Okay, it’s official. I am a boring person.
I have been wandering the halls of blog pages and am amazed at the ingenuity and creativity of some wordsmiths out there. They seem to have this whacky way of looking at the world, although, admittedly, some are so far off the wall I question if they should really be part of main stream society. But it did get me thinking, that truly, I am an incredibly boring person.
I class myself as a wannabe bohemian – I want to be a non conformist, but I am totally unable to be. I care too much about what people think of me. I dream of dressing in a whacky way, wearing whacky jewellery, and having profound ideas about life, love and living. But, sadly, I simply don’t. I only have what I have lived and I don’t have a whacky way of viewing my life.
I am a run of the mill human. I am at my midlife and wish I could say that it is the best part of my life, but, I suspect, it isn’t. I’m actually kind of tired at this stage of life and, I am assuming, I have at least another 30 years to go. It doesn’t bode well does it?
Do you ever walk through the shopping center and wander what peoples’ lives are like? I do, all time. I mostly wonder if they feel as tired if I do and if they do,what they do about it. I want to feel more energy. Of course, I know that I am carrying more weight than any 40 something woman should have to carry and that an immediate solution to my exhaustion is to lose weight. But I am thinking that my exhaustion is a midlife exhaustion more than it is a physical overweight exhaustion. I find these days, I am craving the simple life. When technology did not invade every facet of our lives, when information wasn’t so readily available.
A friend of mine has recently travelled to Kenya on a community development project. She is a true bohemian, a true free spirit, but she is Australian born and bred and I wondered how she would cope with such a culture change. Of course, and (ah-hem) sickeningly so, she is just loving it. Her friends back here in “civilisation” are following her movements on facebook and it really struck me when she told us how she is showering in a bucket, reading at night by torch light, and rather than being time consuming it is time freeing! She has time, and she is loving it!
This is part of my exhaustion. I am constantly searching for information, constantly on the go, constantly trying to prove that I actually am worth the air that I consume on a daily basis. It makes for a very exhausting existence. This blog may seem to be self indulgent self pity, but that is okay, because it is. It is a beautiful day outside, I have all that I need, and there are many things that I am grateful for, but I am just tired all the time. Life experiences are taking their toll and rather than being in the turbulent ocean of life, I am longing for the windless pond of energy giving peace. I suspect my friend in Kenya is going to come home rejuvenated, full of energy and gagging for her next trip to some third world country.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not jealous. I love my life (in essence). Living in squalid conditions are not really my thing and those bugs, urgh! But there is a big part of me that would love to just take a step out of every day existence for a while, just to recharge my batteries. You get what I mean, don’t you?
I wonder if I am a boring person because I lead essentially a boring life. I don’t work in formal employment (largely through choice, although I do like to fool myself otherwise), I don’t socialise much (alcoholism kind of killed any social desirability for me), so I don’t really have much interaction and I don’t have an interest that takes me outside of the house. I don’t even particularly like walking my poor dogs. I am truthfully a hermit. Please don’t mistake this with domesticity. I am not domestic at all (as is evidenced by the overflowing dishes on the bench top, the laundry on the dining room table and the two unmade beds at 11am). Having said this, when people do come around, I can hold a good conversation, laugh easily and make people feel very comfortable. So, what can I say that makes me a uniquely interesting human being? I bloody well have no idea.
My husband insists that I am interesting. He says I talk about the days’ goings on (boring), that I can talk about the state of the world today (boring) and that I am the kindest, most generous person he knows (I can feel a puke coming on). I somehow have turned into a “Polly-Anna with a bit of a negative bent”, boring person. When I was in my early twenties I always imagined myself to be edgy, smart, even witty. But, alas, this has not turned out to be the case. I am a 40 something stay at home mom who is about to become a grandmother. Where did the edgy, smart, witty dream go?
I have no answers and of course, as always, this is just me rambling to get the thoughts out of my head and into the cyber ether. It is really just an observation. Am I going to do anything about it? Probably not. I am enjoying the solitude I have during the day (if only I could afford a cleaner, my life would be damn near perfect!), and am really thankful I can be available for my very pregnant daughter, but I do wish I could be more interesting. I would like to have something more interesting to offer the world other than dinner, laundry loads, and crafting.
You know what I mean, don’t you?