On New Year's Eve, I went to yoga in the afternoon, as per, then ran worriedly to the Bio Markt afterwards, before it closed at 2pm, before finally pottering off home to chill out for the evening. I spent my time listening to music, chatting to my housemates and watching films in bed. The fireworks started erupting outside at around 7pm and seemingly didn't stop until about 3am, by which time I was fast asleep. Admittedly, I was kind of surprised when I spoke to people in the days following, as it seemed as though most had had a similar experience. I won't lie, I'm not in any way the binge drinking, drug taking, party girl I may once have professed to be. It's not an age thing, it's a 'me' thing and I am just happy in my simplicity these days. I really am.
Regardless of the night's lack of misadventures though, I felt an excitement in me that day, for what was due to come in the new year and I fell asleep happy and I awoke just the same, but, in truth, the first ten days of the new year have not felt quite like the most awe-inspiring start that I was hoping for. Currently, my relationship is in turmoil, my nights have been restless and my direction scattered. Oh 2015, I had such high hopes for you and in truth, I honestly still do. Not just because of a gut feeling, not least because my 2015/2016 Solar Return deems it so, but also just because I feel as though I have it in me to do great things this year.
Although, and this will sound entirely irrational, I think I genuinely have a fear of succeeding. I just get scared sometimes, I genuinely do. At times, when I know I'm on the cusp of making a breakthrough, I tend to find myself retreating a little, holding back, because usually, the struggle has been so long, so hard, that the possibility of finally reaching the completion of something, is almost somewhat terrifying in its unfamiliarity. A little like spending your life pursuing a dream, only to finally actualise it and then wonder what the fuck you're meant to do now.
It tends to be a little like the tide; I have these great moments of incredible, often over-whelming self-belief, only to then be wiped out by a disastrous wave of self-doubt and insecurity. Swinging wildly between "I can do this!" and "Oh shit, this is much harder than I thought it would be." Worse still, when in this fragile state of self-delusion, I find myself further absorbed into the vortex of the internet. My confidence and perspective lost to an unimaginable and endless stream of other people's lives and influences. Funny how you can feel so stable, so centred in your own uniqueness and then all of a sudden, in a matter of only a couple of clicks, you crumble to the ground with enough insecurity to sink a ship.
I think that's what's hit me the most lately, how little time I dedicate to the simple things and how much time I waste on a relationship with the internet. The latter does hold great merit, it really does. The people I've met, the things I've learnt, the doors it's opened and yet, there is a fine line between appreciation and dependency. Looking back seven or eight years, before Twitter and Instagram existed and Facebook was a fresh thing, my life revolved around book reading, discovering and being absorbed in new music, country walks, baking, chess playing, film watching. Now, I start to read a chapter of a book and find myself grabbing my phone before I've even reached the end of the first paragraph, just in case someone's updated something life-changing online.
When did this happen!? When did my existence become encased to such an extent within a faux reality! I mean, on the surface, I'm someone who enjoys and indeed, revels in my solitude; constantly traveling alone and enjoying my peaceful quietude at home, yet in reality, maybe that's actually a complete fallacy, because perhaps I just never realised quite how much I cling to the company of others, through the distance of social media. In fact, realising this made me want to shut everything down in a way, because, when you find yourself glued to your computer screen, wondering where the past four hours have gone, you start to think that perhaps you're wasting the preciousness of life, in its real state.
So, as the weather is grey and rainy, although, astonishingly warm for a January in Berlin and life feels a little on the slow setting this month, I have been making lists and redirecting my time and energies to far better things than my online persona. Namely of course to my first love - yoga, of which I have been perhaps slightly obsessed with this past week, but honestly, when you have nowhere better to be and nothing better to do, why not spend six hours at the studio! (Especially as Yellow Yoga have opened a second one over in Neukölln, which is like a Pinterest dream!) Plus, I have such a huge appetite and a history of mistreating my body, so it feels good to be giving it some love via yogi push-ups and gentle stretches. I really feel better in both my mind and body and I've been eating good, wholesome food like a horse and refusing to deny myself anything. Come the summer, I think I'll be thankful for this month of dedication.
Bar all the yoga and the food indulgences, I've returned to my love of discovering music, especially this track by Years & Years, which I currently have on repeat, reading my favourite book, The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets in bed by candlelight, which never fails to send me into a tizz, dreaming of 50's parties, with Louis Armstrong playing out La Vie en Rose and sipping hot chocolate at midnight (tries to stay calm whilst typing that) and indulging in some childlike meditation therapy, by way of my absolutely awesome new Mandala colouring book! Yes, I may be approaching thirty, but colouring in never gets old!
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