Squaring the circle

So I tried to slow down, but I didn't manage it. I'm not sure how much is my skill (or lack thereof) and how much the line of work I'm in is inherently incompatible with slowing down and simplifying.

There's just so much and I'm just so far from getting it right the first time. Redrafting the same document four, five, six or more times is so down-heartening. Today I was in the office from 8.30 in the morning until 8.10 in the evening, with about twenty minutes to eat lunch. I was almost nodding off at my desk but when certain things just have to be done before you leave, what choice do you have?

It's frustrating because I know that the later I stay, the more tired I get, the worse and less I sleep, which means the next day I'm less focused and less productive. It's a negative cycle but I don't know how to break it. I've reached the tiredness point - I haven't been here since just before my exams when I was 18 - when I find blank walls utterly captivating because they're so calm and my brain gets to rest.

I still think it might be possible - I still want it to be possible - to have a full-time ambitious career in an area I care about (public policy) without sacrificing all other areas of my life. I so want there not to be an irreconcilable conflict, but I'm beginning to doubt this.

It's not all bad news - tomorrow I have the day off and my father is visiting. I'll have time for a little housework, a little baking perhaps, and some gazing at blank walls. I've got a cup of tea next to me (my own home-prepared combination of chamomile, calendula and lavender) and you lovely people to talk to. And I'm indulging in one of the most comforting and least taxing books I know - 'Cherry Cake and Ginger Beer' by Jane Brocket. It is technically a recipe book, but each recipe is introduced, talking about who eats/drinks it and in which book, musing on memories of reading them, and taking me on a delightful tour of childhood memories. They are all recipes as enticing in imagination as in reality, especially as the imagination supplies the environment - on Wild Cat Island after a midnight naval battle, or in front of the range wrapped in a shawl in the Little White Cottage With The Thatched Roof.

Picture nicked from amazon.com

I'll be back tomorrow with a more positive frame of mind.

A Jonah week

I'm having one of those weeks, and it's only Tuesday. I keep making mistakes at work - silly little mistakes, and several big whoppers. Of course this happens the week of my review. Of course.

One of the principles that we strive for - whether we are simple living, homesteading, minimalist or any other related philosophy - is resilience. It's in many ways a more useful concept even than sustainability, in my opinion, focusing on building the ability to absorb shock locally. Resilient food chains focus on local rather than organic, for example.

Resilience is a personal skill too - the ability to adapt to a changing environment, to dust oneself off and keep on putting the nose to the grindstone.

Today I am practicing resilience at work. I'm taking a deep breath, making a cup of tea, and taking a few minutes to be warmed and cheered by the early spring sunshine. I'm slowing down - rushing means more mistakes - doing each thing that comes my way carefully and checking it before sending.

One thing at a time - that's at the heart of simple living, isn't it? By doing one thing at a time, and focusing on doing it well, we get far more done than when we try to multitask, constantly connected to multiple inputs. One thing a time, one foot in front of the other. The weekend will get here, and with it my seeds for my new garden, a visit from family, and maybe even another batch of yoghurt.

Frugality vs minimalism

Every time I set myself to some decluttering, I end up facing the same dilemma.

We all struggle to let go of clutter with sentimental baggage attached - we might not need, want or use it any more but we still struggle to let it go. That's totally normal, and in fact I am feeling as though with some items it's only a matter of giving myself time to build up to it, or even better, finding a better 'tribute' to that person or experience.

However, a huge proportion of the clutter in my life is not sentimental baggage, but practical things. Stationery, for example - half-used pads of paper, slowly drying pens, battered ring binders, dividers with the ghost of previous uses and crumpled document wallets. The leftovers of various packs of notepaper and cards, usually intended for thank you letters and now collecting dust.

This kind of thing just takes space. HUGE amounts of space. But I struggle to let go of it because it seems wasteful - surely the frugal thing is to hang on to these, and use them? The very rare occasions when I need something and dig it out of my pile rather than go out and buy something seem to reinforce this, even though the frequency pales in comparison to the way my heart sinks every time I open the cupboard door and see this:

And then what do I do with it if I can let it go? Chuck it in the bin and consign it to landfill? Most of this isn't recyclable, but also isn't any where near good enough condition to be sold. I could donate if I knew anyone who would use it, but how on earth to I identify a charity in need of basic stationery?

