Author: Chiromancer

Thinks she should give up self improvement in pursuit of vices.

Sea fret…

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As Autumn magnificence fades into the melancholy of Winter, we’ve been treated to the most stunning fog here in the coastal reaches.  Soft tendrils of grey wrap the landscape, softening hard edges and blurring reality. It’s hard to see which way you are meant to be going.  Which is rather apposite, since I find myself wandering in the kind of limbo that only ever afflicts the sure-footed in times of flux.

Poised between two worlds – I’m finalising my affairs in the UK, in preparation for a move to the continent – I feel…fog-bound. Tied to a spiritual sea fret.  It’s hard to see which way I’m meant to be going.  I find myself in a new reality. All blurry edges and deeply confusing. Of course, I put this down to a mammoth ‘to do’ list which is just on the wrong side of overwhelming. As someone who is very work-orientated, I’m not so good at ‘down time’.

Although changing everything is a big step, it’s no leap of faith. I may not be sure footed at present, but I am sure about the love that beckons like a lightship from across the Channel.  Light is the best cure for fog. And love is the best cure for loneliness.

Passport…

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Sometimes, you have to travel far to find yourself.  This year my journey has led me to France, Spain, cross-Channel – and back – for love; to Switzerland and Italy for work. Have passport, will travel!  Actually I have three, but if I told you why, I’d have to kill you…

Those who know me well, know I have a restless heart. Routine bores me! And yet I crave stability. Rules annoy me!! And yet…I crave order. Travel excites me!!!…And yet…

The more miles I racked up, the further I found myself from the people I love.  And even further away from myself.  Business travel sounds glamorous, until you find yourself decanting your suitcase every Sunday evening, only to fill it with security-compliant sized moisturizer and shampoo. Kissing your lover goodbye, knowing that more than a time-zone separates you. Unable to meet friends for a drink after work because you have to get up at the crack of dawn to catch the red-eye to where-ever!

Enough said.  And enough. My round trip has brought me full circle. Sometimes the best adventures are to be found in your own backyard.

The Year of Living Dangerously…

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I’ve never considered myself a daredevil. I’m no coward, but as I get older, my sense of self preservation prevails over my sense of fun.  The realisation that if I break myself, I shall be unable to work is probably a more powerful incentive than wanting to show off my hell-raising skills.  Well, on occasion I have been known to channel my inner vixen on the dance floor, but that is the subject of another blog entirely!

For this reason, I tend to avoid hobbies like base jumping, snake charming or dancing the cha cha on the wings of an aeroplane. This year, I decided life would be a little different. Having laid out my annual manifesto in my Burning Woman post, I concluded that unless I learned to live dangerously, life would stay predictable. So…I took a risky decision. I dared to chance it all on love.

Which is why I now find myself commuting by ferry, celebrating Christmas in two countries, and generally leading a life I thought was well beyond the reach of one so resolutely single. Stepping up – and out  – of my comfort zone has been scary and exhilirating.  Kinda like dancing on the wings of an aeroplane. But you know…50,000 feet up, without oxygen…feels less like something life-threatening and a lot more like something lovely.

This festive season, I wish my family, friends and dedicated readers of this blog as much love, light and laughter as they can handle. Merry Christmas!

Future Perfect…

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Admittedly it’s been a while since I’ve blogged. After a prolonged period of down-time (see my post ‘The List‘ ) I’ve been spending the last few months doing some serious job-hunting and hopping across the channel to visit the Belgian. He’s fabulous. Has own hair and teeth. Tick. Cooks. Tick. Gardens. Tick. Gardens in my garden. And no, that is not a euphemism, he really did spend last Saturday digging up weeds in the coastal reaches…High IQ. Big tick. Romantic life is better than good.  Business life…erm, not so much. Faced with a looming tax bill and zero prospects of employment despite winning an award for my work, I’ve found myself in some sort of weird limbo. Being myself, and yet…not quite being myself. What gives?

