nudge, nudge


Holidays. Supposedly times are rest and reprieve. Of long days in the pub filled with raucous laughter and general giddiness, of sun soaked beaches fringed with palm trees, the clean fresh air of a mountain top or the undiscovered back alleys of a new city. Holidays, are longed for, pined for and undoubtedly desired. Most of the time. For all a ‘holiday’ is none of the above but instead a long drawn out slug of time where minutes last for hours and hours seemingly for days. The problem with designated holiday periods is that they often come when you don’t need them. More frustratingly, my job situation at the moment also means that holiday pay is non existent. I’m essentially unemployed by circumstance. 


Two weeks. The desired holiday time – the general period people take off for a standard time when subjected to the rules and regulations of ‘annual leave’ – limiting when it comes to fulfilling dreams of getting lost in jungles and truly exploring the place you choose to visit. India in two weeks and you’d be lucky to make it out of Delhi alive -however you learn to live within those constraints. 


Designated holiday for me has boiled down to designated thinking time, planning time and acting for the future time. As well as trying to fit in some of those raucous pub moments in between. Despite the April snow flailing outside my window, i’ve been attempting to embrace the concept of ‘spring cleaning’. 


The desire to be a minimalist occurs several times throughout my year, often in line with seasons change or significant life changes. I go through my belongings, make choices before trudging to the charity shop with my heavy burden. I did try ebay once but let’s be honest; it’s not very philanthropic! Instead the nearest charity shop to my house gets first dibs in the clothes I never wear and shoes i can’t walk in. It’s always in a bid to be more transfer friendly. So that if needs must I can ‘pick up and leave’. It is a concept India embedded with in me and is a way of life much easier to live when your home is essentially your rucksack. Even with that said – my rucksack was too heavy. 


I, for various reasons, surround myself with material clutter. With possessions. Where as some of these possessions are never going to leave – some should have never even been purchased and have sat gathering dust. I mean however does one need silver leggings or an aqua eyeliner? 


Having the fluffball dependent has also increased my material clutter – and thus it’s more important that I know have a hold of my own things as well as his – because there will be a day in the future where I will undoubtedly pack up and move again. 


However before that happens, i need to focus on priority number one. A career. There is no moving until I have a steady income and as yet my income is far from steady. I made a pact with myself to only apply for jobs I REALLY want.


So far my emails have seemingly fallen into the abyss of the recipient address’ and I have been left with the response equivalent of ‘white noise’. It’s not pleasant. But i try. This last week two incredible jobs have come up. Two jobs I would almost kill for. Both similar roles in a related industry. My chances are slim. It’s taken me a week to even pen a cover letter for one of them. Days of sitting in front of my computer screen, hoping for eloquent words and cleanly structured sentences to flow out. And just when I hit a lull, i feel a nudge. An actual nudge, not just adrenalin, the grey fluffball has come out of his hiding place behind the sofa, has stopped eating the wallpaper from my walls and wants my attention. It’s his new favourite thing and its quite adorable. Usually in times where I have to concentrate – primarily when I’m using technology.


He nudges. And he keeps nudging. He nudges me back into the here, the now, the present. Eckhart Tolle in rabbit disguise. He makes me remember what is now. Not what is in the future. The future is important but it can wait. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s