“The more you document your life, the more you check in, you tweet, you blog, you capture moments, the more you do all of this stuff, the more you make stories out of it, and if you do that much, you became a spectator to your own life.” (Mslazyboots in Himalayas)
I like the proposition of using this blog to document my life. Not everything but most of it, especially the fun parts. The blanket of wandering and wondering, made up of photos, thoughts and musings.
Then there is the part of becoming a spectator in my own life. The 1st position of being a part of it and also observing it, from 2nd position. That is an enticing prospect because of the insights from the past that I will get, and applying the learnings from that into what I do going forward. That is why I blog and post photos.
Many times the words are inside me, roiling around, lost in my critical notions of what should see the light of day and what must remain in the dark, locked inside me.
When this happens no words come out and instead I post photos, like a silent 3rd position, the observer with a lens.
It is not surprising that my biggest word for 2016 was Home. I wrote about Home and Identity many times on these pages this year. With all the travelling I have done, coming back home was awesome. I enjoy travelling and seeing new places and I do it because I know I have my home to come back to, to ground, recharge and reconnect with myself.
I’m going to be traveling again today and will in all likelihood not get to blog tonight, nor visit your blogs.
I’m making my way from Lisbon to Barcelona to meet up with my colleagues from around the world for our annual international coach camp.
I was supposed to fly to Barcelona on Friday and postponed it because what I thought was a mild cold turned out to be a bit more serious. A trip to the airport turned into a trip to the hospital for some treatment. There was an element of the unknown because I’m not in my home country.
Back home in South Africa it’s a quick trip to the doctor who has my medical file and my medical insurance details. Here, in Portugal it’s different. I don’t know any doctors and getting medical help works differently here with the NHS type of service.
In any event, I got well attended to at a private hospital. I’m on meds, and after sleeping the whole of Friday and most of yesterday I’m feeling a lot better.
So, no wild weekend in Barcelona. But my health is more important.
If we were having coffee we’d talk about 12 days. You know when you haven’t blogged for 12 days and you feel guilty but you can’t muster up the courage to start again because…because…hrmph!?
But you feel guilty, oh so guilty! And despite all the training you’ve done and all the stuff you know about how useless guilt is that you still feel it? Hrmphhhhhhhh…yes, welll…
They (who’s they?) say that it takes 21 days to create a new habit. How long does it take to lose one? I have no clue and it could be a coincidence that 12 days is the inverse of 21 days if you swop the numbers around. Just saying *hashtag*.
No sympathy please, no sympathy. Really, yes, no sympathy!
If we were having coffee I’d tell you that I spent a glorious 2 weeks in Portugal, took loads of photos, experienced new things and learned a lot from people much smarter than me.
So it’s not like I have no material to write about.
Procrastination abounds and knows no bounds…
This weekend is the first one in a long time where I have, blissfully, nothing planned. Absolutely nothing but pyjama days as I soak up the weak rays of the sun trying to find warmth in our cool autumn and break the cycle of blogging procrastination. So, until next time I leave you with the following message: