I recently downloaded the audio book ‘The 4-Hour Work Week’ by Tim Ferris. You’ve probably read it or at least heard of it. A brilliant concept of figuring out clear and concise methods to condense a week’s worth of work into 4hrs, with the income continuously flowing in so that you can travel the world, spend your mornings surfing or doing yoga and generally living an awesome life. A brilliant read, worthy of its accolades but when he started in on complex math equations, I hit pause and am yet to revisit. I will…‘someday’. There is one line of his that stuck to my brain like Grape Hubba Bubba under ‘90’s school desks:
“Most people think that the opposite of happiness is sadness. It’s not. The opposite of happiness is boredom”.
Read that again.
The further we get into this pandemic that prohibits us from any form of adventure and the further I sink into the mundane responsibilities that encompass adult life, I realise that this is 100% my problem. I AM BORED OUT OF MY FREAKING MIND!
(GIF courtesy of tenor.com)
Some of you might think this odd of a girl (oh sorry, I’m a woman, keep forgetting) who recently married the love of her life. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is an absolute gem of a human being. His company is a true gift. But I’m still an individual person, as is he, with our own desires of creating a life full of adventure and wonder and I can’t say that I feel much of either lately.
It’s important to note that I actually wrote most of this article in early June, a few weeks before this very lengthy Sydney lockdown was imposed. Please don’t interpret my words as boredom of only this lockdown, but also boredom of the ‘busy’ life I was leading before June 26.
Many of us were already so bored with the busy-ness of our daily routine. Just because you’re tired and have a to-do list longer than Mariah Carey’s hotel demands, it doesn’t mean you’re not bored (that was totally not a judgement, Mimi provided the soundtrack of my childhood and if she demands my kidney, it’s hers). You have to ask the question; how many of us are feeling fulfilled by our insanely busy lives? Are we busy because we’re carving out the path we always dreamed of, or because we’re doing what society has convinced us we ‘should’ be doing? Are we going to the gym because we love it? Or because we only feel seen as successful if we have a toned booty? Are we throwing big birthday parties for our kids because we enjoy it? Or because we’re worried we’ll be mum-shamed if we don’t?
It’s the intention behind our movements that can mark the difference between enjoyment and obligation.
My current admin role has a tendency to suck the living soul out of me on a daily basis. It doesn’t mean that I’m not grateful to be one of the few who is blessed enough to have retained her employment throughout a pandemic and two lockdowns, but I can’t be true to myself or to you if I don’t admit that being seen as the bicky bitch makes me wonder where I took a wrong turn. Paying my dues with mundane tasks at 18 made sense, but at 38 I can’t help but think, how the fuck did I get back here?!!!!
(GIF courtesy of tenor.com)
I spent most of my early life on stage, dancing and singing. I danced in the opening ceremony of the Sydney Olympics, I danced in an NRL Grand Final Opening Ceremony, I sang on The Voice. Now I’m filling up the biscuit container, collecting and distributing mail, taking everyone’s mouldy coffee cups to the dishwasher and being frowned upon for wearing bright red dresses or giant hoop earrings. I think the words “try to blend in” were actually uttered to me before last year’s staff photo. I’m just not quite sure they really ‘get me’.
But here’s the clincher, it’s not anyone else’s fault. I can’t blame anyone but myself here. That’s my God Damn job. It was my choice to take a job that has a steady income to pay the bills, when I know it will not bring me joy. I chose ‘safety’ over ‘adventure’. I hate to admit it, but I think somewhere along the line, I stopped being brave.
We all want to be seen and to be heard. And more than anything, for our individuality to be celebrated. If it’s not, you’re probably in the wrong place. When I was in a toxic relationship, full of despair and self-loathing, I wrote a sentence in my journal that I have recited to myself many times since:
“You’re a sundial in the shade, you’re not broken; you’re just in the wrong place”.
I vividly remember staring out of the window in high school Maths class (give me Art and English any day) transporting myself into a little café in Paris, covered in vines, seated inside looking out at the trickling rain, smoking on my cigarette and sipping my hot chocolate (I invented that fantasy way before you were old enough to get a passport Emily in Paris).
