From BoJo To Mojo: pathetic and positive progress at the same time
On those grey, rainy days we have the opportunity and a choice to move forward, however big or small the step.
I’M writing and I’m not even sure what about. All I do know is that it’s raining (again!) and if I was in a movie right now the pathetic fallacy would be in full swing if I was a) mourning the loss of a loved one b) worrying about losing a job or c) terrified at the thought of a Bojo/Farage PM share (ooh, that one just slipped in, naughty me. From now on this will be a BREXIT free zone. Promise).
That sense of stagnation, apathy, general sadness. Here it is, sitting with me. Hello old ‘friend’. And perhaps that’s part of the problem?
For years (and it shows in my body shape!) I have sat in my problems, my low moods, my angst, my tears, my fears (80s pop group anybody?), my moodiness, my worries. I’ve sat in my troubles.
Forgive the visual, but I’ve sunk down into that big, dirty nappy. Who cares if it stinks? It’s mine, right?
I’ve not only dipped my toe into that big stinking cesspit of negativity, way too many times I’ve gone for full submersion. It’s become my comfort zone.
Well, I’ve not only dipped my toe into that big stinking cesspit of negativity, way too many times I’ve gone for full submersion. It’s become my comfort zone. Not exactly somewhere you’d want to ‘take a break’, not even a mini-one at that, not even for a vat of (vegan) chocolate, a Gentleman Jack (my wife, of course) and a lifetime of free trips to the cinema.
That stagnant pond has been my home for years and I’ve bathed in it with a passion (well, not passion so much as that’s bordering on a positive feeling, and we can’t have that. The last thing we want is a pleasant ambience.).
I’ve pulled on the miserable face (looking remarkably like the adult version of Sadness, the blue girl in Inside Out. She even has my glasses!) and worn it with pride — or should that be despair? — nothing like a great big dose of despair to hammer home the miserable point.
Putrid pond dipping
So, today, whether it’s the weather, the political landscape, my dog’s lumpy head (she has a cyst, which is okay as I’ve had it checked by the vet), England women’s upcoming World Cup game and their chances (yes, really) or my next Couch to 5K adventure (happening again shortly — eeek!) I’ve been in the doldrums.
I’ve dipped my toe back into that pond, then a foot and, briefly, been up to my waist in yucky water. And, for a while, I kinda liked it. The shitty surroundings weren’t really that bad, were they? There’s an admission.
It’s only while writing this, right now, in this moment, that I have decided I don’t have to like it. Not even if it brings all that wonderful secondary gain. This is no way to live, to love, to experience life in our earth suit for the short time we’re here.
In fact, I have the opportunity — and the ability — to positively push all these negative feelings away. My choice. There’s always choice, however unpalatable or challenging that choice may be.
So, now, in this moment, I’m making a change. A POSITIVE change. I HATE that stagnant pond, especially the smell that emanates from it. It’s nearly drowned me on numerous occasions.
So, now, in this moment, I’m making a change. A POSITIVE change. I HATE that stagnant pond, especially the smell that emanates from it. It’s nearly drowned me on numerous occasions. It’s got into my nostrils and that’s never good. It’s like the smell when you’re on canine toilet duties, only 100 times worse.
The pond’s stagnant ‘sexiness’ may be doing its best to reel me back in today, calling me, luring me to jump back in at the deep end, but I’m not going.
Making the write choices
So, what can I do to put a stop to this putrid pond life?
Well, my first and only thought was to write. So, here we are. THIS is the result. Writing with no beginning, no middle, no end (an absolute ‘no, no’ according to some writing ‘experts’) and yet that’s where I am right now.
If you’re still reading, despite all the miserable metaphors, angsty alliteration and poor poo references, thank you. ;o)
Next step. Change into my ‘running’ gear (telling those little negative nelly voices and that pongy pond to do one) and just get out and about, listen to the encouraging and sometimes ‘annoying’ tones of Sarah Millican as she tells me ‘you’re doing well, pet’ or something like that, and continue on my quest to be more of a 5k than a Couch girl. I love it when Sarah tells me to go have a banana. It tells me Job done, I’m ALIVE. I’m just a few steps further away from that soul-sucking couch.
Where’s YOUR pond?
So, where’s the stagnant pond in your life? Maybe you don’t have one. Perhaps you’ve found your own purifying tablets to turn the murky waters into motivation and mojo. How did you do it?
Oh wait. The sun’s shining. Really it is. You couldn’t make this up. And I haven’t. After all that rain, the sunshine’s finally arrived.It always does…eventually.
Now, I’m smiling at:
a) the familiar and oh so comforting sound of fast tapping fingers on a keyboard
b) the excitement that comes with a new business idea that rocks my world and hopefully will rock yours too
c) the thought of a relaxing weekend with wifey and a cuddle or 20 with my furry family.
It appears that now I’ve found a new pond with calm, clear water. It’s going to take a while to get used to, but it’s clean and it’s mine.
Asha Clearwater is an NCTJ (National Council for the Training of Journalists) qualified journalist who’s been a news reporter, features editor and arts editor, as well as editor of several national business magazines.
Today, through her business Turquoise Tiger, she coaches SMEs on the art of great storytelling to promote their products and services.
Asha occasionally freelances as a writer for national magazines and is even behind some of the information boards you’ll find strolling through Woodland Trust Forests.
She is also curator of TEDxPeterborough. www.tedxpeterborough.com
