fear

Bloganuary Day 2 : Brave? Me?

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Today’s prompt is

How are you brave?

brave (adjective)
“ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage”

“having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear, or difficulty“

“showing no fear of dangerous or difficult things”

Let’s just set some context here. I am a middle-aged woman, living in a pleasant part of North West England, with little call to stray into “rough” areas. I had a comfortable upbringing, loving parents and supportive teachers. I was a well behaved child and teenager. Opportunities to be brave did not present themselves on a regular basis. They still don’t. This is generally a good thing, but I often feel that this might have made me soft. Lacking grit. Stuck in the comfort zone.

I have previously sought situations that put me outside that comfort zone:

  • rock climbing in my twenties;
  • learning to play bass guitar and gigging with a band in my thirties;
  • changing career just before turning forty;
  • opting for early retirement (although I did not realise how uncomfortable this would be at the time).

I suppose that these required some degree of bravery, but how about now? Do I rationalise a less daring existence as self-preservation? These days I certainly wouldn’t jump at the chance to scale Derbyshire grit outcrops, or play to a paying audience.

Have I made my final big lifestyle leap? Will I tread water until I am no more?

It’s interesting to consider the paradox of life vs. death. Surely, it is only by knowing that we have a finite time on earth that makes us feel alive, and drives us to really live. And does that imply that we need to be brave to achieve our best life?

But I digress.

Of the definitions above, I favour the second. It is broader than the others, recognising that bravery requires inner strength, and that it is not necessary to be demonstrative to be brave.

Being brave can be a very private matter, with no need for a badge or t-shirt. And this probably encompasses my preferred approach to bravery these days. Quiet perseverance in difficult times, rather than shouting “Tally ho!” as I enter the lion’s den.

So, that’s how I am brave.

More later,

Min.

Pleased to meet you neighbour, part 2

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Musings on a Comment

Sorry neighbour, but this one is about me, me, me.

In the final assignment from last week’s blogging101 course, we have been encouraged to blog further on a particular comment left as part of a previous exercise. In that exercise, we chose four+ blogs which we had not previously visited and left a comment.

One of my comments was at Words Like Honey  on a post Sweaters in Waiting

Such evocative photos of yarn. I have never mastered any form of knitting, but your call to action has me reaching for the sewing box….

And that summed me up. Or at least where I am at the moment, recently.

I hear a call to action…

and I reach…

I might even grasp…

And start to…

… but rarely complete.

When it happens, I might beat myself up (not literally) about yet another unfinished project – sometimes not even started.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

And then I mulled over whether this is a recent trait or something more ingrained in my character. And why might this be. The above proverb has been interpreted in a number of ways, but I think that you can see how I’m reading it.

This blog might seem a little self centred when it started with a reference to another blogger, but this is where my train of thought took me, and given that I at least want to complete this post, I’m sticking with it.

So, back to non-completion. Why? It could be any one of the following:

  • Lack of real intention
  • Procrastination
  • Too many commitments
  • Lack of skills or resources to complete the task
  • Laziness
  • Fear

I don’t think that I suffer from a lack of real intention. Previously I was  occasionally be guilty of the false acceptance of an invitation that I didn’t really want. I’ve just about given this up and learnt to say “No”.

Procrastination. I hope you don’t mind if we come back to that later. No really.

I do sometimes lack the skills or resources to progress sometimes. And I’m too bloody independent for my own good. I just do not like asking for help. That’s a whole topic in itself. But this blogging101 project has made me have to ask questions. Small steps, small steps.

Very few people would call me lazy, but I do feel that I don’t quite reach my full potential. Is that a form of laziness? Perhaps.

Which brings me round to…

Ah yes, fear, my old friend.  Fear has “guided” me on many occasions. The reunion invite I accepted, but I was too scared to attend because I worried that I wouldn’t live up to the achievements of others. The geocaching social gatherings that I am too scared to attend alone. The walk up the hill that I didn’t undertake in case it started raining. The unanswered question in the staff briefing because I thought everyone else would know and I would look like an idiot, or worse still an idiot who had not paid attention earlier.

