It’s gone 3pm and I have been out of the house since just after 10am. I am fighting down the urge to return to check that the teen (not mine – but today I am in parentis loco) has eaten food and made some attempt to tidy his bedroom. I normally don’t bother about the tidiness of his room – but guests arrive tomorrow and it will be occupied by two small ones. I’d prefer it if it smells a little less like teen spirit.
I’ve been trotting around town getting a few chores done – I’ve laid out a small fortune for my first pair of variefocals – Lordy Lordy – I hope they work – £240 even with a hefty discount. I nixed the coating – I’ve done well enough without anti glare doo dah on my glasses and I just can’t face the extra £30! What exactly is the benefit. The lovely girl in the shop showed me by popping on a pair of specs with anti glare in one eye and told me to look at the ceiling lights.
Sure enough the anti glare lens meant I could burn out my retina way more effectively if I choose to look at the lights or the sun. Good to know. I’m saying ‘no ta’!
Shouldah gone to Specsavers! I DID bloody go to Specsavers – because I am vain and they have a pair of specs that I love – I’ve already had one pair which broke – but I’m doggedly carrying on with the same model and now in super exxy variefocal mode. Ai ai ai – I pile more guilt upon my un-coiffured head… Which is another thing…
I absolutely know that worrying about how crap I’m going to look in all photographs of me and my kid sister, who is over here on a rare visit from Australiarrr this week – is shallow and ridiculous. I am beside myself with excitement to see her and her two kids for a few days from tomorrow. AND YES! I am gutted that my hairdresser has had to cancel for the 2nd time.
I’m really sorry she’s injured her finger – but HELLS TEETH! It would be this fkking week. I look like a bag lady. This is what you get when you are a dark Mousey brown and you insist on dying your hair until it’s practically white. Or lilac. It depends on my mood and whether I’m trying to behave like a grown up.
Here is undoctored pic of current hair sitch… It’s bad heh?
I was planning on having lovely ‘salon fresh’ hair and catching all the correct fat girl angles in every shot. BTW FGA is a real thing apparently. If you make any attempt to take your best picture – you’re not being authentic and guilty of fat girl angling – or something. Resulting in me looking way more like this:
If you are a ‘no-filter’ nazi – Shove it down your pie hole matey. I’ve been working the angles since I was a teen – when we were convinced being shot from above was the go – or side on – always stick your leg forward and lean back – like you’ve got a sore back. You’ll look like a total twat but you will look thin!
So now I’m to feel guilty about using a filter or cocking my head to the side … Nah! I will not only wear what I like – I’ll take pictures of myself how I like too. Because I can. Because I’m a grown up and I don’t much care for rules.
Being authentic has rock all to do with how you look or like to look in a picture – unless of course that’s all you care about then you are being authentically shallow – which if that’s your thing – then knock yourself out lovely chops. If on the other hand like the rest of us – you just like to look like a half way decent normal version of yourself in an image – then upload those filtered Instagram pics with total abandon – you’ve only got yourself to please chicken. We the undersigned refuse to feel guilty about using a bit of powder and paint, a few camera tricks and Vaseline on the lens to make ourselves look fancy for posterity.
My Guilty Machine is working overtime:
I haven’t hit my yoga mat regularly in over a week. Score 10 Yogi Guilt points.
I feel bad about not doing yoga in over a week. Score 20 Yogi Guilt points.
I’ve just scoffed a cheese and pumpkin scone as big as a baby’s head. Score 100 Carb Guilt points.
I’m contemplating having another one: Score a further 100 Carb Guilt points and add £150 Greedy Bitch Guilt points.
The teen may still be un-fed and I am still in the cafe. Score 25 Bad Parent Guilt points.
I forgot that teen is going home to his mamma this afternoon and I’ve bought two large Pork Pies – which I shall now have to eat because I’m not sending him home with one. Score 100 Carb Guilt points and 100 Selfish Guilt points.
I haven’t done any housework or paid work yet and I am unlikely to if I’m being totally honest. Score 30000 Lazy Mare Guilt Points.
Score 500 Bonus Guilt Points for completing this task.
You have now reached optimum ‘Beat yourself up’ status and can use this to justify having alcohol to make yourself feel better while conveniently forgetting that having two whopper glasses of wine last night started this whole rant off in the first place…
If that reads familiar – then we need to talk.
Time to discuss how to dump off all that angst, stick our double chins out and get the fuck on with doing life.
I have found the following exercise most helpful – taught to me by one of my favourite Shamanic teachers Leo Rutherford.
He took a full hour preparing us for this final ‘moving meditation’ as he called it. I am going to have to just come straight out with it.
Stand with your legs hip width apart and your knees soft. You are going to lunge from this position into each direction as you repeat the arm movements and the mantra.
Take your first lunge forward – be comfortable in that stance and bring your arms up into a classic defensive preparation pose, bent at the elbows, hands gently closed into loose fists.
Now rotate from the shoulder and punch forward with your right hand as you hold your left hand steady in position.
Then change by bringing your right hand back to the defensive position and rotation and punching your left hand out.
You are jabbing and parrying from your chest. You don’t need to cover your face – you’re not boxing.
Now then – with each move – punctuate it with one word from the following mantra.
NOT. MY. SHIT!
Out loud and very loud.
Turn to the right and repeat lunge, punch, parry, punch, parry punch
Repeat in each direction and keep at it until you are fully released of all unnecessary concern or woe all guilt and all self limiting thoughts.
It’s NOT YOUR SHIT…
It doesn’t serve you – it doesn’t serve the people you love and who love you. It doesn’t serve your boss, your colleagues or the people you meet in the street. It is a complete waste of time.
Guilt wastes time – it keeps us from getting on with the good stuff. It limits our gorgeous potential and it dials down the crazy and the happy. It is worthless and we are so freaking brilliant at deploying it – we don’t even notice half the time.
So I say – ditch the guilt about the diet – what you’re eating, spending or the time you are giving to yourself.
Don’t beat yourself up if you don’t hit the mat – instead tell yourself better – self nurturing things.
You got this.
It’s OK – take it easy. Feel your way into it.
Guilt is a powerful thing and it enables us in our continued procrastination and excuses. So if you drop it – then you are way WAY more likely to get on and do or not do the things you are feeling guilty about.
Let’s have one more round together.
NOT. MY. SHIT!