The month of May has been a lost one, for more reasons than one. We’ve been living in a never ending cycle of sickness bugs, infections, and the mundane reality of the return to work. Between the three of us, we’ve caught more colds than I can count on one hand, had a bout of tonsillitis, a bad case of man flu, one chest infection and the littlest is now currently fighting off Bronchiolitis. We’re all sick, and it feels like we have been forever. Couple this with my return to work, and is it any wonder my blog has taken a back seat? Since returning to work, I’ve put pressure on myself to keep up with a blog, with my online persona and the life I had began to love on the internet. I put so much pressure on myself that my blog lost the very essence of what it started out as. A way to document the ordinary moments. I found myself caught up in comparisons, in procrastination and the fear of posting anything that might not be ‘good enough’. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve said ‘I’ll get organised on Monday’, and with every passing Monday that lacks the momentus change in my attitude and ability to organise my life, I become more and more disheartened.
I’ll start my diet on Monday.
I’ll get on top of social media on Monday.
I’ll get organised when I move house.
I’ll pick up my photography again when we’ve finished decorating.
I’ll start to read again when I have time.
We aren’t very good at living in the moment. I say we, because although I may just be talking for myself, and only myself, I have a funny feeling that I am not. As a generation, we suck at living in the moment. We put things off, forever waiting for the new chapter in our lives to begin. For me, Monday is a day I talk about a lot, but that never seems to materialize in the way I expect it too. I’m waiting for the start of a new week, for the sun, for my move in date. I’m waiting to pick up my camera again, I’m waiting to lose weight, to have more time. I’m always waiting, and very rarely doing anymore, and in some way or another, I think we are all guilty of this.
My Monday is not a weekday anymore, it’s an ideal. My Monday is the day when I start my new healthy lifestyle, where I organize my life entirely and can still tucked be up in bed by 9pm. Monday has lost all ability to exist alongside Tuesday as a normal day, and instead now represents everything I want my life to be. I’m not alone in this. In the same way we all want to transform our lives on January 1st, research shows that more people start diets, quit smoking, even make doctors appointments on a Monday. There is even a spike in health queries across Google at the start of the week, which dwindles as the days go on. That dwindle is not limited to Google. I dwindle, and you probably do too. Whether or not we start our new lives on Monday as planned, by the end of the week, we’ve fallen into old routines and reverted to what is at the moment the ‘easy life’. We will always revert to the familiar, to the simple, to the lesser life for a little bit less work.
I suppose that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been waiting to start on Monday. I’ve been waiting for my new house for the bright light to improve my photography. I’ve been waiting for extra time, for things to get easier. For Harrison to not be sick. For me to not be sick. I’ve been expecting everything to fall into place. I’ve been waiting for so long, that I’ve actually stopped doing. In the aftermath of the recent terrorist attacks, the expiration date on life is ever more poignant. Life is short, and if I continue to wait for Monday, or for the things I want in life to fall into my lap, the days will be over before I have a chance to make the most of them.
I watched a video made by a friend recently that struck a chord, and since watching it, I can’t help but want to regain control of my own life. The video was entitled ‘My Happiness Project’ and summed up the steps she was taking to make the most of her life. To treat herself better and to do the things that she not only knows she should be doing, but that she wants to be doing. Life really is too short to wait for everything to fall into place; we are in complete control of our own happiness, and only now can I understand what that really means. We cannot control the things that go wrong in our lives. I couldn’t help the fact I had tonsillitis. I can’t help the fact my child has Bronchiolitis. I can’t change the less than ideal light in my current house, or my inability to take images that can measure up to those of the creative individuals I admire. What I can do is take our month of illnesses for what it was (an excuse for extra cuddles on the couch and a sly day off work), I can learn to make the most of the last few weeks in the house we’ve grown so much in, even if it is not necessarily Instagram worthy. I can work to improve my own photography, rather than get bogged down in comparing it to everyone else’s. I have my own happiness project. I want to seize the day, and make the most of what life has handed me.
I am no longer waiting for Monday to diet, I have no reason to wait for the sun to visit the park and I fully intend on making the most of every single day. If there is one thing we can take from the atrocious events in the last three months, it’s that nothing about life is constant. Our time here is not unlimited, and one day we will regret the weeks we lost, counting down to Monday.
Never leave for tomorrow, something that you can do today.