I think this is probably a fairly typical dilemma faced with decluttering. In an ideal world, I just wouldn't have accumulated this stuff, but I have and I need to face up to that and work out how to move forward.

The most ridiculous thing about all this is that I'm wasting so much time and energy worrying about something so unimportant. Maybe the easiest thing is to just chuck the whole pile out and be careful what I keep or buy in future - but that just feels so wasteful!

Live to work or work to live?

I work for a consultancy, which means that the workload varies hugely because each individual client will bring you ad-hoc projects which you need to do to their schedule, rather than asking them if they'd mind until you've cleared another client's work off your desk. 

This means that very very occasionally I have very little on my plate, and a lot of the time I am juggling multiple projects on very different issues on tight deadlines, while still having to complete certain daily, weekly and monthly tasks supporting my colleagues. (For example, I check a large number of websites and compile a summary email of relevant developments every day).

This is to some extent the nature of the sector, but the level of work we handle is also a reflection of the company in general and my boss in particular. My boss works crazy hours - 11pm on a Friday and 6am on a Saturday - and gets frustrated when I'm not immediately responsive. It should be noted also that senior staff are paid by the hour, while I get paid until 5.36 pm and every minute past that is unremunerated.

I think we have very different ideas of a normal workload in this sense - I am happy to muck in on a weekend if a completely unforeseeable crisis arises and we have to do damage control, but not on a regular basis or a matter of routine. I enjoy (most of) my work but I also enjoy time at home, and I need time to unwind, destress and switch off in order to carry on juggling the next day without dropping any of the balls.

I think in many ways we (society in general, not just my company) need to change things around. The goal should not be working until 11pm, but that all team members are stretched, challenged, envigorated and then sent home at a reasonable hour. Whether through taking on more staff or changing how the work is handled, the goal should be for everyone to leave at 5.30 or at the latest 6. When I leave at 6.30 I always feel I have to apologise to my colleagues for leaving so early, even though I know that working late means I don't sleep well and then work much slower the next day.

I don't want to have to choose between a fulfilling and challenging career, and being able to be home in time to eat dinner with my boyfriend, and do a little knitting. Why do they have to conflict, why is there a tension? And this is without having children - I can well imagine that being a far more frustrating part of life to be conflicting with workload.

I would like to see companies reward and incentivise employees who can manage their workload effectively within a shorter working day, rather than creating a culture that normalises long hours and effectively penalises employees who leave earlier.

Slow and steady

It takes time to build a slower, simpler, more deliberate life. It doesn't happen overnight. But it's easy to get impatient, to be super enthusiastic, and to try everything at once, make a total shift. It's very tempting to try making cheese, baking bread, planting a garden, making soap, sewing a tablecloth and knitting a jumper all at once.

The problem with this is that it's overwhelming. Each new skill, each step, takes time. There are new skills to learn, which may take years to fully develop, and possibly new materials to get to know. Then you will need to experiment to see how the new 'thing' fits into the rest of your life, and how you can best use it towards your goals. In all this there will be much trial and error, with a good helping of frustration. 

There may well be tantrums, and I have had plenty - over bread that just wouldn't form a nice, bready dough but insisted on remaining very wet. Over beeswax resolutely adhering to a measuring jug. Over curtains that became all twisted as they were sewn. Over struggling to stitch a buttonhole on a shirt.

Focusing your efforts on one 'thing' at a time - a new skill, a new habit, a new recipe - means that you give yourself the time and space to get to grips with that one thing more fully. Once you have achieved a degree of comfort, even if not proficiency (ie your bread isn't perfect but it is edible) you can think about adding something else in to the mix.

Throwing yourself headlong into a multitude of crafts and activities just makes it more likely that the frustrations will win out, and you'll give up. Focus instead on conquering just one thing, and treat it as an exercise in focus, in patience, resilience, self-will. Multitasking just means doing several things poorly instead of one thing well, I have found. Focusing on one thing allows you to progress further quicker in that area. You notice your progress, you can feel proud and that motivates you to keep going.

