letter #11

we're all making our own sense of things
The dog ate my diary. Mostly, he only chewed the first half of the year--the days that are already gone--but it is enough that the book itself is pretty much destroyed and I need a new one.
In truth, the dog has done me a kind of favour. I spent (as usual) hours (days, weeks) last November choosing a new diary. This website, that website, this stationery shop, that stationery shop. Finally I ordered it and waited with great anticipation for it to arrive.
But right from the beginning that diary has been less than satisfactory. For one thing, I ordered the refill so had to make a cover and that cover didn't quite fit. The cover’s wobbliness detracted from the promise of a fresh new start. Plus, the layout of the diary wasn’t how my mind worked, and I never quite got how to use the diary. So the diary hasn't been helping me to keep my mind in order.
Now, thanks to the dog, I can go and buy a new diary ... and it will be a financial year diary, July to June. This actually makes good sense given that I have three big projects to finish between now and the end of next June and nothing planned for after that.
So I'm filled with that sense of fresh beginnings that I usually get in December or January. Plus! Bonus! All of the financial year diary choices will be pedestrian, so I will not have to spend too much time trying to make sure I don't make the wrong choice, choosing between known and unknown nuance. I can simply walk in, choose whichever shade displeases me the least and walk out.
But in another way, this July to June thing feels like an odd incursion into the rhythm of my year. Like just when I should be settling into things I'm starting again.
This was one of the hardest things I found about living in Abu Dhabi. There were so many markers, so many places throughout the year when it was time to start again. There was the Christmas/January New Year break which I was used to, but they were in winter and not summer. Then, there was the end of the school year in June...a definite winding-down especially because so many of the people I knew would leave Abu Dhabi to travel or visit family or some combination of the two. Then we would return in late August or early September and the school year would begin again. But just a short while later, the January new year would approach.
On facebook and instagram and in emails from friends, I'm watching this sense of mid-year movement from afar. Physically, I feel relief. That I do not have to leave anywhere, and I do not have to find somewhere to be (because even coming home to Adelaide I had to find us a place to stay that didn't cost me too much in money or in friendship--I was always aware that, like fish, visitors start to stink after three days). I mean, I have to leave home to get a new diary, but I'll just drop in to officeworks on my way to get the dog from the vet where he is spending the day having his reproductive possibilities limited. But apart from that, I’m staying put. In Adelaide.
Here in Adelaide, I live close enough to the airport that I hear the rumble of international flights taking off. This is Adelaide, there's only six international flights each day, so they don't disturb me. In fact, that sound stirs my soul in the same way the wattlebirds do when they wake me in the morning. Reminding me of a life I used to lead.
I do miss the opportunities for travel, but the constant coming and going, the constant ending and beginning was draining. And this was one of the main reasons I decided that I wanted to come home, to stay home. So that I could spend some time not moving.
It took me by surprise, understanding that I wanted to stop moving and be still. My entire adult life had been focussed on movement, on travel, on always experiencing something new. The first graduate pay cheque I banked (and yes, it was a cheque, and yes, I took it to the bank) was divided into living expenses and travel savings. (My very first pay from my casual uni work came in cash! In envelopes!)
I think, too, I had always assumed that always doing something new would be good for creativity and for my writing. (In fact, I was pretty sure that writers did not come from places like Port Pirie or even Adelaide). Perhaps travelling and moving has been good for my writing, but I didn't get all that much writing done while we were living in Abu Dhabi. Sitting still is far better for getting writing done.
None of this is really what I intended to write.
I thought I would write about the nourishment of routine, another benefit of age that I am growing to appreciate more each day. I suppose I have kind of written about that. Anyway, whether it’s what I intended to write, it is what I have written.
Thank you for reading. And thank you for your replies to my last tinyletter, and I’m sorry if I haven’t replied to you. I didn't realise I had changed my settings so I only see replies if I’m logged into tinyletter. I’m going to get better at that.
Whatever you are doing and wherever you are — whether you are feeling settled or are in a time of transition or uncertainty — I send you my love.
Tracy xx
I have been doing a lot of knitting, so have watched a lot of series. Although sometimes with knitting, I get caught in the simple back and forth, so I don't watch with great attention. I'm a bit between series at the moment, but I'm thinking of watching The End of the F***ing World again. It's exactly how I like my dramas, sweet but visceral. And I want to start reading deeply again. I haven't been reading enough lately. It's hard to knit and read.