Enjoyed observing the aesthetic on the walk to work. The placement of every tree, underpass, building and pavement is very fascinating. There is a strange comfort in the predictability that when I turn a corner, the same journey lies ahead as the day before.
Work was surprisingly manageable, with only a sustainable level of kitchen madness reached. Although my meditative, outdoor break time was defiled by a guy from the café next door talking to me. The walk back was like a mystical, ritual cleansing. When it’s raining heavily, it’s really fulfilling to get drenched when it doesn’t matter. These are the extremes I live; sweat in front of a grill, drown in a deluge.
Really appreciated Chi King this morning. Focused less on the timings and more on being; felt much more beneficial. The legacy of coronation chicken was carried into today’s sandwiches, and shall certainly endure for several more days, leading to a double intake of raisins. Also resentfully assumed the responsibility of bailiff for my personal finances. I hope one day I will have a clear idea of my cash flow.
Work was refreshingly quite today. The kitchen playlist dabbled in Thelonious Monk, before submitting to the inevitable Michael Jackson. My bladder mastered the hidden art of needing to be emptied just before a rush of orders came in. Completely unintentional, but great for a little selfish respite from not very much stress.
I had low-level, irrational anxiety about my hair’s cleanliness, so had to wash it, breaking my weekly cycle. Sorry Mother Earth for needlessly releasing chemicals into your belly. Then the evening took an episodic turn, with a music rehearsal that was uncannily similar to the last one.
After my weekly, Monday lie-in, I occupied myself with a mixture of exercising, watching Cowboy Bebop, and eating food at such times that didn’t fall under the labels of breakfast, brunch or lunch. Such dissolution of structure. Then headed off to teach piano. One lesson contained improvised songs, which were simultaneously dissonant, hilarious and profound.
In between all this was the traditional Costa trip, now appearing on a Monday time slot instead of Wednesday. The dishwasher was broken, so automatically decided to purchase a reusable mug instead of using a disposable one, in an irresistible reflex against environmental destruction. Didn’t reach any new, spiritual highs, but dealt with a lot of life admin.
Dramatic windy times on Bole Hills with mixed feelings: should I have exercised my right to the last possible shorts day in 2017? I’ll have to wait fifty years to find out if I’ve caused damage to my kneecaps. The pizza fast was broken at the evening work social, and then cocktails for the first time in my life; I love alcohol.
All I can say is this life is probably very entertaining for a spectator, but looks like a car crash from my point of view. Actually, not really sure what I think or feel. My self-awareness has reached an all time low, which is strangely liberating. So completely unaware of my own desires; what I want, and what I think I should want. Time to step out of the introspective and selfish spiral.
All I know is that I was sorely tempted to have a second cup of coffee today, and only an enormous amount of self-control, and the disinclination towards an extra five toilet trips stopped me. For the first time in my life, wine seemed like the solution, but my descent into alcoholism has been reserved for another day. Ran from my confusion into a glory cloud, which inadvertently generated more confusion.
Lately, Fridays have assumed the structure of spending almost all my waking hours in a kitchen, and today was no exception. It felt like I’d lived a lifetime at work; then I checked my watch, and it was only two o’clock. How? Why? By what reasoning? Such fundamental questions as to who doles out the passage of time.
My digestive system has become quite reliant on curry, and is in disarray when without it, instead of the usual opposite. I enjoy starting and completing the entire process of cooking, listening to my own music, and with no interruptions. Carried on with the glory soundtracks afterwards. I don’t know if the music teaches me what to think, gives my mind permission to realise itself, or both. Was lying on my bed with the Father, trying to work out where I’m going wrong, and ended up receiving his loving embrace.
The morning routine has reached unprecedented heights; I managed to do Chi Kung, Pilates, and purchase milk for breakfast, all before 9:15. The back tension doesn’t know what to do. I can barely hold on under such an onslaught. Victories were slightly dampened by a cancelled driving lesson. Put my spare time to good use watching abortion and Friends. So much drama, so much laughter.
After writing a talk at church with Hyland, and an exceptional Tuscan bean soup, it was time for meaningful reflections on Ecclesall Road. I always visit this area when I need a good few hours of thought, as it reminds me of my time at uni, a period of constant flux. Listened to Halcyon Days by Ellie Goulding, the original glory soundtrack. Some crazy brain connections were made, which may need to forethought the political correctness sieve before sharing. Then curry wars at the Williams’. I’m sorry, but jar flavouring can never supersede the organic.
Worked today, fairly standard. It brings me great peace when table 5 is available for my lunch break, although a screaming child didn’t nurture the initial atmosphere. The mysterious afternoon upset stomach retuned for a second day, with no identifiable stimuli. I thought my mind and body were totally in sync? Apparently not.
Relaxed after a shower listening to Muse; heavy space rock is always great for the nerves. Then randomly invented a worship song on piano while playing. Just finishing some lyrics, with as much Exodus imagery as possible. Then went to Restore prayer thing, which I found surprisingly engaging. Yay prayer.
It was time for Pilates to be resurrected into my normal routine. Since starting Chi Kung, I’ve fallen into exercise snobbery, believing it to be the final word on all things core strength. But I think this dynamic duo is the way to release random, morning back ache. Cue a mission into the loft to reattain my Pilates ring, an operation involving many risky manoeuvres. After risking lifelong spine damage for short term benefits, I later realised I didn’t even need to use it. But I live for that buzz.
Usual Monday floating ensued, drifting between piano lessons and extended coffee stops. Wondering if it’s possible to build a spirituality based entirely on encounter, without the need to behave, manage time, or “live well”. Jesus is definitely there, in the deep and shallow, with or without people, in eternal, defining moments, and everyday working and waiting. “For from him and through him and for him are all things.”
Suffice to say that it work was a standard Saturday, with all the drama and potential of heart failure included. Coffee o’clock was delayed by one hour, an event which went unnoticed by everyone but myself, but could have borne catastrophic results.
After completing the weekly cycle of rebirth that comes with washing my hair, and all other positive emotions, I listened to Feeder’s Comfort in Sound album. So refreshing to experience music in and of itself. Interesting conversations at tea, with the fact that Slimming World list eating bread as a “sin” being fundamentally unbiblical. Carried on reading John afterwards; continually drawn into the mystery of who Jesus was. Who knows?
A minor miscalculation in my morning time frames meant my normal, spiritual exercise was slightly rushed. I’m sure I moved an inch closer to the aether, though. Then work, which was surprisingly quite, which led to several strange scenarios, involving a new, tall toilet plunger, dancing, and somersaulting spectacles. My grandparents came in just as I was on my break, which was nice.
Can’t get enough of kitchens, and cooked an eclectic curry when I got home, to Ghost Stories by Coldplay, and Blue Neighbourhood by Troye Sivan. Both original glory albums. Impulsively decided to watch Blade for the first time. Not sure whether I was made for this film, or the film was made for me. Outrageous violence is always more acceptable when fantasy elements and backflips are involved.