Film sequence

    

Constructing a sequence is one of the first things they teach you in film school.  It consists of frames, each with each own action, that comes together as a chase sequence or a killing sequence or a fashion show sequence.

In an Episode of Criminal Minds, Reed comments that human emotions aren’t linear and that it cannot be altered by one event or announcement.  It takes a multitude of years, experiences or faith to overcome the tragedy that happens to all of us.

Normally, one can’t remember that definitive moment where your heart, mind and body aligned to finally move away from the tragedy – its as if you wake up one morning and realize that you’re ok again.  You somehow made peace with what happened, not necessarily in the fact that its ok, but rather that it’s a part of life.  And shit happens.

I believe that there are multiple things that can assist in reaching this point.  A lot of people say time heals, others believe in keeping busy or getting away to a secluded place where you can face your demons and deal with them.  If it’s a breakup – most girls would recommend girls night, many bottles of wine and chocolate. And for the evenings for when the heartache strikes, romantic comedies with a box of tissues. 

I tend to think being around people that care about you helps.  On one occasion, I went to my friends house late on a Saturday afternoon, bursting into tears the minute she opened the door.  She was busy getting ready to go out, and sat with me the entire afternoon as I spilled my guts.  Perhaps I felt safe enough to burst into tears, smudge my make up a ruin a date to cry my heart out about what I know was busy happening, but didn’t want to face.

Not sure what the exact recipe is for getting over, or moving on from the shit we face.

One day, there will be that one moment, that one morning where you’ll feel like yourself again.  Where the past will play like a sequence in your head, from beginning to end.  You’ll feel a small part of your heart ache as you remember what had happened, but later as you watch the rest, you get to a place of contentment. A place of being ok with what happened and perhaps, knowing that you grew from it.

Whether its after a certain amount of chocolate… Or glasses of wine.  I don’t know, at this point, I prefer popcorn. 

Might as well enjoy the movie, right?

Becoming

This morning I was standing in the shower thinking of how I’m going to pay off my second car breakdown in one month.  I had no idea, it’s the one situation that I hate. I feel inadequate and useless when my car breaks.

Finally, after washing my hair – I made peace with the fact that I’d have to pay off the debt while saving for my dream: to live in India.  And somehow still paying the normal rent, petrol, insurance and, and and…  I’d have to do it over two months to still have a little bit of time to prepare for Christmas.

While putting on my make up, about 10min later, I got all teary eyed.  I was thinking about my life: my dreams, my wanting to not be ordinary and how the hell I’m going to do that.  That was my worst fear, together with growing old alone – was to be ordinary. 

When growing up I went from wanting to be a cop, to working in marine life to wanting to be in the Navy, being a doctor for Doctors without borders and being an actress.  No idea where the actress part came from as most of the other had something in common: doing something for other people. 

The navy idea stuck around the longest – about five years, and even though two broken ankles and 30 metal pins kept me from passing the medical exam, I still hold it close to my heart.  I get all happy when I can see, read, participate in anything related to the Navy.

I dream big.  Or rather, I was given big dreams.

Am I supposed to make my dreams smaller to fit in with life? Or the expectation of what my life is supposed to be? Am I supposed to live the life I dreamt of, even though it involved loads of trusting and taking chances?

I don’t know. I know what I want.  I know my skills.  I know that I will survive whatever is thrown my way.  But on how to take the final step towards it… Leaving behind a perfectly ordinary life: no idea. 

Perhaps I’ll leave that for Monday morning, as Fridays meant a little less thinking and a little more relaxing.

Birthday

I cut my hair over the weekend.  Quite a dramatic change, my hair has been shoulder length for a couple of months now.  I just needed to do something different. 

Its my dad’s birthday.  The most feared day of my year.  

I always have to remind myself to not burst out in tears at work.  Making peace with the day he died is one thing: that’s hard, but its ongoing and heartbreakingly sore. You make peace with the fact that it’s a constant in your life. 

But birthdays only come once a year.  It’s the day when you want to jump him with a bear bug, spoil him with good dinner, bake a cake especially just for him, ice it with colourful sweets and spend time just being with him.  

I miss his birthday: I don’t have anybody to spoil, or to bake cake for and putting flowers on a grave doesn’t quite fill that void.

I have to remind myself every time when I feel like this that all people faces all kinds of crap. Even though I feel like I’m the only one having to deal with a traumatic illness, watched him lose his mental and physical abilities and feeling so out my depth.

The sky will probably still be blue in 20 years time, today.  I will have more wrinkles and will have more stories to tell, but I hope that I’m wiser. 

And that I’ll remember him, all of him. And find a way to celebrate life. Somewhere, everywhere. 

Nights

I dressed a little nicer this morning – not my usual, very casual attire. I knew today was going to be one of those days. A long one. A difficult one. And one that I would hate to remember.

Turns out: I was right.  14 hours later, we’re still pushing the deadline.  It went from better to worse, to even worse.  And everybody is freaked out, frustrated and so over it.  We’ve been pushing this deadline now for 5 days – with very little thought put into this process, its one of those “feel your way around it”. And lets make the same mistake seven times, as if we haven’t learned anything from the first six times. 

