Moving On Up….
So it turns out that moving house is about as easy as shoving a pinecone sideways up my own backside without the aid of Vaseline and is just as much fun. The housing market, or at least that in the East of Sussex, continues to be in the doldrums with some properties taking up to a year to sell. Let’s not even go there, I am already bored senseless with re-tidying my already tidy house. Then there’s the expectations of the children to manage: everyone advised us we needed to prepare the kids for such a large move so we did that. Thoroughly it would seem, and they are both fully on board with it. Now, of course, they just want to get on with it and they ask accusingly as another week goes by “So when ARE we actually moving?” as if there is something we can actually do about it. Aaggh!
So I have decided to stop the subconscious ramming of woodland flora up my own orifice and think jolly thoughts. Positive thoughts that may just, miraculously, bring forth the desired outcome.
To kick-start the process, I have been reading “The Secret” by Rhonda Byrne. I’ll confess I bought the book about two years ago and it has been gathering dust on my shelf ever since. I am not much given to introspection, Zen, mumbo-jumbo, belief in a divine power or NLP of any sort so this has been a first for me. Nevertheless, the current house-sale stagnation has forced me to seek out alternative ways to deal with my frustration other than verbally bashing the family or gnawing my fingernails down to a soggy pulp. Hence “The Secret” and its wise teachings. I remain unconvinced that positivity alone will move a matter forwards. I am also not given to trying to direct the future. I have always felt it best not to dwell too much on what I want to happen since I am usually thrust so deeply in amongst what IS happening that I can’t possibly contemplate a future past wine o’clock tonight.
There’s also this whole business of repeating affirmationsto myself like some sort of sad nutcase – the book does not mention when I am meant to do this? In private in front of a mirror, similar to a goldfish mouthing to itself in a tank? In public, on the train with complete strangers within earshot? When IS the right time to mumble comforting phrases to myself without appearing to be losing my marbles? I am still unclear on this point and have been doing them a bit ad-hoc until I figure it out.
I admit I would like my inner cynic to be proved very wrong. I have already found the basics of the book helpful. I have (in the bath) told the Universe I am worth my weight in gold, I have (in my car) written a “cheque” to myself for what I think I need for our future, and I have thought relentlessly positively for countless days now. If nothing else, the upside of such concentration is the halting of my descent into a negative screeching spiral of: “Mo-fo busstard estate agent from hell!” or “Asswipe ignorant two-bit cheap prospective purchasers!” etc. Which can only be a very good thing. So let’s see what happens – come on, Universe, surprise me!
To end, I thought I would share today’s positive thoughts with you: Firstly, I feel notably thinner than I did yesterday for reasons I cannot fathom given the sheer number of Rich Tea biscuits consumed before bedtime last night. Secondly, I have no noticeable plants of an alpine nature growing from my butt. It’s all good so far. Watch this very uplifting space.