Tuesday, 17 October 2017

The Rut

Hello!
I haven't posted in a while because I've been so busy writing this book. Hope everyone's well!

I wanted to sit down and write a blog post, because although its sunny outside, its rather freezing.
Sitting down with my chamomile tea, I'm going to reflect. (That's all I ever do, inside my brain.)
This year, I moved from New Zealand, to Los Angeles, to New York.

I was in a rut in Los Angeles. I was sitting on my awful green ikea couch for weeks at a time, not knowing what to do with myself. Goals had not been met and I was shut in my house believing that I was a failure.  I was thinking very existential thoughts. Days were bleeding into one another. Leading into weeks, then months.  If there had been someone to say to me, get up, youth is fleeting, that would have been great. But there wasn't and I don't want to think I regretted any of those months pining for something that I easily could have achieved myself. Regret is a waste of time. Things happen and I wouldn't change anything.

Being in a rut is hard. NO matter how old you are, we all get into them. I don't know about you, but when I don't believe in myself, it's bad. I essentially shut down. Writing was the only thing that I believed I was good at, and even that was becoming spoilt, so I did the one thing I could think of and went to New York. I am very lucky because a lot of people don't have that luxury.

New York was a HUGE shock to my system. I was seeing colours that I hadn't seen in months. The air was cleaner (weirdly enough). People move so fast, that I was forced to. I got a job, found friends my own age. Got a little bit of a reality check - whilst its important to achieve goals and hustle, it is still important to be a kid, before its too late.

The strange thing is that I'm the one who puts a lot of pressure on myself. I hate being stagnant. When I'm stagnant, I get lazy. I just sleep and stay inside, in the dark. I don't do much to actually live. It's a very dangerous thing. And I become full of dread. That I'm not doing enough to accomplish my goals, that I'm wasting my time.

If you think about it, what is wasting time? Sitting in bed on a sunday morning, watching your favourite tv show, and then strolling to your favourite cafe to write a journal entry? Is that wasting time? Going to sleep at 4am because you spent the night roaming NYC with your beautiful teen friends? Is that a waste of time? No. There is a difference between sitting in the dark, wishing things were different versus going out and living. Taking time for yourself, whilst getting hungry for your passions and career. It is all about learning about how to balance your time. Doing anything you can to achieve your goals is one thing, but you still have to enjoy yourself in the process. Life is hard enough, you shouldn't always have to be struggling. You deserve to enjoy life.

And I realised. Time is mine. I get to choose what I do with it. And I became rich. I'm a huge control freak so I did battle a little bit about letting myself just live. But the uncertainty of how my life would pan out floated away. I realised, I didn't need to know that. I needed to stop planning so much, because otherwise it got to the point that I didn't want to get out of bed because my day was so full, with nothing in particular.

And I'm still learning, but I'm starting to be a lot more selfish with my time. I don't say yes to doing things I don't want to do. If I don't want to be friends with someone toxic, I don't. This is all easier said than done, but something jolted me in New York. Everyone here is so blatant. So vocal about what they want. It was like the city was speaking to me, and handing me a pair of glasses, and telling me to get up off my ass and live. To be hungry for the things I wanted.

Sometimes I have to look in the mirror and say, this is my life. How I'm living won't be forever.
I don't know how the future will pan out. But I want to set myself up so that it will be as smooth as I can make it. So that I don't think I could have done more. I stopped punishing myself for being young and uncertain, and slowed down.

It was daunting. And I did it. And I grasped my life by its hind legs and said, stop running. Slow down. Look at how intricately the decorations on buildings are carved. Look at the leaves. Look at the families walking by. Breathe. Stop running around like a headless chicken.

Sit in the park for a little while longer.