Head space

I am spending way too much time with my own thoughts these days. It's driving me crazy. Did anyone say paranoia? No, really, did anyone? Really? I'm second guessing all my decisions as if I've suddenly become unable to be trusted. Booking hotels to stay at up North was a nightmare, because I just kept thinking 'Nah, this one's too (instert negative comment), and Phiroze won't like it.' Phiroze basically lives in hotels, so I wanted something that wasn't too...'hotelly', I wanted something with character. Now, I know Phiroze doesn't care at all where we're staying, he's just happy to be going somewhere fun with me. But I want to make sure he has the most fun possible. Normally I have no problems picking the right place to stay. One might say I have a nose for nice hotels. Our honeymoon was just perfect when it came to hotels with character. Totally perfect. (If you are visiting the UAE, Tuscany or the Provence here's where to stay if you want a terrific hotel with oodles of character: Al Maha resort in UAE (it's the best hotel we've ever stayed at, but we could only afford to go there because we could use our frequent flyer miles to pay for it), Villa Barberino in Tuscany and Hôtel du Poëte in Provence, oh and we also spent a night at Couvent d'Heripian in Langedoc-Roussillon)

But at the moment, it's pretty unstable up in my head when it comes to my thoughts. I'm not used to having my thoughts be so loud all the time, and them having the opportunity to interfere with my life all day. There's plenty of time to think when you're painting or sanding or washing down doors/windows to be painted. And there's very few conversations with friends for me these days, so my mind just broods on things. I have realised I am the type of person who needs lots of  other people around to feel sane. When it's just my brain and me, things get pretty wacky.

When I was getting ready to hop into the bath this evening (boy, did I need one - painting all day, up on the roof for half of it, plus being attacked by a pigeon by means of shit from above) I saw my mother out on the deck through the bathroom window. She was sitting in her favourite chair, with her legs up, looking around. My initial feeling was to go back down and join her, so she wouldn't feel lonely. But then I realised my mother doesn't get lonely. She actually really likes being by herself. People, in general, tend to get on her nerves. I know I get on her nerves. I know I can get a bit full-on. Specially the way I am right now - deprived of my usual conversations with friends.
Anyhow, both my mother and my sister are used to being alone, living by themselves, eating alone, pottering around their houses. They live their lives just the way they like it, with no interferences (nor sometimes help!) from anyone else.
Don't get me wrong, I am very content being alone right now - I love my husband to the moon and back, but I do appreciate the freedom I have right now. Though I wouldn't want to be alone like this all the time. I love having my hubby around at night, chatting together in bed, a snuggle and a private joke. It's lovely. But so is reading alone in bed with my iPod on until it's 1 am and I doze off. I like the fact that I can have both.

Truth is, I can have whatever I want. I know there is something up in the cosmos that grants my every wish. I know that by being this girl, this split-nationality, wordy girl, with the thoughts and the talking and the love of being with people, the laughs and the crazy jokes - I am being rewarded with ridiculous good fortune. I know that the more (good) I do, the more (good) I will get. I didn't know this as a teenager, that something (Someone? Several people? Spirit guides? Ancestors? Angel-type creatures?I like to think it's my grandparents and my aunty) has decided to have my back at all times. Or call it Karma. Whatever. If I had known life would be this good to me, I wouldn't have worried so much. To say it plainly, if I were to die tomorrow, I would die happy and grateful.

I do still worry. Can't help it. But it's kind of futile and silly. Just habit. Obviously I still get the dark moods that I was also blessed with alongside my good fortune. But I know now, and have done since my early twenties, that I will get through anything. Shit will happen. Big shit. (Bird shit, too, like today when a pigeon dive bombed a massive spray poo onto me and even got my mother sitting a meter away from me. We laughed so hard) But I know I will make it through. There is shampoo in this world. Actual and figurative shampoo, to wash that shit out of my hair.

I have become very level headed. Sensible. Not as fickle as I used to be. Not as torn by emotions. As a younger person, I used to get super caught up and feel things really intensely. Sadness and longing to a point where it hurt. I once was in love with this guy (he was in Australia while I had come back home after my initial trip) and I used to miss him so intensely that I could almost project him next to me at any time. He would flicker next to me like a broken tv. I would see him, feel him, he'd be almost right there. Almost. And I would long for him to really be there. It would hurt that he wasn't. It hurt in a beautiful way. I could write and write and write those days. Words came gushing out of me quicker than my tears. It was inspirational to be so messed up. I needed that boy to love me cause I didn't love me. Love had to come from outside me, and everything outside me I couldn't control so it was always torture wondering if I was worth anything.

But now, I don't have that longing any more. Because, I don't need anyone that much. I got me and I love me. I am super girl - check me out nannying 11 kids, or climbing up onto a roof to paint the dormer windows, organising other people's houses with skill and drive. I am a fun and loyal friend, a reliable employee, a loving, supportive wife and daughter, someone who does stuff for others with love and laughs. I know to my very core that I am a good person. I know I make mistakes, but I always learn from them, and my intentions are always good. Plus I got my cosmic ghosts looking after me. I don't get so insecure any more. But words don't come as easily any more, either. I really need extra impulses and inspiration to feel the words flow.

Music really used to inspire me. Totally. Lyrics spoke of my very feelings, and songs were all about me. I would sing along and feel that those words were mine, and I couldn't believe someone had managed to put them together just in the way I wanted them. There's a song called Such Great Heights by The Postal Service (seriously good music, you MUST get their album 'Give Up' and listen to it, you will love it and never tire of it)
and it starts with the glorious lyrics 'I am thinking it's a sign, that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned. And I have to speculate that God himself did make us into corresponding shapes, like puzzle pieces from the clay'. I love those words and the romance they evoke. But I don't believe them any more. It's kind of sad. But I know there is not one perfect match for every person on this planet. There are tons of wonderful people on earth, many of whom I could love very much. I do not think that if I hadn't met my husband, I wouldn't one day meet another man that I would love and perhaps marry and be very happy with. I am glad that I did meet my husband, though. And we are a really fantastic match. He complements me in a way that is amazing. He's the earthly angel that also always has my back. His love and support for me has no boundaries, and it frees me to be myself, complex and split-nationality little me. If I wanted to dance, he would provide me with music, dancing shoes and an enthusiastic partner, if I wanted to quit my job, spend several month sorting out my mother's place in Holland and go back to uni, he said 'honey, if that's what makes you happy, then do it'. Now, that is one hell of a life partner. But the freckles in our eyes are not mirror images nor do they align perfectly when we kiss. But we both love the song, and each other. So that's pretty great.

At the moment I'm feeling pretty inspired by the book I'm reading (I'm kind of ashamed to admit it's Eat, Pray, Love because I tend to have a massive prejudice against best sellers endorsed by Oprah and celebrities, which are then turned into movies, but Mum had it around the house and I quite like it) and also by music that my sister has put me onto by Jamie Woon - both of which I enjoyed this evening in the bath. It was fabulous lounging in the bath with music and a book after all the hard work. But now it's way beyond my bedtime and I should really head upstairs. Goodnight. x