travel, work

Dealing with commuter rage

I just had my first commuter rage since coming home from travels. A weird feeling and something not missed, but I think there’s a lesson here…

A crowd of people were waiting for a stand still trains doors to open. As they did I got swooped on into the open doors – people in front of me being pushed into my path by others squeezing in from the sides, people behind me stepping on the back of my feet, the angry man on the other side of me unable to get on with his bike because of all this. He was also the man I had to cut up to jump on the train as I was being pushed. I thought I’d get out of the way, not run for a seat, but stand near the toilets. Not the most pleasurable, but not as crowded. But the bike man got on – it seemed I was standing where his bike goes. Is there no where safe to be?!

I walked to the other side of the carriage and miraculously found a single seat. Ta da. Someone was looking out for me.

I realise that everyone just wants to get home, it is gone ten PM after all. Usually my bed time!

But the pushing, stomping and angry man rialed me.

No one really wants to be the angry man, stomping man, the pushing man or even the slightly pissed off woman. And I won’t. So there :p (deliberate sticky out tongue face).

And then. I got off the train. Watched people. Heard the hustle of everyday life. Got on to a tram. Looked out of the window as my changing home town went by me. And then. It was there. The moon.

In all that, I realised – while I thought it was harder to see beauty in the everyday hustle, I found it… Amoungst the very same hustle. People, noises, faces, places. The sky. The moon.

It’s all there for the taking. I just had to open my eyes.

Thanks for the lesson, world. I heard you loud and clear.

Mojo&Me xx

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happiness, home, house

Dreaming about a home

List all the things about your dream home.

Ummm… It’s home. It’s happy.

No, I mean what does I look like.

Ummm… It’s got me and you in it. Maybe a kid. Filled with friends and family from time to time.

Ok. I’m not sure you’re getting this. For instance, I love would love a garden.

Oh. Ok. Ummm. I’m not sure I have a lot to add to this. I’ve never really thought of a home in terms of aspirations. I’ve thought of it as a place of comfort and safety. All I ever wanted in a home when I was a kid.

Oh. I’m not sure where to go from here. I think we need a shared vision of what our home looks like but I don’t really know how to get you there…

My poor husband.

We want to build a life together, but any chat that implies plans longer than a year freaks me out.

Please, don’t misunderstand my reaction. I’m not a commitment phobe to you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to – and have been –  inspired by how you look at life and what it can be. Admittedly, I sometimes get on the ride and know that even if it’s one of those rollercoasters that make my tummy turn, I’ll go on and be safe because I’m with you.

I realise now that this isn’t enough. I want to proactively add to the vision of our life. I want to be the inspirer and the inspired who has a vision of what our life could be.

The weird thing is that I visualise our life during meditation. There is a house. It does have a garden, because we’re in it – happy – with a toddler running to our nieces and the family behind them.

I didn’t really think much beyond that, but when pushed I think I do have some aspirational things I like. These aren’t the things that drive me, but they have started to exist in my mind, the more we talk of what home is made up of.

• Rooms with lots of natural light
• Outdoor space
• A nice power shower, where the water doesn’t go cold
• Stereo sound. Admittedly I didn’t realised I liked this until I started to speak to you about it.
• A tumble dryer. Gosh, how very middle class. Washing is just easier then right?

Maybe there’s more but I’ve not unpicked it.

This list is strange for me though, please remember this.

For me, home will always be where you are, where I am and where happiness lives. If we achieve this then we’ll be living in my dream home. The one we built, not bought.

Mojo&Me xx

 

 

 

balence, career break, travel, work

Working 9-5: Dolly’s song and what this means to me

I feel like Dolly was on to something when she sang Working 9-5

Workin’ 9 to 5
What a way to make livin’
Barely gettin’ by
It’s all takin’ and no givin’…
It’s enough to drive you
Crazy if you let it

Hands up if you sang this in your head!

Anyhow, after a long career break having got married and traveled the world, it’s been a while since I worked. When I first came home I remember thinking how strange it was that I could only see my friends after work or the weekend. And because they have more than one friend, this often took ninja organisation skills to book in advance.

It was like being slapped in the face with a diary. You know, like those Filofax or planners you’d see Samatha with in Sex in the City – the one that showed how important she was because, well, she was busy. And people needed to know this.

In the digital world, the Filofax has been replaced with whatsapp groups or those online things where everyone needs to vote to see when is the best time for the most people to meet. Granted, I don’t have such big friendship groups that I need the latter and quite frankly would loose my will to live if I was an organiser in any group. I quite like spontaneity but realise that between work, family and hobbies, this isn’t always possible.

Fair to say, I am the one who wants to see people, but I also have small networks so usually meeting them isn’t too difficult. Well, that’s what I used to think before I went travelling.

Now I’m back I realise that this thing called work dictates when I’m free. It’s the overbearing five day long appointment that becomes the thing to organise everything around. Between about 6:30am – 7pm, I belong to work. Either getting ready for it, doing it, or getting home after it. That leaves me mornings (I wouldn’t inflict morning me on anyone), evenings (feed me and I’m yours) and of course the precious weekend.

As much as I love what I do, I am suddenly begrudging how much of my life it takes up. How much of my friends’ lives it takes up. How much head space I used to dedicate to it – even out of hours.

Funemployed let me get life admin done when everyone else was at work. Dentist and doctors appointments no longer needed negation with the boss. Banks are open at times outside of luchtime when ques reach the doors. Hair, waxing, eyebrows and all those lady like things that eat into weekends, evenings and lunch breaks were done when everyone else was in meetings, at their desks or dreaming about home time.

And that’s not including all the fun things. Museums, eateries, parks, tourist attractions – all had a low level humm to them during the week, conserving energy for the rush that will ensue at the weekend.

But alas, I realise now, I can’t have it all. I must work and want to for my mental sanity, the challenge and satisfaction it gives me. But I need to stay true to somethings:

  1. Work cannot take over my life. With sooooo much of your life spent at work, I don’t want to be someone who gives it even more. Even if I do work for good causes and this in itself motivates me to give every part of me and then some.
  2. In the long term, I must find a way to make a living that earns me money, makes me happy and has flexibility

I’ve changed since coming back from my travels. I know I have a dedication to the work I do, but I now have a dedication to my life. To growing it, to making it richer – not in money but in experience – and to giving it more variety and fun.

I’m putting this out to the world as my intention. I must stay strong to it, even as I complete my first week at work and am terrified everyday that I could fail.

But hey, isn’t there that old saying: If it scares you, do it. 

Only good can come of this. And I’m determined to give it a go. Dolly’s 9-5 didn’t seem that fun anyway. Not unless you were singing it.

Mojo&Me xx