to enjoy the getting there most! I lost my son at 25 and his best friend dedicated a book to him . I received a copy yesterday ! What struck me most in the dedication about their travels and experiences together was « he appreciated and valued the experience from A to B as much as the final destination !
I love this! Having reached the age of 63, I am slightly surprised to read that life is a series of small repeated tasks and that the feeling I’ve always struggled with of trying to complete them all and failing is not how it’s supposed to be! Not sure why I didn’t acknowledge this sooner but I can now relax. The ironing/gardening/cleaning is no longer urgent! 😊
Oh, the joy of the completed task. The last word of the novel. The last shirt ironed and hanging proud and crisp in the wardrobe… The perfect handbag found, bought, treasured and carried until it really falls apart… Passing my driving test in my fifties, which not only resulted into the obvious advantages and a sense of achievement, but the joy of completing the course, the practice, the last chapter, as it were. The completion. The closure. I do know when I know, too.
I am a proactive, target chaser, too. I am a decision maker, too, including the bad decisions, of course. I knew what house to buy. I knew what flat to rent in my youth. I knew what country I was going to live in when I was only ten years old. I fell in love madly and spontaneously and knew who to marry and when, but all sense of completion evades me when it comes to small decisions, especially when the choices are many. If I allow myself some pudding, shall I have tiramisu or Eton mess? What cake with tea, lemon drizzle or scones and jam? And if the latter, with cream or without it? You get the picture.
I get paralyzed and some, because as well as agonizing to make a decision, I know that whatever I choose will make me regret not going for the other option. It is a recurrent agony and it has been so since my childhood. “Oh, that’s because you are a Libra”, one of my friends say, simplifying the issue and narrowing down to an accident of birth as if there were nothing to be done about my “non-decision making”. Perhaps, there isn’t. And yet, I tell myself that regretting a decision is better than not getting to decide at all… like not saying a proper farewell -metaphorically or not- to people, situations or places, which by not having been “completed” can keep on pulling at our sleeves, making us walk in circles and stopping us from moving on.
Actually, I know what Freud would say about “finishing” or not, but I shall keep that for another time.
So, prompted by your wise and entertaining piece, I will keep my summer hat on -my eyes are fine, but I despise the sun on my head with a passion!- and urge anyone out there to work on our determination and capacity to complete whatever our undertaking might be.
The myth of Sisyphus comes to mind😹
Never ending ! Have learnt
to enjoy the getting there most! I lost my son at 25 and his best friend dedicated a book to him . I received a copy yesterday ! What struck me most in the dedication about their travels and experiences together was « he appreciated and valued the experience from A to B as much as the final destination !
gosh i am sorry for your loss but what a treasure to have...
I love this! Having reached the age of 63, I am slightly surprised to read that life is a series of small repeated tasks and that the feeling I’ve always struggled with of trying to complete them all and failing is not how it’s supposed to be! Not sure why I didn’t acknowledge this sooner but I can now relax. The ironing/gardening/cleaning is no longer urgent! 😊
I am still a work in progress on this front...
LOVE the bag!
she thanks you...
Such resonance; Laura Mercier eye liner, La Perla perfume and Blast that Mould all discontinued 😔 all used for over 20 years … why?
we know when we know
Omg a lost beret ! I’m anguished for u x
Thanks so much, Emma, for this! Chic bag indeed.
Oh, the joy of the completed task. The last word of the novel. The last shirt ironed and hanging proud and crisp in the wardrobe… The perfect handbag found, bought, treasured and carried until it really falls apart… Passing my driving test in my fifties, which not only resulted into the obvious advantages and a sense of achievement, but the joy of completing the course, the practice, the last chapter, as it were. The completion. The closure. I do know when I know, too.
I am a proactive, target chaser, too. I am a decision maker, too, including the bad decisions, of course. I knew what house to buy. I knew what flat to rent in my youth. I knew what country I was going to live in when I was only ten years old. I fell in love madly and spontaneously and knew who to marry and when, but all sense of completion evades me when it comes to small decisions, especially when the choices are many. If I allow myself some pudding, shall I have tiramisu or Eton mess? What cake with tea, lemon drizzle or scones and jam? And if the latter, with cream or without it? You get the picture.
I get paralyzed and some, because as well as agonizing to make a decision, I know that whatever I choose will make me regret not going for the other option. It is a recurrent agony and it has been so since my childhood. “Oh, that’s because you are a Libra”, one of my friends say, simplifying the issue and narrowing down to an accident of birth as if there were nothing to be done about my “non-decision making”. Perhaps, there isn’t. And yet, I tell myself that regretting a decision is better than not getting to decide at all… like not saying a proper farewell -metaphorically or not- to people, situations or places, which by not having been “completed” can keep on pulling at our sleeves, making us walk in circles and stopping us from moving on.
Actually, I know what Freud would say about “finishing” or not, but I shall keep that for another time.
So, prompted by your wise and entertaining piece, I will keep my summer hat on -my eyes are fine, but I despise the sun on my head with a passion!- and urge anyone out there to work on our determination and capacity to complete whatever our undertaking might be.