The work I do means I should expect between 3-5 months between assignments, and under normal circumstances (i.e. sans tax bill) I’d be perfectly chilled.  Well, as chilled as a ‘control-freak Virgo’ ever gets, but you know what I mean.  If you aren’t worried about your finances, you can exist in a pink cloud. Curiously, I’ve found myself suffering all manner of insecurity around my professional capability of late. Which, if you really analyse it, is stupid. Completely dumb, especially as I’m a smart cookie. I’ve spent seven years building my business. I’m established. I have clients who rate my work and would recommend me in a heartbeat. What gives?

It’s got me thinking… If the consequences of today are determined by the actions of the past, how does one create a perfect future. Second guessing your decisions doesn’t work, believe me. And neither does second guessing yourself. Begone self-doubt!  Life is too short to peel a grape or knit a toilet roll cover, but it’s also too short to dwell on what might have been or what could be.  Nevertheless, we need to have some sort of vision for tomorrow, in order to make the most of today. And pipe dreams (mine is to sip cocktails in BoraBora) are an important part of helping us humans move beyond our perceived limitations to achieve great things.

I can, and I am!

Child’s eye view…

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I’m on the hunt for my next assignment, so I find myself speeding up to London a few times a week.  Annoying meetings with headhunters – yep, dealing with people who make insincerity a career is part of the territory – and… in between meetings, the chance to spend time in a city in constant flux.

Which is why I found myself in my makeshift office (a.k.a. a seat with a view) on the SouthBank last week. Despite it’s brutalist architecture, it’s really grown on me over the years, and it’s a fantastic public space.  Free wifi also means you can plug in, log on and at least give some semblance of being professional, though clearly my motives for being there are more to do with watching the world go by, than watching the clock.

As I looked out of the window, I observed a small boy, delightedly splashing in a puddle of water.  He was about two, the puddle about 2 millimetres.  I was particularly struck by the sheer joy with which he stomped about in his bright green wellies, and the utter glee on his face when sat down, and then proceeded to lie in the puddle of water.  Needless to say…mom and dad were not best pleased with the end result, but small boy in green wellies laughed so much, that they began to laugh, and so did I.

Which got me thinking…as grown ups we are sometimes so busy chasing money, jobs, relationships, status, and the next best thing, that we forget what it’s like to enjoy each moment for what it is. Far better to have a child’s eye view – that simple innocence which comes from truly being oneself, the uncomplicated perspective that makes seeing and feeling real, not something you buy on-line. Life is precious. So, get your wellies and go find a puddle!

The List…

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So, I’m officially on holiday for the summer. This was something I’d promised myself about 2.5 years ago when I was in serious need of some significant R&R. Something promised, but only just realised.  In my mind’s eye I envisaged sipping champagne on the beach, soaking up the sun on the coastal reaches and generally living la vida loca.

Ha, bloody ha…

In fact, the last 2.5 weeks have been a frenzy of builders (yes, they are still back doing snagging) , sorting out the boxes in the cellar (thank you universe for spiders, …not!) and doing heavy labour in the garden (mega slugs, you are not my friend and will die).  And of course, I haven’t mentioned the five page ‘to-do’ list that is the inevitable result of working away from home for months at a time.   In fact, it was while I was focusing on the ‘to-do’ that I found ‘The List’…

Now I should state that ‘The List’ is not a specification for a decent man. I found him already and yes, he does have his own hair and teeth, so if you want to know more, read my blog A is for attraction. Anyway, I digress…

Aforementioned ‘The List’ captures my ambitions, hopes and dreams. It’s called ‘47 things I’d like to do before I turn 50! ‘  It’s 47 for a reason. Why be conventional and pick 50!  I’m still adding to it, but what struck me is that instead of chasing the extraordinary, we put our dreams on hold to pursue the everyday.  Life is short, so make it good. Make a list. Follow through.

Personally, I’m determined to tick some of the following:

List Item#1: Learn to shoot clay pigeons.  Now, I admit this isn’t what you’d imagine as a first choice. It’s just a way for me to deal with unexpressed anger. Yep, try explaining that to the man who gives out gun licences!

ListItem#2: Travel on the Japanese Bullet Train. In my imagination, Japan is the land of BladeRunner. The explorer in me wants to go somewhere so culturally different that I might as well be on another planet. The sci-fi geek wants to do hi-tech in Tokyo!

ListItem#3:Fall madly in love, at least one more time.  Ticked that one!

