In the future

Imagine being able to live in the present all the time. To be someone who can think of only what is directly in front of them, taking in every surrounding of the current moment. Are there people who can do that? Who don't spend hours worrying over tiny little details of a hypothetical future?

How does one just completely know and see themselves in the present? I am certainly old enough now to know that the future is never how you imagined it, that the future is and always will be entirely made up. And yet I obsess over it.

What if this or that happens? What if I never do this? What if I can't do that?

What a silly thing to worry over the future like that and not notice every great thing happening right now. Maybe one day I'll get over it, in the future...

Clearing out.

I have been clearing out my room to make space for my new life in it. My adult life. Likelihood is I won't be able to afford to move out of my family home for a while and so my parents are kind enough to house me until I can finally flee the nest.

So I had to do this clearing up to allow myself to feel like an adult rather than a teenager surrounded by the forgotten objects of her childhood. Okay, not so forgotten. I am a sucker for sentimental memorabilia. I couldn't bring myself to throw out my extensive Doctor Who collection so it now resides in a box under my bed. But it's funny how we apply meaning to literal 'things', how it's a slight thrill to purge all the useless crap you've collected over the years.

A new beginning means a blank space is needed, somewhere to fill with new memories, a new self. I have not completely wiped the slate clean. Parts of my life are still represented by material objects placed around my room, but it feels pretty good to finally let go of that year 10 science book I felt ridiculous sentimental attachment to a few years ago. Its in the back of my car ready to get recycled at the tip. I guess that makes me feel a bit more grown up...

I am learning.

I am learning to listen to opinions that I do not entirely share. I was bad at it before. I felt so intensely emotional when politics came up in conversation, or online or on the news that I had to switch off. It made me bubble up inside with anger and despair and I didn't have room for it. If someone had a different opinion I didn't want to know. It felt irrational, and I never quite understood it, but I didn't have time to question or challenge it.

Now I do have time, and I am learning not only to listen but to love. I am learning tolerance and acceptance. I am learning the flaws and problems on my own side of the argument. I am learning to question and challenge not just what others think but what I think. I am learning that love is far greater, far more important than what someone casually thinks about the means of achieving equality.

I am learning that my opinions are valid but not static. I am learning that it is okay to feel intensely and okay to need to switch off but that it is never okay to shut down. I am learning that listening and talking and compassion and empathy wherever possible is the way forward and if that cannot be achieved something is going wrong.

I am learning and I am loving and it is good.

Holiday blues.

Coming home from a holiday is always a funny experience. You've spent however long it was suspended from reality in some beautiful place distinct from your own home and then, suddenly, you have to launch back into the swing of things. It's even weirder when the holiday bridges the gap between one chapter of your life to another. In this case I went to Italy still vaguely clinging onto my status as a student and I've come back as someone who is... unemployed.

I feel nostalgic and displaced. This isn't like every summer before where there was something starting in the autumn, so every free day was a precious paradise away from responsibility. This is... well I don't know what it is.

Of course, it is exciting. The world is brimming with possibility and opportunity and the unknown pathways of my life start from here. But before I went on holiday the possibilities and choices were far enough way they still seemed attainable and now, back to reality, it all seems a bit out of reach.

There was also so much going on before. So many big milestones and adventures and challenges. And now what? I'm still trying to process it all. That's why I haven't written for a while. Couldn't get my head around it. I still don't think I have yet. So I guess it will just have to be a summer of working things out.

Mad or brave?

I’ve written a play. Well, it’s the play I wrote last year. The same play. Only, this time, I’m doing it on my own. In less than two weeks. In a London fringe theatre. 

I have never done a one woman show before, not least one that I have written or one which concerns my personal experiences. 

I am so scared. I keep wondering if I I’ve actually lost the plot. Was I sober when I planned this? Was I thinking straight? What if I get on the stage and just burst into tears? Or, worse, I dry up completely? 

With a cast behind you, to interact with, to rely on, they have your back. You dry up and they come in moving you onto the next bit or covering over silence. This time I have nothing. I dry up and I just have to stand there, gaping at some poor audience wishing they were somewhere else.

This is an enormous challenge I have given myself. I wrote this play when I felt very sad and very alone. And now I feel much less sad and much less alone. Frankly, I feel almost like a different person to the girl who wrote that play. I'm even in love with someone! So I am tapping into some of the worst things I have ever felt, revisiting them, and acting it all out. It’s actually a fucking bizarre experience. Actually having to act yourself, but a different self, someone you once were. 

On Thursday I had a rubbish rehearsal. My poor director sat with me for a few hours whilst I went through every line without any feeling, apart from dejection and a sudden dip in confidence. I had the very terrifying thought that maybe I couldn't do it at all. I'd tricked myself and now it was too late to do anything about it. 

But, then again, I have got to trust people's belief in me. No one so far has told me to stop before I embarrass myself. They've said "cool!", "well done!", "how exciting!". Unless everyone I know hates me and would like to see me suffer in a theatre above a pub for a few nights, I think I should trust their judgement. 

Bad rehearsals happen, they just feel more spectacular when you're the only one performing. I may be completely mad, but I have a feeling it will be okay. 

And having said all that, come and see it? http://www.draytonarmstheatre.co.uk/loneliness-and-other-adventures

Whatever happens next.

It has been a week since I finished my final exams and my degree as a whole (a week!). 'Freedom' isn't quite what I thought it was going to be. I have been so tired that my average bedtime has been 10:30 pm on the dot. My emotions keep swinging wildly between relief and excitement and a sudden, overwhelming dread of the unknown that is to come.

What am I supposed to do now?

I feel like I am existing in a liminal space. Floating between two different parts of my life, waiting for graduation to cut the cord between me and the comfort blanket of education.

I feel a bit aimless, or without something to anchor myself to. I haven't got a fancy grad scheme set up for September, just the strong desire to write and create as much as possible. Really, that could mean anything.

I'm not complaining. It is a wonderfully exciting space to be in. But also terrifying. And weird. For now I am just floating, pondering, curious about whatever happens next.

Hello.

Hello. I'm here. 

It has been weird not writing for a while. I mean, also I haven't noticed. I've been crying in libraries and spending hours cramming information in my head. You know the drill. 

I haven't had much to say. Well, I could tell you quite a bit about Greek tragedy but my expertise is limited to a formulaic answer to an hour long essay question. So I won't bore you. 

But I just wanted to say hello. I'm still here. I'll be back soon. 

Hope you're well.