Collecting Words and Sentences

Thursday 18th February, 2016

Dearest Joan,

A detour from my usual writings. I found this post. I love this post. Thought I would share it with you.

 

As Emerson suggests, collect words and sentences that inspire you to speak your truth.

Source: Collecting Words and Sentences

 

Love

Evelyn J

 

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Square Peg in a Round Hole.

Sunday 14th February, 2016

Dearest Joan,

Happy Valentine’s Day. People often talk about the commercialism of this day, that it is a sell out. I choose to not see it this way. In a world where days go so quickly, taking a purposeful moment to pause, stop and consider your chosen one isn’t a bad thing. As a couple, you don’t have to buy into the money side of it. Today my loved one let me sleep in (along with yesterday). I bought him a little packet of kisses. He spent half an hour looking for  a card that didn’t exist. All small things. All small gestures that actually mean quite a lot.

So I don’t write in ages and when I do I spout on about the day of love, when cupid is hopefully busy hitting targets! Or just simply getting lucky.

Where to begin?

Insert tumbleweeds here.

If you cracked open my head, it would just pour out and not necessarily in any beautiful manner. I would love to tell you everything is rosey. But I would be lying. The question, “Are you loving it?” is my most hated question. No, no I am not. But I didn’t instantly love the Uk when I moved there, nor when I relocated back to Oz. How can I? It is all so damn hard at first. I would like people to change their question. Perhaps the revised question should be, “Are you surviving it?” On most days, yes.

Yet, this email isn’t even about how I have settled.

It is about how I feel like I am in f*&^ing High School again. Oh, I loved High School so much….not. This isn’t even about work. It is about going poolside. Yep. Going to the pool is now my social anxiety moment. I don’t even care if I haven’t shaved, or if it is getting close to be disturbingly hairy in places that shouldn’t be. Nothing that a quick hop in and a dash to towel can’t fix. I also have two year old who is now at a good height to help out with concealing unsightly visions. It is the whole where do I belong crap.

The men sit together and drink. The women sit together and drink. Sometimes the men sit together in the pool and drink. Today I actually found women in the pool, possibly drinking. On the odd occasion,  the men and women sit together by the pool….and drink. I don’t drink. Have chosen not to since May last year. An inner ear, possible vertigo thing, not a ‘I am living a healthy crazy thing’ choice.

I am also a working mother. Not so many of those about. And if there are, they work part time, you know, just to keep busy. I also teach some of these people’s children.

I’m just not a cool kid. And it is my fault. I just can’t be bothered trying too hard. I just want to be normal. Daggy. Non drinking. Working because I like my job. Exist beyond the compound I live in. I want to embrace the non western things. Go for roti chani on the weekend. Speak to my Asian neighbours and get to know them OR speak to my expat neighbours who get that we are all out of our comfort zones.

It doesn’t help when I also cannot stand their poolside advice. Let me save that for my next email. You were right though. Everything is bigger in an expat community.

Joan, hope you are well.

Love you.

eve

p.s. I am failing to proof read this one. I will later.

 

 

Purpose – Written a long time ago

Monday 28th December, 2015

Dearest Joan,

Today began the ugly cries. The not pretty ones. The ones where you find yourself inhaling and exhaling quickly to try not to cry and actually find yourself on the cusp of what feels like an almost panic attack but isn’t. The cries where you sit in the corner of the train and let the tears cascade down, quietly wiping your runny nose, trying desperately to muffle any noise but failing as one lone sob escapes. The cries that just leave you exhausted.

Yesterday I was graced with a bunch of people who love me,taking time out of their lives to spend an afternoon, night and morning to say farewell. The time was graced with a heaviness, an inevitable heaviness; that sometimes washed over individuals or the group. It felt like I was treading water.

Within that group, there are six of which I pursue individual friendships with, six people that I prefer the one on one relationship with. Those friendships have different intensities, different reasons for existing. I needed six nights Joan, one for each. Time is that dastardly thing, the one thing that is always there but so damn difficult to find.

All these friendships are clearly created because of our move to the Peninsula, so new friendships. BUT some of them are a year old or just over. It makes me wonder, why on earth would fate have me meet these people, love these people, leave these people.

I want to clarify something before I go on.

  • I know the adventure will be grand.
  • I know I will make new friends.
  • I know that the friends I have now will continue to be there.
  • I know it is ok if the friendships don’t continue.

So, back to fate – I believe in it. I believe in destiny too. I believe in free will. I believe in the choices I make shaping those things. I believe that children are our future ( A little light relief).

Without a single doubt, I also believe there is a purpose to every relationship I make. The catch is Joan, I might not always know what it is. The reason may be for my benefit…or theirs…or both of ours. It may even flit between all three.

Two of these friendships have been……..

Sunday 14th February, 2016

Dearest Joan,

It had been a long time. We may never know what that last sentence was going to say. I have decided to end that post there….though I do know I will, in some way be addressing it again. I just wanted to formally end this letter, before beginning the next.

Adieu Joan,

Eve