself about how this will work. But I’m more concerned about how crapola I’ll be if I don’t change things and I end up with the same old, same old rat race conundrums.
So the fear is being faced. Buying gear. Scheduling trips. Making it happen. Creating it. Prioritising creativity over cerebral. Recreating myself. Creating nourishing life in the garden. Active, not reactive. Creating opportunities. Creating energy by getting rid of the stagnant stuff.
The witnesses to my talking out loud declarations and justifications on 1 January 2014 were the kangaroos and echidna at Bald Hill, where I took my new beaut digital SLR out to pop its cherry. Just another of those close to home spots I’d never been to and which proved itself to be the perfect ramble about in drizzle restoration that I needed.
So, the life lessons keep on coming. This month’s incidental diabetic lesson is to check to the core of the fillet mignon before you shoot up, return the plate of raw cow to the hotel kitchen and have to wait for edible food to return. Emergency stash of potatoes to the rescue.
Aagh, it feels good to blog again. Weekly IToI posts (at a minimum) will now resume. And you can stay tuned for these following monthly activities to come: