I was wrong, before.
I can still feel like a human being when I am at work. I can still be myself, and be creative and happy. Just because I am not in a museum, or a foreign country, or out with friends, or in a position of influence in my job, it doesn't mean that I have to put myself on hold.
Considering the decision I have made, to put my career on hold for the next 15 months at least, it's really important that I get this notion out of my head that 'life begins when you have a career.' Every day is an opportunity to meet new people, to discover new things (about yourself and about the world), whether you are travelling the world or working in a corner shop, looking after your children or working in a school.
Neither of us have ever 'put our lives on hold', and we never will. There is no such thing.
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Saturday, 21 May 2011
learning.
As this season of my life draws to an end, I know that one of the most important lessons I have learned is nothing to do with Biology. True, I probably can't be sure that this lesson needn't necessarily have come with a £10,500 price tag. Maybe every 22 year old has come to learn this lesson, like it's one of those things that happens. Like you'll go through puberty and you'll go through the menopause, maybe everyone comes to know:
There is no such thing as a wrong decision.
Energy spent on considering whether what you did four years ago or four weeks ago was for the good or for the bad is wasted energy. All you can do is live with what you have now and try to be happy with it. Making a decision is choosing which direction to turn when you come to a fork in a road; once you have chosen, there is no way to know what could happen on any path other than the path upon which you chose to walk. So what's the point in worrying about what might have happened? It didn't and it can't. So just carry on on your path: skip or dawdle or trundle or crawl, or be dragged by those who have the strength and love to drag you. And while you're there, admire the view.
There is no such thing as a wrong decision.
Energy spent on considering whether what you did four years ago or four weeks ago was for the good or for the bad is wasted energy. All you can do is live with what you have now and try to be happy with it. Making a decision is choosing which direction to turn when you come to a fork in a road; once you have chosen, there is no way to know what could happen on any path other than the path upon which you chose to walk. So what's the point in worrying about what might have happened? It didn't and it can't. So just carry on on your path: skip or dawdle or trundle or crawl, or be dragged by those who have the strength and love to drag you. And while you're there, admire the view.
Monday, 16 May 2011
revolutionary road.
As previously mentioned, I'm not an avid reader. This is something I would like to change, as I know how truly beautiful reading can be. But I am just very impatient, and a bit demanding. So, in my attempt to change and be a bit more open minded, I'm going to write about one of the last books I read and loved. And hope it inspires me to keep going with my current book, 'The Essence of the Thing", by Madeline St John.
Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates
I don't know why this book appealed to me. But it did. And I couldn't put it down. My best friend also tried to read it, and to watch the film; she enjoyed both but labelled the story a 'nothing story', because not much happens. True, it's not an action thriller, but the unfolding of the characters and the building intensity of their desperation really had me hooked.
I think it might be because I could really identify with the main female character, April Wheeler. April is a 30-something young mother of two, married to a business man, living in the suburbs of 1950s America. Ok, so I am none of these things, but I think many of us share the same passions and fears. To be happy, to be independent; but mainly to be somewhat unpredictable and non-conformist in achieving these goals- to be afraid of 'selling out'.
April and Frank Wheeler met when they were young and dreamt of the same things as most young people; travel, adventure, the ability to continue dreaming well into their later life, without feeling constricted or part of a repressive, invisible 'system'.
Unfortuately, the 'reality' of age, independence, family, work and money set in. Significantly, the story skips from the couple's meeting to several years later when they own a house in suburbia with two children. The juxtaposition of the two scenarios emphasises just how much has changed, and maybe how much the couple 'got lost'. Whether this loss of orientation as we grow is due to the unavoidable circumstances of ageing; having to work, having to maintain a house, having to take care of children, or whether it is only due to lack of passion, persistence, love and sprit in the Wheelers as a couple specifically could be a point for alternative interpretation. It seems pretty clear however, that Yates would argue the former. So yes, it's a pretty depressing story. If still intriguing.
In one of the parts of the book I remember (it was three years ago, and I don't have a copy of the book here), Frank is digging out a garden path while his children play nearby. They keep moving slowly closer to their father, and Frank has an irrepressible mental image of accidently hitting his son's hand with the spade as he digs. He loses his temper with the children and tells them to go inside and play. The scene emphasised, to me, how close we are to disaster; how there are no barriers between us and any pending accidents. Also, it seemed to speak of how, no matter how careful we are, there are some factors which cannot be controlled (ie where children will play, or when pregnancy may fall, or when an unexpected bill may arrive), and thus how we cannot plan every step of our lives.
