Inevitably this week with the loss of two prominent famous people I’m drawn to write about loss. Sometimes I try to write my blog without mentioning death or grief. I know it can make an unhappy read. In fact someone told me a few weeks ago that my blog can be a very “hard read”.
I know that, so thank you for persevering.
I also hope that the essence of my blog shines through the greyness of grief. Life is hard. For me. For you. Maybe not now. Or always. At some point it will be. It’ll also be good. It changes. It’ll be so happy you squeal a bit. It’ll be so much fun you’ll fill your eyes with unexpected tears from laughing. It’ll be exciting. It’ll be beautifully full. It’ll be both.
So here we are. I’m sorry I’m going to talk about death. Two deaths this week rocked the obituaries. Bowie and Alan Rickman. I almost cried at Bowie’s death. I don’t know why. I just felt so sad about it. He changed the lives of so many people by being himself. He allowed others to know that was OK. And Mr Rickman was in one of my favourite ever films. Truly Madly Deeply. Go watch if you haven’t seen it but stock up on the tissues. He always came across as a sincere intelligent and kind man. I didn’t know them but inevitably through their fame felt to know the tiniest part of them.
Losing people without doubt heightens your concern and angst about your own life. Especially when you’re hurtling forward through the decades. I keep trying to live the life I want now instead of the one I thought I had to. I’m trying to stop wanting to please everybody because I’ve realised I can’t. I’m trying to be less materialistic because I know a new sofa will never make anyone happy. I’m being a tad more selfish and am saying no a bit more often. Occasionally I even sit down instead of rushing to do the next thing as soon as I get in from work.
Gasp. You might catch me with a cup of camomile and a book for 15 minutes before I start chopping the courgettes and carrots. I find that really difficult to do. I feel selfish. But I’m trying not to.
Learning from experience, your own and others is what’s important. I’m still getting it wrong too. That is life.
I said to a friend this week in a very motherly way as she excitedly sent me a link to a new house she’s buying. .. be careful, a house won’t make you happy. I felt bad that I’d reacted this way but I wish that someone had said that to me ten years ago. Because it’s true. A house doesn’t make you happy. Or a new car or that fabulous pair of shoes. Actually scrap that last one. Shoes can make you happy!
I guess the point is what the point always is. Today do what makes you truly happy whenever you can. We’re all busy but don’t be too busy for you.