ListItem#11: Trace my family genome. OK, I like weird science and I want to know if I’m related to the Vikings.

ListItem#15: Drink cocktails in BoraBora.  Well, that is definitely one for the big 5-Oh!

In the meanwhile…I’ll give the slugs some beer and sip champagne on the sundeck.

Home…

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If home is where your heart is, what happens if your heart has been stolen by someone in another country?  As some of my regular readers will know, I made my home in the coastal reaches several years ago.  In the small seaside town where I live, life has proceeded in fairly uninterrupted fashion.  That is, until The Girl in Row B met the man of her dreams halfway across the Channel.

I’m a firm believer in the power of the universe to grant wishes.  I’d asked for someone intelligent solvent, own hair and teeth, etc. I’m a Virgo (a.k.a. fussy), so as you can imagine, the product spec was quite lengthy...

In previously universal requests, I’d also mentioned I might like someone who didn’t live in the same place as me.  Now don’t get me wrong…I wasn’t wishing for someone on the other side of the planet, just someone who didn’t live in the same place as me. Not too near, not too far.

The lesson here is to be extremely careful what – or who – you wish for. Because I now find myself in the curious position of contemplating life on the continent, having just completed the renovations on my new house – which isn’t.  And this got me thinking…

A house is just bricks and mortar. It’s the memories you make with the people you love that create a home.  Wherever that might be.

The Girl in Row B…

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As a singleton, one of my fantasies always involved meeting Mr. Right on a plane. And no, this does not involve becoming a member of the mile-high club, so you can stop reading right away if that’s where you think this blog is going!  

Anyway… in this particular airborne dream, Mr. Unique would be sitting next to me – sharp suited and smelling of expensive aftershave.  I’d be channelling trans-atlantic chic. He’d be ruggedly handsome and interesting. I’d be interested. We’d talk and find we had so much in common…

Uh...well, I don’t know about you, but… the gods that rule the check in system seem to take particular delight in putting me next to smelly old men and sociopaths!  If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this was some sort of cosmic prank.  On my last plane I sat next to a guy wearing socks, sandals and a comb-over!   And I haven’t even begun to tell you about the annoying parents who spent an entire long-haul flight back to SA, bickering with their three year old in between bickering with each other. There is a lot to recommend business class, and I’m not just talking real cutlery here!

Still, you do sometimes meet interesting people. Snoggable…? Erm…no.  Fascinating…most def!  On a flight back from the US, I met a guy who had invented robotic fish with hidden cameras, which were used for conservation purposes. In Finland, I met a super cute four-year old, who spent the entire flight introducing me to ‘Katten’ – her favourite cuddly toy…My Finnish is rubbish, but just as well I can speak ‘kid’.  I’ve also met a man who insured space ships for a living…sadly, there is no ‘alien abduction clause’…I checked!

For readers of this blog who think my rich imaginative life has been the balm that soothes the melancholy heart of a solo traveller?  Well, what I didn’t tell you was that the girl sitting in Row B also happened to be sitting next to the man of her dreams when she flew to Spain last weekend. We met mid-air, but not on a plane. He is…ruggedly handsome and interesting. He does not wear socks or sandals, and he smells good. Really good!  I am…of course, smitten. But that is the subject of another blog…

 

 

 

Windsong…

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Windsong

Today is definitely a day for kite-surfers, judging by the gales buffeting the coastal reaches.  As I walked back from town, and – quite literally  – got blown around  in a circle by a rambunctious squall, I got to thinking…

I grew up in the Western Cape where the ‘Cape Doctor’ – a particularly fierce South Easter – would regularly be the bane of my life.  This wind blows for weeks at a time. It is relentless!   Believe me, when you have flyaway hair like mine, you really want to live somewhere wind-free!

But since there is no such thing as bad weather(only the wrong clothes and no hat) – I learnt to love the wind when I began messing around on boats.  A steady breeze is as good for the soul as it is for the sail.  I’ve been out on the water in light airs that stroke your cheek, and gale force winds that rip across your face like sandpaper.  Somehow pitting yourself against nature makes you feel more alive than fearful.  Besides, the wind always blows something good your way.