Time to Think
Last night I got a rare chance to sit down and do nothing. My family were all elsewhere and I had the house to myself.
Here was a chance to let go for a little while, to stop crowding my head with information, projects, problems and tasks. There's certainly enough to think about. Problems with neighbours, the need to move house, my mum's ongoing illness, the demands of having two young children, trying to be a good husband, keeping my job, two music projects with others (both of which mean a lot to me), my own musical ambitions, the desire to get better at photography and poetry, remembering to stay healthy and a seemingly inpossible attempt to play chess at a level that would alow me to beat a ten year old.
I'm well aware that if you swap a music project or two for something else this makes me the same as pretty much any other middle aged, middle class person in the western world. Poor me, indeed.
So, how did my attempt to let go of all this for a night, or a few hours, go? How did I spend this precious thinking time? I'll tell you.
I did the ironing, watched a cooking programme, played a guitar, recorded some music, wrote a tune, ate a curry, drank some wine, spent an hour with an Annie Liebowitz book of photographs, took some pictures, posted on Facebook and cleaned the bathroom.
Maybe tonight I'll lock myself in the garden.
Here was a chance to let go for a little while, to stop crowding my head with information, projects, problems and tasks. There's certainly enough to think about. Problems with neighbours, the need to move house, my mum's ongoing illness, the demands of having two young children, trying to be a good husband, keeping my job, two music projects with others (both of which mean a lot to me), my own musical ambitions, the desire to get better at photography and poetry, remembering to stay healthy and a seemingly inpossible attempt to play chess at a level that would alow me to beat a ten year old.
I'm well aware that if you swap a music project or two for something else this makes me the same as pretty much any other middle aged, middle class person in the western world. Poor me, indeed.
So, how did my attempt to let go of all this for a night, or a few hours, go? How did I spend this precious thinking time? I'll tell you.
I did the ironing, watched a cooking programme, played a guitar, recorded some music, wrote a tune, ate a curry, drank some wine, spent an hour with an Annie Liebowitz book of photographs, took some pictures, posted on Facebook and cleaned the bathroom.
Maybe tonight I'll lock myself in the garden.
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