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Mar. 27th, 2005 09:37 pmI want to send a big shout-out of gratitude to everyone who's showered me with wonderful music recommendations--I spent a lovely day today taking time now and then to listen to various cool new things. It's striking to me how thoroughly accustomed I've gotten to silence as the normal state of being chez Kat, and how much of an actual effort it requires to take in and process auditory input--it's rather like I have to reconfigure some of the cognitive circuitry, or something. Definitely a habit change, but I've decided that this spring is going to be all about the habit changes. The winter that is now (I hope) passing has felt like a time marked by death, loss, thwartedness, not just in my own life but in that of lots of people I know. But with the turning of the season I've started to feel this weird sense of big change impending, and (I hope) change for the better.
As trivial as it seems, the humdrum change of keeping the place cleaned up seems to have gotten established in my life, and continues to make a remarkable difference in my mood and overall sense of efficacy. It's like -- whoa, all of a sudden I'm no longer a slob! which gives me this somewhat wild-eyed crazed faith that I can change other stale old self-definitions and behavioral patterns.
Not all the changes are necessarily going to be pleasant, or entirely under my control; much potential weirdness impends at work (about which I should know a lot more this coming week). But one thing I can control is the tendency I've had these past few years to let sources of pleasure, things that enlarge my life, slip out of my hands. For a while now I've been in this sort of grey discouraged slogging space of oh, well, getting older, guess it's time to get ready to die, eh. Except, actually? Not. Unless I get hit by a bus tomorrow, or am cut down, wheezing and expiring, by the avian flu pandemic, I'll likely be around a while yet, and just as I am not, at 51, anyone much at all like the person I was ten or twenty or thirty years ago, so I need no longer be like the tired discouraged person I've been the past few years. Everything changes, and all that.
And thanks again, to everyone who's helped me out with the getting-music-back-in-my-life project. You are all wonderful people.
As trivial as it seems, the humdrum change of keeping the place cleaned up seems to have gotten established in my life, and continues to make a remarkable difference in my mood and overall sense of efficacy. It's like -- whoa, all of a sudden I'm no longer a slob! which gives me this somewhat wild-eyed crazed faith that I can change other stale old self-definitions and behavioral patterns.
Not all the changes are necessarily going to be pleasant, or entirely under my control; much potential weirdness impends at work (about which I should know a lot more this coming week). But one thing I can control is the tendency I've had these past few years to let sources of pleasure, things that enlarge my life, slip out of my hands. For a while now I've been in this sort of grey discouraged slogging space of oh, well, getting older, guess it's time to get ready to die, eh. Except, actually? Not. Unless I get hit by a bus tomorrow, or am cut down, wheezing and expiring, by the avian flu pandemic, I'll likely be around a while yet, and just as I am not, at 51, anyone much at all like the person I was ten or twenty or thirty years ago, so I need no longer be like the tired discouraged person I've been the past few years. Everything changes, and all that.
And thanks again, to everyone who's helped me out with the getting-music-back-in-my-life project. You are all wonderful people.