As April attempts to re-ignite the couples dreams of what marriage life could be there, Frank becomes more involved with his work. Though he consistently speaks of how monotonous his job is, and how there is no alternative to be able to provide for his family, he starts to build relationships and success within the company. The couple are pulled further apart and both encounter love affairs.
Interestingly, when I read the book, I identified April and an overly dreamy, unrealistic, irritating and 'ditsy' character. To be honest, I compared myself to her at the time, as I identified my personal emotional nature as a flaw, and I saw it as something which others would find irritating. I saw Frank as the 'hero', who was merely falling into his conformist ways as a result of his desperation to support his family, and falling into a love affair due to his wife's irritating and unsupportive nature. I was shocked when I later saw the film then, and it was clear that the director thought the complete opposite. Kate Winslet's April was emphasised as more of a 'victim', but still headstrong, intelligent and loving. Leonardo Dicaprio's Frank became more and more hostile and 'unlikeable' as the story progressed.
Though the story is far from uplifting, or inspirational, I'm still glad I read it, and I'll probably read it again. I'd recommend it to anyone who isn't too uncomfortable already about the notion of 'growing up'...
Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates
I don't know why this book appealed to me. But it did. And I couldn't put it down. My best friend also tried to read it, and to watch the film; she enjoyed both but labelled the story a 'nothing story', because not much happens. True, it's not an action thriller, but the unfolding of the characters and the building intensity of their desperation really had me hooked.
I think it might be because I could really identify with the main female character, April Wheeler. April is a 30-something young mother of two, married to a business man, living in the suburbs of 1950s America. Ok, so I am none of these things, but I think many of us share the same passions and fears. To be happy, to be independent; but mainly to be somewhat unpredictable and non-conformist in achieving these goals- to be afraid of 'selling out'.
April and Frank Wheeler met when they were young and dreamt of the same things as most young people; travel, adventure, the ability to continue dreaming well into their later life, without feeling constricted or part of a repressive, invisible 'system'.
Unfortuately, the 'reality' of age, independence, family, work and money set in. Significantly, the story skips from the couple's meeting to several years later when they own a house in suburbia with two children. The juxtaposition of the two scenarios emphasises just how much has changed, and maybe how much the couple 'got lost'. Whether this loss of orientation as we grow is due to the unavoidable circumstances of ageing; having to work, having to maintain a house, having to take care of children, or whether it is only due to lack of passion, persistence, love and sprit in the Wheelers as a couple specifically could be a point for alternative interpretation. It seems pretty clear however, that Yates would argue the former. So yes, it's a pretty depressing story. If still intriguing.
In one of the parts of the book I remember (it was three years ago, and I don't have a copy of the book here), Frank is digging out a garden path while his children play nearby. They keep moving slowly closer to their father, and Frank has an irrepressible mental image of accidently hitting his son's hand with the spade as he digs. He loses his temper with the children and tells them to go inside and play. The scene emphasised, to me, how close we are to disaster; how there are no barriers between us and any pending accidents. Also, it seemed to speak of how, no matter how careful we are, there are some factors which cannot be controlled (ie where children will play, or when pregnancy may fall, or when an unexpected bill may arrive), and thus how we cannot plan every step of our lives.
As April attempts to re-ignite the couples dreams of what marriage life could be there, Frank becomes more involved with his work. Though he consistently speaks of how monotonous his job is, and how there is no alternative to be able to provide for his family, he starts to build relationships and success within the company. The couple are pulled further apart and both encounter love affairs.
Interestingly, when I read the book, I identified April and an overly dreamy, unrealistic, irritating and 'ditsy' character. To be honest, I compared myself to her at the time, as I identified my personal emotional nature as a flaw, and I saw it as something which others would find irritating. I saw Frank as the 'hero', who was merely falling into his conformist ways as a result of his desperation to support his family, and falling into a love affair due to his wife's irritating and unsupportive nature. I was shocked when I later saw the film then, and it was clear that the director thought the complete opposite. Kate Winslet's April was emphasised as more of a 'victim', but still headstrong, intelligent and loving. Leonardo Dicaprio's Frank became more and more hostile and 'unlikeable' as the story progressed.
Though the story is far from uplifting, or inspirational, I'm still glad I read it, and I'll probably read it again. I'd recommend it to anyone who isn't too uncomfortable already about the notion of 'growing up'...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)