Day 22-calm, happy, energetic

 Recently a child I know pointed to their kimochi poster and identified they were calm, happy and energetic, which is how I feel too. It is the combination of being alcohol free, and recalling the advice from Yvie about self care (not cardio, not carbs, but strength training and protein and sleep, more sleep). 

On Monday evening I returned to the pool and swam 1km, mostly kickboard but there was breast stroke and freestyle in there, and I felt myself moving faster, the longer I went. My legs felt it afterwards, it is 'old lady' movements in the morning, but I have borrowed the delightfully illustrated yoga for birds to try and work out a home routine that I can manage-five minutes is fine. 

I've been trying to drink more water, and definitely drinking more tea, and also practicing delayed gratification with spending, to see if can find something cheaper, or go without, or wait until it's on sale. A lot of this is the effect of the company I am keeping-my supervisor is great, and practices what he preaches, so the parenting skills he coaches, are ones he's applied at home. My student partner is also lovely, has a lovely way of speaking, is confident in a low key way (she admits to not feeling it inside), and backs me up on our work together, which has involved lots of paediatrics, and disability, and people who haven't had easy lives, and where hope feels limited and hazards many. 

My son has been asked to perform with his band at a music festival this weekend, they're excited in the way that teenagers are, and I hope it lives up to their expectations and it's fun for their audience, they feel kinship to their peers. Music has been absorbing the way I wanted, a parenting win. His viola friend, Yiannis, has, however, moved back to Greece, just as they became friends, I feel sad, as always, when friendships are cut short by circumstances, but at least he's alive and healthy and left for a good reason. 

My old friend J has been on my mind a lot, possibly because I've intermittently spent time in her old hood, swimming in the outdoor pool, walking along the creek with my son, thinking of it as a holiday away from home, admiring the way that on the west side of the road, it's a little more homey, and on the east side it's a bit upmarket, and some people do renovations that interest me (it's the same neighbourhood where my other friend J, and her partner, grew up), with doors and windows I like. It's also because I've learnt about MS, in my studies, and J was diagnosed with MS about 15 years ago, at the same time she met the father of her child, influencing the decisions she was making at a time that everyone else assumes they'll have a family and a long life. J was in a position to not work and prioritise her health, doing healthy eating and meditation and I don't believe she's been badly affected as others are, but now she's had to have treatment for breast cancer, whilst living overseas, and it's prompted her return. I'm uncertain if we'll resume our in person friendship, which I neglected by not taking the initiative for the common reasons (so much on at once, and lacking the insight to interpret what I needed to invest in, emotionally), but we've had some interesting chats. 

J, like the other J, urged me to let go of past grief, so it doesn't turn into grievances, (not easy when it feels like a fierce anger running through you like ice), to be prepared for things getting worse and mak the most of things being okay/good. Prepare for a rainy day. When we were young, J would write to me in Sydney, pleased that I seemed happier far from my biological family, no longer carrying someone else's backpack of depression, or ruminating on things too ponderously. She also noticed, as I didn't, that I was working in an environment that provided a lot of sustenance emotionally, and used all my observational skills for the personalities of people around me. Perhaps I noticed the things I didn't have, like parents who paid my rent and bought my car and funded overseas travel (sigh) and missed that I was learning how to craft my own version of life, a more empowering one, where these 'rewards' would eventually be achieved, and be the sweeter for being the sum of my labour. I had the advantage that others didn't, of meaning and purpose, my work had integrity and though it didn't engage me intellectually or provide the sense of competency that I later felt, as I transitioned into clinical education, it always felt like my effort yielded a response. And it allowed me space to grow up and absorb lessons about society in one of the most intriguing and aspirational parts of Sydney, surrounded by leaders in their field, many impressive women who had managed to climb the ladder, or combine work and family life, or had shifted across the continent, and ignored the mental prison that I still felt enclosed by, whereby I thought money was the barrier-yes it is, but not as much as I used to feel, there's always a sideways work around to have the best life you can manage, with the resources you have, it's never too late to try for a goal, but the more important thing is that it's your goal, not a misguided effort to go for something you wished you had in the past, that you no longer need. 

So, J is returning, meanwhile decluttering (I told her the only things she needs to bring back are photos and pyjamas, she agreed). She said she's failed to manage a career and parenting, and I told her otherwise, I said that unless it's financially necessary, the career isn't as important as her health, and I feel as though I've made peace with what personal value I draw from career, beyond the necessity of income, and that took a while, to know my expertise, be proud of what I've achieved, and no longer worry if others replace me in currency, as my worth is unassailable. The calmness I feel now, influences how I work, how I prepare, and persist, and I can sense that the brain fog of perimenopause has lifted and energy levels are rising, day by day. I have plans for cakes to bake, food to cook, art projects to set up, child rearing pivots to make. After school, I sat with my son's guitar and watched him play soccer, realising it's something they do for 15 minutes or so, then abandon, a way of unwinding before they head home. I have ideas about where he needs to develop next and what I can do, and how most of it is consistency and not giving up, the effort being in establishing the routines, with some joy wrapped around it. 

I also have minor things I want to try and do in the next week: garage sale in Thebarton, see the Hype and Seek design thingo in the CBD, get the teenager up to the hills by 1pm, make my way back with some sight seeing, swim, see the films I'm interested in at Adelaide Film Festival, watch his band play, do the bird counting with my youngest (app to be downloaded), make some headway on my scoping review (select articles, do the first draft with all the sub headings set up and some concepts fleshed out), fold up the washing, work out how to play the bento board game, print out photos of U9 football season, make up the kids birthday and christmas wishlist, be nice to my family (it can be an effort) and measure up the book shelves that I would like to commission my step brother to make, and sort out my sewing box, and roll up my rugs for storage and work out how to celebrate not crush the bogong moths circulating our house (and sometimes making it indoors, to the peril of my favourite coat and jumpers). Also need to buy replacement chargers after a power surge broke our appliances (some) and make decisions about my eldest that are time dependent (hello, Term four), and squeeze in some exercise. 

I should also write thank you cards for my lecturers.