Each activity also very naturally opens up 'extensions.' You might start experimenting with recipes to try your own thing. Baking bread might lead you to try other forms of grain, get a small mill to grind flour fresh, or make your own butter to accompany it. That might in turn lead to trying out scones and biscuits using the buttermilk, or a foray into homemade costmetics as buttermilk is so good for your skin. Perhaps buttermaking draws you into cheeses, or handling grains prompts you to try brewing beer or making barley water. Let your journey evolve naturally. Start from where you are and see where it leads you.

I have really been trying to keep this in mind recently, as I am definitely experiencing a renewed focus on the simple, deliberate life. I am continually tempted to get some cushion inserts so I can make cushions for the living room or do a workshop in woodwork, pottery or jewellery-making, or have a go at making cheese, soap, yogurt or beer. These are all things I want to get to but I am continually reminding myself to slow down, to consolidate the gains I've already made this month, and to take the time to enjoy where I am now, enjoy the journey, rather than focusing on a 'destination'. In fact I think I will probably never feel I am doing 'enough' simply because there will always be more things I want to do, to make, to explore - but I'm beginning to see that as a good thing!

Slow Living 2013 - September

This has been a very rushed month. This weekend - and particularly today - is a most welcome change in pace - much slower, more meditative, more leisurely and more satisfying generally. I feel like I've made a few small steps towards being on top of things, being in control of life generally and choosing which direction to go in, rather than simply reacting. This month has been an insane month at work, with very long hours leaving me very little in the way of time for family, friends and crafty pursuits. This is something that needs to change, although quite how I'm going to do that, I do not know.

So September hasn't been slow. I hope October will be slower. As a reminder, this is part of the Slow Living Month by Month series started by Slow Living Essentials, and this month in particular it is a reminder of how much less I achieve than when I'm focusing on savouring life, to help me focus more in October.

{NOURISH} Lots and lots and LOTS of porridge this month. Lots of 'eeeeew'-s from my boyfriend. I think even I am porridged-out at this point so will have to hunt up my cereal recipe. More homemade bread. I wonder what the next step on this area might be? Almost everything we eat is prepared from scratch

{PREPARE} More reducing than adding to our pile of homemade preserves - munching through jars of jam and marmalade.

{REDUCE} Not sure there's anything here, apart from the usual mending of clothes. Does making my own oil diffuser using an old yoghurt jar count? It's working brilliantly to make the bathroom smell lovelier.

{GREEN} I have switched to using plain shea butter on my face - much better than the oils I was using but not quite where I want it. I'm currently exploring possible combinations. I've also switched to using white vinegar instead of lemon juice to mop the floors, with Eucalyptus oil to mask the smell - much better finish, much shinier and noticeably less sticky

{GROW} Still nothing!

{CREATE} I finished my first ever pair of socks and boy do they feel good! I'm noticing that my feet feel much better after wearing homemade socks - much more cushioned, much warmer. Although I did use synthetic yarn and I think this that real wool might be better at controlling *ahem* odour.

{DISCOVER} I've been doing more Coursera courses - specifically on public health policy, an area increasingly part of my future career plans. The best thing about Coursera is that they are free and have no credit value, so I can take as long as I need to complete them.

{ENHANCE} Much exploring and enjoying of the local market. My cousins came over for the car-free Sunday and we pottered around the big festival in the centre, full of craft beer and animals in front of the royal palace.

{ENJOY} I've had a fair bit of family time this month - via skype more than in person - but I am really reminded that short, frequent contact means you feel much more in touch with each other's lives than longer but more spaced out calls.

Winter is most definitely here

You might have noticed that winter is most definitely arrived. The bed has been turned into a shrine to the God of duvets, blankets and hot water bottles, and we are extremely grateful for the semi-finished-but-still-functioning curtains, which are very noticeably and substantially aiding the insulation of the house.

