Tag: thoughts

Nothing much to write today. I just wanted to get the ball rolling again and so I’m just testing the waters. Getting a feel for things again.

No plans on what I’m going to write

Then again, people who used to read this blog would always tell me they were usually the most intimate pieces of writing I had, when it wasn’t planned.

How do I feel?

Let’s start there. That’s usually pretty juicy.

I notice sadness, anger, relaxation, quiet, some fear too. In bed feeling tired.

The dream of emotions

Don’t you think it’s funny how when we describe what emotions we have, there’s a belief that there is actually a thing called anxiety, fear, happiness or sadness living inside our bodies?

Like some sort of separate entity that is alive in us. Or the sense of ‘me’, as Mikey, the real ‘me’ somewhere inside my body, probably in my head or between my eyes.

TBT men in black.

Great film.

Sorry to disappoint you. I told you this was a ‘go with the flow’ blog. If you think this is random so far, I’ve no idea what’s coming next.

Thankfully there’s no real thing called emotions in our bodies. There’s just thoughts and memories and hormones. Anxiety to you will mean something different to me.

What is it?

If its A Sensation, where is it? What’s the colour of it, the shape, texture?

Is it a memory? A story? A sense of yourself you feel? What actually IS this thing called anxiety or sadness or depression or happiness?

I have been writing a book on and off for the past 13 years. I’ve written about three different drafts and probably up to 100 pages. I’d like and I plan to write a book at least once in my lifetime.

My laptop has been broken for a while, but it miraculously started working again recently, so here I am again in all my vocabular glory (real word?)

I’ve just started bleeding from a cut on my face from shaving last night. I started shaving for the first time in five years recently.

It brings up a lot of issues I had around self worth much of which was related to appearance, so its a good practice

I do a lot of self enquiry. Have been at it quite intensely for the past seven years.

When I used to write this blog, a lot of the motivation was to feel accepted by people.

Problem was I wasn’t realising that the biggest rejector of myself was me.

Divorced, coma, three houses, boyfriend, actor, son, brother, elderly companion, party animal on and off, reader, landlord, Dad, ex nurse blah blah.

Still bleeding.

I recently told my agent I’m going to step back from acting for a bit. Things like that don’t get me going much at the moment.

the drive for a lot of things I thought made me happy are gradually burning themselves out (over the past 13 years).

Gym, acting, performing, making money, nursing, working, having lots of friends, being funny, projects, being liked, social acceptance – all these things take some degree of pushing for me. Something in me needs to ‘push’ to get them done.

Don’t get me wrong, I prefer if people like me.

But I also don’t mind if they don’t. And I shan’t push myself in the name of being liked.

why push?

Usually it was for some story, some promised pot of gold somewhere in the future.

‘Make more money’

‘Be happier’

‘Do well in my job’

‘Feel good about myself’

‘Be popular’

‘Be loving’

‘Be spiritual’

‘Be kind’

‘Be a good employee’

Nowdays it feels more natural to let things happen as they want to happen. With less agenda-infused pushing and manipulating.

That can feel pretty reference-less, pretty simple and empty. Sometimes it can be dynamic (After all, I’m certainly not sat around all day doing nothing).

At first I struggled big time. Now it’s becoming just what it is.

It’s not that I’ve renounced life. I’m just seeing how things I used to do to try and chase happiness don’t bring happiness. They never really did. I just imagined they did and called that happiness.

And I notice how my natural flow often got hijacked by my desire to push, have an agenda, to be someone or achieve something special. Then it became less about the natural flow, and more about the push.

My nursing journey is a prime example. My natural calling to serve others was hijacked by creating an identity around it. Where I needed to be the best nurse in the country, famous, improve the NHS etc.

It wasn’t wrong or bad …

But it made me miserable. Then I would hatch a new plan to escape my misery.

Without realising that before I chased happiness and then found misery in the first place I was already happy

Not all the time. That would be boring.

Happiness = the relinquishing of trying to be happy.

Are you happy? Fuck off. Stupid question.

Try: what idea are you chasing?

Buddha Jesus shiva god blah blah. Try: how was my cup of tea?

I’ve been miserable, I’ve been happy, I’ve been in despair, I’ve been on unimaginable highs and lows and all in between, long term readers of my blog will be familiar with some of the tales.

And funnily enough, in between moments of feeling like I was burning alive in hell, I often found peace

My heart still opened when I saw something that touched me. Some music. A film. A person. An animal. Even just a little bit.

I still laughed. I still had (and thankfully have) a fantastic sense of humour.

Those moments were enough, to make me realise I didn’t need to chase as much.

If I can find peace even whilst suffering, isn’t that better than chasing ideas of happiness?

Ultimately, the next step I need to take In life isn’t found in my mind, or my bank account, a book, the live the life you love wall hanging in Jackie’s kitchen or even a well meaning friend or relative.

It’s in the quiet. And it happens by itself when all that other stuff isn’t getting in the way.

Chasing happiness = unhappiness + discord.

Not chasing happiness = happiness and cord (is cord the opposite of discord?)

Well I think that’s it for today. Until next time!

Adieu