And yet, I’ve stood up, played and sung my own words in front of that most critical audience, my peers. I’ve asked the question that everyone else wanted to hear the answer to, but were too afraid to ask themselves. I do talk to strangers, actually that’s a cheat because quite often you won’t see them again so you won’t have to know what they think of you. And at the last reunion invitation which I accepted, people found me and my life interesting (I was quite surprised!).

And yet, I’m always scared to be judged. Even if it means approval.

And of course, fear drives procrastination, if procrastination can be driven!

So what now? Is it all about fear? Fear of being judged? Fear of failure? Fear of what others will think?

A fellow blogger has written a post,  “four kinds of people on earth” , where he suggests that the most common type of person is the coward. Well at least I’m not alone!

Yours, going back behind the sofa for a while,

Min6

Why Am I Here? To Find Out?

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Blogging 101, Assignment 1, Introduction

What I’m looking for here is, ironically, difficult to put into words.

Hello, I’m Min and I have a problem. How to introduce myself.

In conventional terms I am a late forties, semi professional married woman. I have a cat (no children). I like the usual things:

  • music (fairly eclectic tastes, recently listening to Sibelius, Foo Fighters, Bjork, Brian Eno and 80s pop);
  • food (especially fish at the moment);
  • gardening (or so  tell myself, but the garden is currently a state, and I don’t mean Kansas);
  • geocaching (especially in spring and autumn);
  • wine (enough said).

Why am I here and doing this?

I guess primarily to express myself in a manner that someone, anyone, might enjoy or at least relate to. It’s definitely a form of therapy, and I expect that I will be ranting a few times.

It will give me an opportunity to express what the rules of society do not permit me to say to someone’s face.

But there will be joy and photos and silly stuff too. My life’s semi-rich tapestry hung up for all to see. And because nobody out there really know me. I don’t have to face you in the office tomorrow and explain my bad behaviour.

And I just want to leave something that I have created “out there”. I used to be in a band who mainly did covers, but we experimented and started to write our own stuff. This is where we fell apart. I didn’t like the sugar sweet input of some of the others and they found my stuff too bleak. It might sound arrogant, but I just believe my own work was better. So perhaps some lyrics will feature.

What topics will I cover? No restrictions. but probably mostly from the list of likes above.

And I hope that being here will introduce me to like minded individuals. There seem to be precious few about in my day to day existence (apart from my much beloved).

Anyway, I’ve been rambling, you’ve been kind enough to “listen”, and if I don’t stop now I’ll make myself late for work.

More later

MinG

On The Island, Day 4. Change of Plan.

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Day four started well with a promise of a walk to a vantage point near LLygwy Bay.

No navigational errors, only a minor amount of PLRs (P*ssy Little Roads), plenty of parking and a pleasant breeze.

All was well until we reached the bridge, then after I had taken a photo (not another one). I turned to ask Si what he could see. No response, just a slow slump which I am sure I will replay in mind for a long time to come.

He landed sat upright, and asked in a slightly strangled voice what was happening to him. I just told him he was alright, got him sat down and thank God that we had remembered the water this time. He was lucid, had no apparent tingling, no shortness of breath or chest pains. His speech (when he had come to) was clear and he was able to move.

We returned to our cottage and took it easy for the rest of the day. Later on a trip to RAF Valley to watch the Hawks – which thankfully put on a better show than on Monday afternoon – provided a well timed distraction. We enjoyed a bit of people and tie watching – I’m sure that a late 80s Next design was on show in the adjacent car.

It was only a brief faint, hopefully, which we have put down to dehydration. For now at least.

But it has temporarily changed the dynamics. I am chief driver, and Si gets the opportunity to take in the view (when he is not worrying about what happened, or my driving). The planned coastal path walks are on hold and what we do on return to home will still have to be discussed.

And in my mind, I argue with myself about giving in to fear, ignoring it, or facing it and taking control of your future.

Min6