Work has become super-super busy. 8.30am to 7.30pm or later. Add to that the client drinks and other networking events I am expected to attend, and my free time shrinks to almost zero. Hence why I'm so behind-hand on blogging - and on my emails, messages etc. Balance? The scales are totally to one side. I can be there for my work but not my boyfriend, for my family but not my friends... Does anyone have any magic beans that give you the ability to balance all the things you want to do with and for the people you love, the things that make you who you are and the things that can take you to who you want to become?

No? Well, at least I've got a pair of socks that are comfy and warm. Baby steps, yes? I might not feel in control of my life but at least I'm in control of what I wear under my shoes. (Erm. Yes. Very profound.)

Slowing down should not be rushed

I'm feeling a little embarrassed about my tantrum yesterday - so petty to get so worked up about something so small. I'll leave it up, though, because it is honest. It's not that infrequent for me to get deeply annoyed because I've spent the whole day at work looking forward to some crafting activity, and then I am disappointed in this when I get home.

It's a reminder, I think, not to be in too much of a hurry about slowing down. Building a simple life doesn't happen overnight, it takes time, and the journey should be savoured as an end in itself, not just the means. I had forgotten this last night, but that story had a happy ending - I started with something I could do and sewed on the buttons. I felt calmer after this, remembered the pliers in the cupboard, liberated my seam ripper from its casing and was able to complete one buttonhole before I curled up with a mug of cocoa (inspired by Jane Brockett's Cherry cake and ginger beer)

It's actually by far the best buttonhole I've done yet! I'm using a slightly different stitch (see tutorial here) and it's coming out much more evenly. I think I might need to redo the bars along the bottom, they're sticking out a bit too much, but other than that, not bad for my first ever buttonhole on an actual garment! I'm feeling pretty chuffed.

Next time I'm feeling this frustration, I will take a look at the teeth marks (!) on my seam ripper and remember to slow down, rather than getting worked up.

Technology fail

There have been quite a few posts around blogland recently about honesty in blogging - about how often we only share the good bits, perhaps because we're trying to fool ourselves that our lives really do look that picture perfect.

This evening, I have entirely failed to stitch a buttonhole. An attempt to do so with a machine had me with screw driver, tweezers and scissors trying to excise a ginormous tangle from the depths of machine.

Thinking, 'sod it, I'll do this old-school', the sewing machine went away and out came the needle for hand-worked buttonholes. But oh no. The stitch ripper has jammed - I must have rammed it into its lid too tightly, and I've spent fifteen minutes trying to get it out, resulting in sore fingers and no buttonhole.

My alloted time for crafting has elapsed, leaving me annoyed and frustrated and with NO BUTTONHOLES.

So that's honesty.

UPDATE: Judicious application of pliers has resolved one part of my difficulty. Now I just need to stitch the buttonholes. 

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth

So. D'ya miss me?

Long time, no post - I know. I have two iron-clad excuses - a serious medical event in the family, and a new job which has about doubled my working hours. Between the two, my free time is minimal and my emotional/creative energy almost non-existent. I've only just picked up some sewing again.

But now I'm back, and I'm back with a rant.

Making the unusual habitual

It is so easy to feel that whatever we are doing is not enough - there are so many fantastic examples out there on the web of things people make themselves. I recently saw a tutorial for making a seriously professional-looking wallet. I fully expect to see someone posting about making their own umbrella at some point.

Fail

City fail. I have been into no less than EIGHT SHOPS looking for cup-cake or muffin cases, and NO ONE stocks them. I am more than slightly appalled. Someone has suggested I try a kitchenware shop in the city centre, but that means that I will not have time to make the cupcakes for at least a week. Grrrrrrr....

Another example of the frustrations of expat life - something that would be so easy in a Tesco or Morrisons becomes such a challenge. Especially when no one knows the French word, nor is it in my dictionary. Anyone out there know how to say 'muffin case' in French or Dutch?

Smugness

Does anyone else feel smug about knowing that they've cleaned behind and underneath the cooker?*

This morning, finally - finally! - FINALLY! - our oven was repaired. We may actually be able to bake and roast and things. I took advantage to hoover underneath and to clean up the grease spills left by previous occupants of the flat.

