Deeply Enganged in being in my thirties
otherwise titled, an unfocused thank you to F.Scott Fitzgerald.
There is not so much going on relevant to the men facet of my life. I have sprinted past some of the men hovering on the horizon, or just knocked them out of my stratosphere. And without regret or that sometimes hovering boredom one gets without the silly ego feed of having contact with a guy. It isn't always that I can have no play in this area and be content. But I am now, and very much enjoying the contentness of being me, who is not expending herself on managing guy presences. Actually, i am suprised and proud of myself. I am on a really nice plateau right now, without impetus to move. however....
A majority of the floors located in my brain are taken up with where to take my "career". I need to come up with an alternate word, one that does not connote company life ending with a watch and a pension, allowing the flexibility to be for one's own and not limited to any industry but the one encompassed in our self. Rather than career, I need a word that means the group of efforts that you employ yourself to do thereby creating income for yourself which in turn is used for food/clothing/shelter and to fund experiences.
I have done some investigating into the highly skilled migrant worker visa and there is a strong probability I will apply for it. The thought of being able to be more flexible about finding an enjoyable income stream is exhilarating and scary simultaneously. Scary because it means that the excuse to be nice and lazily wrapped up in this job, warm but suffocating, drops away. Nudity of the soul ensues. Who am I? Can I put energy where my bluster is? Am I as confident as I have been telling myself? Can I work through and past insecurities in an honest fashion?
Sigh….now entering an Era of lassitude. It is the way my mind works, to take paths down their course; and think about all the possibilities; and how I would feel; and what I would do; and making value judgements on things that don't even exist. Also called obsessive compulsive over analysis. I know millions suffer from this affliction, and this doesn't make me special. I have to rein my mind back in and virtually tell it to live here, and now. It is difficult to be Present sometimes, yet it is inviolable. But I find that it is easiest for me here in London, because I enjoy my life so much.
Footnote to today's blog. I am reading and rediscovering an author that I am only now fully appreciating. I am falling in love with his ghost but luckily he has words to read. F. Scott Fitzgerald. I am reading Tender is the Night. His work is amazing. His narrative pierces our social constructs and lays bare everything. Each sentence is imbued with such depth of comprehension of the human condition and how each of our souls interact with others that I am about to cry with the awe of it. That or because the fact that writing that sentance just almost made me cry means I am an idiot who is clearly pms'ing. Each generation must think that they take emotions and actions to the pinnacle where no human has gone before, and I am humbled by reading his interpretation of the politics of life and how they are the exact same in the 1920s, as now. His quotes are untouchable. In the theme of today's blog: "Genius is the ability to put into effect what is in your mind." And in the theme of my life, he writes that one female character is "deeply engaged in being almost thirty". I am deeply engaged in being in my thirties. Final thought, the level of his vocabulary is positively intimidating and each day I need to look up at least 4 words, some of which I have used in my latest blogs. So, really, it isn't you, its me. Apologies.
There is not so much going on relevant to the men facet of my life. I have sprinted past some of the men hovering on the horizon, or just knocked them out of my stratosphere. And without regret or that sometimes hovering boredom one gets without the silly ego feed of having contact with a guy. It isn't always that I can have no play in this area and be content. But I am now, and very much enjoying the contentness of being me, who is not expending herself on managing guy presences. Actually, i am suprised and proud of myself. I am on a really nice plateau right now, without impetus to move. however....
A majority of the floors located in my brain are taken up with where to take my "career". I need to come up with an alternate word, one that does not connote company life ending with a watch and a pension, allowing the flexibility to be for one's own and not limited to any industry but the one encompassed in our self. Rather than career, I need a word that means the group of efforts that you employ yourself to do thereby creating income for yourself which in turn is used for food/clothing/shelter and to fund experiences.
I have done some investigating into the highly skilled migrant worker visa and there is a strong probability I will apply for it. The thought of being able to be more flexible about finding an enjoyable income stream is exhilarating and scary simultaneously. Scary because it means that the excuse to be nice and lazily wrapped up in this job, warm but suffocating, drops away. Nudity of the soul ensues. Who am I? Can I put energy where my bluster is? Am I as confident as I have been telling myself? Can I work through and past insecurities in an honest fashion?
Sigh….now entering an Era of lassitude. It is the way my mind works, to take paths down their course; and think about all the possibilities; and how I would feel; and what I would do; and making value judgements on things that don't even exist. Also called obsessive compulsive over analysis. I know millions suffer from this affliction, and this doesn't make me special. I have to rein my mind back in and virtually tell it to live here, and now. It is difficult to be Present sometimes, yet it is inviolable. But I find that it is easiest for me here in London, because I enjoy my life so much.
Footnote to today's blog. I am reading and rediscovering an author that I am only now fully appreciating. I am falling in love with his ghost but luckily he has words to read. F. Scott Fitzgerald. I am reading Tender is the Night. His work is amazing. His narrative pierces our social constructs and lays bare everything. Each sentence is imbued with such depth of comprehension of the human condition and how each of our souls interact with others that I am about to cry with the awe of it. That or because the fact that writing that sentance just almost made me cry means I am an idiot who is clearly pms'ing. Each generation must think that they take emotions and actions to the pinnacle where no human has gone before, and I am humbled by reading his interpretation of the politics of life and how they are the exact same in the 1920s, as now. His quotes are untouchable. In the theme of today's blog: "Genius is the ability to put into effect what is in your mind." And in the theme of my life, he writes that one female character is "deeply engaged in being almost thirty". I am deeply engaged in being in my thirties. Final thought, the level of his vocabulary is positively intimidating and each day I need to look up at least 4 words, some of which I have used in my latest blogs. So, really, it isn't you, its me. Apologies.
posted by miss goLondon at 1:39 PM
3 Comments:
Scott Fitzgerald is wonderful, you've made me want to re read something of his. I think I'll go for The Great Gatsby.
This has now bben added to my to be purchased/to be read/ book list.
Re. Albertson's exec board, my guess is a female count of 'nil' or thereabouts... It's so depressing. Not that I would wish the fate of being a supermarket exec on my worst enemy anyway.
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