We all have places we transport ourselves to in times of boredom, but the question is, can we turn that visualisation into reality?
As a child, I would fantasize about the abilities of Mary Poppins, jumping into chalk drawings and being whisked away to magical lands of riding merry-go-round horses in a horse race, eating candy apples and bursting into song and dance with penguins. I just always believed that I was magical like Ms Poppins. Now I fear I may have turned into grumpy old Mr Banks who likes things neat and orderly. Some will surely read this and find me ridiculous, but trust me when I say; in every second of every day, I would rather be ridiculous than mediocre.
(GIF courtesy of makeagif.com )
A woman of 38 is expected by society, almost demanded, to put away seemingly childish quests in place of being sensible. To make a good wife, mother and daughter. To hold a steady job and create a beautiful home (soooo much more to say on this topic, but I’ll save that juice nugget for my article on the patriarchy).
I had recently lost my effervescent optimism in place of this nagging irritability and I realise now, it’s because I’m going against my true nature. The way a bird locked in a cage feels, when her wings were created to soar above the clouds. The nature that wants me to run barefoot in the rain and spin in circles. The nature that makes me aspire to find my next singing gig instead of scrolling through the Baby Bunting site looking at cribs for my future babies. The nature that makes me sit at work thinking of my next three blog topics instead of topping up the bowl of Mentos in the boardroom or the Tim Tams in the kitchen.
If you’ve seen that Goddess of a woman Lady Gaga in her Oscar Nominated performance in A Star Is Born, you might recall the opening scene of her working in a restaurant, late for her singing gig because her boss makes her take out bags of trash before she clocks off. She walks slowly up the ramp of a dirty basement, in plain work clothes, with plain swept up hair, spinning around slowly as she sings the words to ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’:
“When all the world is a hopeless jumble
and the raindrops tumble all around.
Heaven opens a magic lane.
When all the clouds darken up the skyway
There’s a rainbow highway to be found”…
As the words A STAR IS BORN slowly emerge on the screen. A girl who most might walk by as just another invisible person. But inside, she is a superstar.
In the words of real life Gaga herself: “I’ve always been famous, it’s just no one knew it yet”.
(GIF courtesy of https://makeagif.com )
I simply refuse to believe that we were put here to merely go to the gym, wash the dishes, go to work, have zoom meetings, make dinner, wash and hang the laundry, sleep and repeat. To be ‘good girls’. To follow the rules. To get praise from our parents, our teachers, our bosses. To make a good home for our husbands and children and host insta-worthy parties. Although if I do host a party, you’d best believe that there’s a damn good cheese platter on–hand and the Aperol is flowing. As an Italian, there are just standards that must be up-held, for the love of good food and drinks (not because that’s what’s expected of me of course).
At least I’m one of the lucky ones who married a guy with values that mirror my own. He has no expectations of me other than to do what makes me happy, because he’s woke enough to have noticed that on the days when I do something amazing for myself, I come home with beautiful energy that in turn, makes me a better wife, neighbour, colleague, daughter, sister, aunty, friend.
This year marked ten years since my first solo trip overseas. I had just exited a highly dangerous, toxic relationship and sent myself to Italy for two weeks on a Contiki tour. I could have visited multiple cities throughout Europe, but it felt cathartic for me to stick only to Italy and visit so much of my heritage as I rediscovered myself. I really found a special part of Steph there, and she lives in a little pocket in my chest always, licking on hazelnut gelato and immersing from the ocean onto rocks so damn hot I can almost feel them burning right now.
We must live a life that sets our souls ablaze. If we can’t travel yet, we must find something else. That’s when the magic finds us.
Many times throughout life and particularly this lockdown, I have lost myself. As I’m sure many of you have. But eventually, I always find myself again. I feel the veil lift, I open my ears to The Universe, and she recommences speaking to me in her riddles that make me know I’m part of something special and much bigger than me.
As the lockdown restrictions begin to ease in a matter of days, don’t forget that it allowed you a breather. Time to rest and discover something about yourself. It was a re-set. An unravelling and putting back together.
Because maybe, just maybe, the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything, but un-becoming everything that really isn’t you.
(GIF courtesy of gfycat.com)