This is very good news, because one of the things I really want to embrace as part of building a 'simple life' is baking bread - aside from the fact that I really enjoy kneading the dough, the magic of watching the bread rise and the smell of baking bread, I also really noticed the difference at lunch. The few days I have managed to bring in a sandwich made from homemade bread, it was much nicer and much more filling, meaning less temptation to battle in the afternoon. I am really looking forward to the day when I will be able to say that I only eat homemade (or locally baked) bread.

Another of the small changes I hope to make is giving up bought-in cakes and biscuits. Aside from the fact that homemade treats are nicer, cheaper and contain less crap, because they are time-consuming to make I appreciate them more and will probably eat them less often!

When the oven was repaired, the leaky tap** and the dodgy lightbulb on the stairs were also fixed. I am a very happy bunny, and my sister would despair at how happy this makes me. Most of my family look on my attempts to make my own, do it myself and go without as amusing idiosyncracies which I will grow out of.

*Please note - I have not yet cleaned inside the oven, a prospect which looms before me with no little amount of intimidation.

** The now not-leaking tap makes me VERY happy, because the leak was causing a build-up of residue on the sink which I CANNOT get off. Lemon juice helps but hasn't got it all - does anyone have any tips?

The times, they are a-changing

So the move is almost upon us, and I can proudly announce that I will be moving house in the most eco-friendly way possible - by train. (That's not the reason, it's actually cheaper because my boyfriend gets these vouchers from work, which give him money off green stuff like train travel). However, the flipside of this is that I can only take what I can carry with me - one suitcase and a big rucksack. That's not a huge amount of stuff, but we're leaving some here.

So there's a lot of emotional stuff flying around right now - I've had an interesting year here, and I think I've learned a lot, but I also feel that I let a lot of opportunities pass me by. Places I didn't go, museums I didn't see, people I didn't befriend as thoroughly as I could have... Some of it was beyond my control - I spent a lot of this spring helping my parents with stuff, but a lot of it was just due to laziness, bluesiness and apathy on my part. I have an ongoing problem with apathy, and it frustrates me no end because I feel that by this age I should be able to get on with tackling problems like a sane adult, rather than putting my head in the sand and hoping they'll go away!

Somehow, I never manage to convert this sense of general regret into a determination to get more out of the next experience - always the apathy and always the sense of lost opportunities. But I'm going to try, this time. Maybe I should make a list? :-)

Small Differences

So today, for a variety of small reasons all mounting up, I've been feeling a bit down. The fates have an acute sense of timing, and I will find myself unemployed in a terrifyingly short space of time at a moment when I really can't run back to my parents place and hide under the covers, which has always been my Plan B up to this point. It's not just that I can't, but that I don't want to be dependent on them. I want to find a way to make the life I want in the place I want, which right now is here. However, the Gods of the Job Market have their own priorities right now, which include laughing in my face a lot.

As a by-product of this, budgeting is getting tighter and tighter, and I'm looking towards a summer in which I will struggle to eat a balanced diet, and it certainly won't be organic. The budget has also proved a stumbling block in some of my other project areas. For example, growing my own food: I need to invest in containers and potting compost, as I can't compost my kitchen scraps (grrrrlandlordgrrrrrr) and also in seeds and seedlings. I've got some growing, but they'll need potting up into larger containers at some point, and I might just have to risk the landlord's wrath and plant them on the edge of the lawn. I'd love to make my own clothes and soft-furnishings, but as I don't have any worn out clothes to play with, I'd have to buy fabrics, and I'd also have to buy a sewing machine. (More on my lustings after a Singer sewing machine later).

All this means that many of the things that make me smile and feel that I'm making a difference in the world, many of the projects which were making me skip with anticipation, will have to be put on hold for probably a good long while. Although I will almost certainly be asking Father Christmas for a Singer sewing machine for Christmas.

However, I was procrastinating by reading some of the old posts on No Impact Man's blog, and thinking gloomily that the tea in my mug was neither fair-trade nor organic, and could only be called local in comparison to Mars. And I came across this post. It's a beautiful parable, and I'm going to ask myself to think of one thing I've done each week which has made a small difference.

This week, I cycled to work instead of taking the tram. That's a small change, but a change.