I want to blame someone.  Two weeks ago I made a big issue about the way I thought its going to turn out.  Almost everybody ignored me saying I was getting worked up over nothing – fortunately, my worry stems from a similar situation three years ago where we almost moved the world 20cm every single night.  And that carried on for eight months, and by the time the project was done – so was everybody involved.  But no, Im worked up.

As I walk down the same corridor for the 17^th time I think back on the many, many, many nights I spend doing this: crises managing, meeting (almost) impossible deadlines and cleaning up messes.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the thrill of making something almost impossible work.  I like meeting a deadline and Im good at crises management.  But, I don’t want to spend all my nights doing this…

I want to plan something and have people work as a team, in order to meet the deadline.

The chain is just as strong as its weakest link.  Blame game – at this point – not much help. Best now is to find a solution.  But I know what went wrong; I know the link and Im wondering how to solve it, to prevent the same thing from happening next week.

We have this saying in my home language, you can bring a donkey to the water, but you can’t make it drink.  We can try our best to enable, support, guide and assist people but we cant do their work for them.

The one thing

I rarely reach the point where I don’t know what to do next.  I always have a back up plan, another way to go.  I sometimes think I might as well write ‘Plan maker’ on my CV.  I do it for a living, I plan things and when it all goes wrong – as it normally does, I make other plans.  I come up with solutions.

Today, however, I don’t have a plan.  I’m stuck between a rock and a very hard uncomfortable place.  I sit behind my computer, put headphones on to try ward off any possible interaction. 

I want to move on from my current place of employment, but I cannot find anything else.  Not that I’m not trying… but that’s a whole other story. 

I am a bit of an adventurer and found the idea of working in another country incredibly appealing. New cities to discover, new people, beautiful architecture… It can only be great.

The answer I get from everybody is to teach English somewhere.  I looked it up, it’s possible to go pretty much anywhere: Thailand, Japan, Korea, Philippines, Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia, Costa Rica, Brazil, Turkey, Czech republic, Greece, Italy, France, Kenya… Take a map, close your eyes and pinpoint. 

The problem: I stutter.  Not much and it’s never kept from doing or trying anything new.  Problem is now, I cannot teach if I stutter – and I cannot not tell people.  It’s dishonest.  But how do I tell any recruiter that yes, I think I’d be amazing, but I stutter where speaking is 80% of the job.

It’s never bothered me, it seemed at one point that it bothered others more than it bothered me.  I’ve stuttered for as long as I can remember and I find ways to work with it.  Been to speech therapy and no, it didn’t do much… Making peace with it - made a big difference.  Its part of me, like my freckles, it’s apparently here to stick around for some time so instead of getting an ulcer worrying about it, I might as well make peace with it. 

Why all of a sudden does my life depend on something I cannot do? Nor not as well as others.  Are all the things I can do not enough?  I’m human, nobody can do everything…

Life

I walked outside a little while ago.  I looked up, the sky is the same blue it was yesterday. Or is it?  I see crew rushing in, most of them frowning – and this is relatively early in the morning.   I turn around to see small changes in the tree, as the weather gets slightly warmer.

I realised that I can’t remember what I had for dinner last week – except the wine I had with a friend on Tuesday.  Trust me to remember the wine…

I can’t distinguish the weeks anymore, never mind the days.  It becomes a big blur of work, friends, and evenings at home. 

What exactly are we rushing off to? Are we working harder for money? That might or might not grow depending on the mood of the world powers in that particular week.  To spend a long weekend to with family, in which we spend the majority of the time trying to forget about work and unwind.  

Is this what our lives have become? Do we rush from work to home, into gym and make appointments with people we call friends.  People who have seen me cry, and fight and horrified by life.   People who I’ve known for years.

What is it about the quest for being better? Or being busier? Or being richer, that captivates us? There are multiple theories on where we go when we die… Whether you return in the form of another animal or as a spirit, I doubt whether you’d be able to transfer your old world with you. 

A lecturer of mine raised an issue in one of our Mass Communication classes: she asked whether becoming better is really a thing? Aren’t we created to be just who and what we are?  Why are we constantly trying to be fitter, stronger, more knowledgeable and gain more skills?

Im sure most of us need to pay rent and buy food – as living off love and water, uhm, well… doesn’t work that well.  But perhaps I can make an effort to see my people, spend time with them and notice the trees around me more often.  And perhaps play with some kind of animal, they are so free… In my next life I think I want to return as a penquin.

Hate

I hate that I saw abuse for the first time when I was five years old

I hate that I needed to see the people I love, being hurt

I hate that I never had the money, or resources or power to help us leave

I hate men

Because they are arrogant and abusive

I hate that I still cry about the pain you caused us

            After you’ve been dead for four years

I hate that I build walls: because I only trust myself.

I hate that your actions left scars so deep

It cannot be healed.

I hate feeling like this.