"Scarlet are you running to someone or just running?"
Kehua! by Fay Weldon
The worst thing a writer can do is not write. Suppressing that instinct to explore the depths of ones thoughts is like leaving your fingers in a door frame waiting for it to inevitably shut. Now that I'm becoming more aware that people actually read my blog I've unwittingly begun censoring the things I have to say, worrying that perhaps I'm being too candid or too honest.
I would like to think however, that it is precisely my honesty which attracted you here in the first place. Its not that brutish type of truth which is is thinly veiled disdain, it is the gentle meanderings of a twenty something trying to come to terms with her life and the destinations it takes her.
Real women have curves and surfboards wouldn't have originated if I wasn't a land locked surfer trying to navigate love, career and city life with the burgeoning dream of flocking to the sea.
So be it.
I tentatively begin talking to you in the hope that expressing myself will not only alleviate my burdens but identify with you, you the person, someone who feels and dreams as vividly as I do.
If I've learnt anything this year it is to seize the day, I know its a scuffed and well worn cliche but having lost two dear friends of mine I see waiting around as a futile past time. Patience as they say is a virtue, so when I say 'waiting around' I think I mean in the same context as Jack Johnson's song 'sitting, waiting, wishing.' Try to avoid being stuck in limbo, treading water, waiting on someone, all these a purgatory of your own manufacture.
Recently I began experimenting with dating again which is where this reflection derives from. I'll always be a glass half full kind of person so I can't say my experiences have been wholly negative but they have made me wistful.
Allow me to digress...
I believe my whole romantic system is based on two songs.
Johnny Clegg & Savuka 'Dela' and Pete Townsend 'My love opens the door'
(see below).
I literally didn't give two hoots about romantic relationships and was happiest planning on becoming a vet and watching David Attenborough documentaries. Then all of a sudden I became acutely aware of my pituitary gland that stealth bomber who made it impossible for me to ignore cute surfer guys. I see a man looking paternal and my ovaries clap, I see a guy looking after animals my ovaries clap, I see an artist doing his thing my ovaries clap, I meet a guy with a sense of humor....you get the gist.
Being alone is what all human beings are fundamentally afraid of. Even if your sated with casual affairs the striving for brief encounters is your way of alleviating the anxiety of being alone . The funny thing is I used to relish solitude, whilst my household growing up was never quiet, I could often steal moments away (mostly to the garden) and simply be. My message isn't law but I do think I'm right. Everybody wants to love and be loved in return.
Dating in your mid twenties 'should' be carefree and effortless but alas it is not. With both partners trying to carve out careers, being in or just out of the wrong relationships and/or living in the wrong place (ahem Birmingham city)? There seem a whole host of landmines ready to trip you up.
I've sampled the exquisite pain of not being the right person, of being the completely wrong person, of being the right person at the wrong time and for being just hell no but alas I regret nothing. Although sat in my room listening to the rain pelt down makes me feel excruciatingly single I am not unhappy. I'm actually pretty darn happy, because with every stupid declaration, trip up and wrong turn I get closer to finding the person who 'opens the door to my heart...'
Too cheesy?? Yeah your right that was a bit much.
I've always felt the Angelina Jolie approach to life seems a good one...live how you mean to live, in a way that is unique to you because if you are nothing but yourself, the great love and beautiful family can happen anyway, in a tune better suited to your rhythm...
Until next time water babies love strong, surf well...
Sophia x
Kehua! by Fay Weldon
The worst thing a writer can do is not write. Suppressing that instinct to explore the depths of ones thoughts is like leaving your fingers in a door frame waiting for it to inevitably shut. Now that I'm becoming more aware that people actually read my blog I've unwittingly begun censoring the things I have to say, worrying that perhaps I'm being too candid or too honest.
I would like to think however, that it is precisely my honesty which attracted you here in the first place. Its not that brutish type of truth which is is thinly veiled disdain, it is the gentle meanderings of a twenty something trying to come to terms with her life and the destinations it takes her.
Real women have curves and surfboards wouldn't have originated if I wasn't a land locked surfer trying to navigate love, career and city life with the burgeoning dream of flocking to the sea.
So be it.
I tentatively begin talking to you in the hope that expressing myself will not only alleviate my burdens but identify with you, you the person, someone who feels and dreams as vividly as I do.
If I've learnt anything this year it is to seize the day, I know its a scuffed and well worn cliche but having lost two dear friends of mine I see waiting around as a futile past time. Patience as they say is a virtue, so when I say 'waiting around' I think I mean in the same context as Jack Johnson's song 'sitting, waiting, wishing.' Try to avoid being stuck in limbo, treading water, waiting on someone, all these a purgatory of your own manufacture.
Recently I began experimenting with dating again which is where this reflection derives from. I'll always be a glass half full kind of person so I can't say my experiences have been wholly negative but they have made me wistful.
Allow me to digress...
I believe my whole romantic system is based on two songs.
Johnny Clegg & Savuka 'Dela' and Pete Townsend 'My love opens the door'
(see below).
Your probably trying to remember where you've heard them before right? They play at the end of family/romantic movies nearly all the time because they beautifully and oh so artfully sum up how it is to love and feel about someone.
With lines like 'I'm a whale listening to some inner call, swimming blindly to throw myself against your shore' and 'let my love open the door to your heart,' they've helped mold me into the hopeless romantic person you see today. I might look normal and I'm even able to hold a perfectly sensible conversation, but under the parka and ethnic jewelry lives a woman who believes in finding 'the one' and living happily ever after.
Gosh admitting that feels like I've just confessed to having a fetish for nose sucking (I don't and nothing wrong with people who do, just not my cup of tea)!! And its not like I'm walking round with the romantic equivalent of a metal detector looking for life partner material...I still want to meet someone organically and in an uncomplicated manner without expectation, its just now I feel I've suddenly become aware of longevity.
What happened? For ages I was this girl...
I literally didn't give two hoots about romantic relationships and was happiest planning on becoming a vet and watching David Attenborough documentaries. Then all of a sudden I became acutely aware of my pituitary gland that stealth bomber who made it impossible for me to ignore cute surfer guys. I see a man looking paternal and my ovaries clap, I see a guy looking after animals my ovaries clap, I see an artist doing his thing my ovaries clap, I meet a guy with a sense of humor....you get the gist.
Being alone is what all human beings are fundamentally afraid of. Even if your sated with casual affairs the striving for brief encounters is your way of alleviating the anxiety of being alone . The funny thing is I used to relish solitude, whilst my household growing up was never quiet, I could often steal moments away (mostly to the garden) and simply be. My message isn't law but I do think I'm right. Everybody wants to love and be loved in return.
Dating in your mid twenties 'should' be carefree and effortless but alas it is not. With both partners trying to carve out careers, being in or just out of the wrong relationships and/or living in the wrong place (ahem Birmingham city)? There seem a whole host of landmines ready to trip you up.
I've sampled the exquisite pain of not being the right person, of being the completely wrong person, of being the right person at the wrong time and for being just hell no but alas I regret nothing. Although sat in my room listening to the rain pelt down makes me feel excruciatingly single I am not unhappy. I'm actually pretty darn happy, because with every stupid declaration, trip up and wrong turn I get closer to finding the person who 'opens the door to my heart...'
Too cheesy?? Yeah your right that was a bit much.
I've always felt the Angelina Jolie approach to life seems a good one...live how you mean to live, in a way that is unique to you because if you are nothing but yourself, the great love and beautiful family can happen anyway, in a tune better suited to your rhythm...
Until next time water babies love strong, surf well...
Sophia x
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