I gave up on a lot of things as a kid and, generally, I lose hope in myself very quickly.
When I was fifteen yeas old I gave up bass guitar because, despite practicing for at least 10 minutes per day (and at most half an hour a week…), I wasn’t sounding anything like Flea. Growing out of this habit never happened as, at the tender age of twenty two, I gave up guitar because I didn’t sound like Jimi Hendrix. I even had callouses on every finger tip, for fucks sake. Recently, I gave up drawing because I’m nothing like those amazing people on Deviant Art. Fuck, I nearly gave up blogging last month because I barely get the audience. (Secret’s out, people. Blogging is a dying art but you’ll find me here waiting for it to resurge again like vinyl and podcasts.)
If my failure’s were successes, I’d be one smug bitch right now.
Oh, yes! Nothing quite like a bit of failure to get you to question everything about yourself and give you the confidence kick-in-the-crotch you need.
I’m a big ol’ ball of optimism lately, aren’t I? Bear with me. It gets better, I promise.
We went away last weekend and, as it’s coming up to April, the UK council’s get squeaky bums about the budget they haven’t spent so literally every road that has the smallest pot hole in it gets dug up for about four miles either side. Traffic cones block the way and reroute the roads so, all of a sudden, you feel like you’re competing in the Mushroom Cup on Mario Kart. We were re-routed to a road that has clearly seen better days – most likely when horse drawn carriage was the modern day equivalent of an Audi. This small -ass country lane was our detour and my car shuddered along uneven tarmac whilst I prayed there was no oncoming vehicles to shatter my knee caps upon collision.
As we trundled along this road, I saw that there was water pouring from the roots on the trees. Where the water was trickling down the road, it had carved a path for itself. Bad news for the life span of my car but I found it remarkable that, despite the strength of the concrete in comparison to the gentle trickling of water, it had overpowered it and made a route for itself…
I get it. It’s February. We make resolutions and, when they haven’t come to fruition yet, it’s difficult to stay focussed. Diets suddenly have more cheat days, fitness classes get missed, and books remain unread. But, listen, even the sharpest of boulders can get worn down in the gentlest of waters. What I mean to say is this – keep on at it. Particularly if it’s something you’ve never done before and you’re not very good. Be consistent and keep showing up. Gently does it – don’t expect to carve a path overnight. You think that water carved a path in a few days? Hell no! The little waterfalls on the road that was wrecking my car wheels was carved over time by a consistent trickle that never ceased.
Be more water. Be gentle with yourself. Show up as often as you can. Do what you are able to do in that moment. Consistency is key. Before you know it, you’ll find you’re flowing a little easier as you carve your own path.
So…what paths are you carving this year?
Love and light,