I emailed TV3 sports yesterday congratulating Sinead Kissane for doing her job well. Their reply was diplomatic but at least I got one. As I have posted here before, I am no stranger to the therapist’s couch. If there are themes to the sessions that I have agreed with my therapist then at the moment that is about trying to live more in the present time, to stop regretting about what I may have done and to realise that I cannot control the end result of ‘events’ in my life. Last week I got into a quick discussion over on English Mum’s blog about my state of mind. I promised her that one day I would blog about all of these kinds of headgames. Today is one of those days.
Yesterday Conortje was enthused enough to leave a comment on my posting and asked the question: wasn’t the Monkeysphere just like Christianity? Forgiveness, don’t judge, understanding etc. While the jury is out on that one, given my current job and my spiritually developmental state of mind, there is a need for theme here in this posting about living in the present. (My life does not have themes by the way but I am a sufficiently poor writer that for the purposes of this posting, that I have constructed one.) Living in the present for me might be read by you, a reader, as the following:
- I pull out of the driveway of the house and drive through the estate to get to the main road to join the traffic flow.
- There is little else on my mind but the execution of the manoeuvre to indicate left and join the traffic flow on Terenure road.
- The way the seat under me is uncomfortable – like I wouldn’t choose to sit on a seat like this at home, the radio is bleating something like “injustice in the world and at home, what is to be done…”
- The person who has just let me out on to the main road is driving a car and like me is travelling on her own today.
That’s all, there is not much else going on. The two thousand things to be done that day are not on my mind, neither is the fact that I left the house without putting the washing machine on. I didn’t do the other thing I wanted to do before I left either so that’s for later. Then I’m driving along Terenure road to turn right on to Templeogue road, and on and on and on in a series of present moments. When I drive along the m50, I can see it being left behind me on my rear view mirror; it’s still there but I am just not there, right now. I am in my car and the radio is annoying me, it goes off. That guy who cut in earlier, he’s a guy who cut in but in the grander scheme of things, I don’t care. It is almost as if there is an economy of emotional energy and I don’t have to spend it all on getting pissed about that and that.
Trusting that work will be in the same place as I left it last night is something that might sound all a little obvious but predictably as the days and nights, the swipe card let’s me in. Aren’t the trees here lovely? The office I have is still the mess I left it in last night. There’s not much else. I am here now. Typing this posting. There’s work to be done and it will be done. It is not as nice outside as it was yesterday. I have some colleagues who are socially awkward. Ah well, so am I.