I am TIRED. This morning I lazed in bed for an extra 40 min and consequently missed my yoga slot much to the lack of amusement of my neck muscles. I felt a little like I had let myself down owing to the fact that my day started with a rush and mostly kept that up until the evening. Ironically the yoga session I missed was titled ‘Discipline Practice’ – oh well…
At the moment I’m finding myself thinking about discipline rather often. As my days get fuller, is discipline the only way to make sure I fit in the things that are important to me? The things that truly support me to do everything else? Or is it the time to be less strict with myself since I am trying to fit so much in? A friend included this Buddhism quote in his email to me yesterday,
“You are your own master, you make your future.
Therefore discipline yourself as a horse-dealer trains a thoroughbred.”
And honestly it makes sense to train yourself to keep up a supportive routine of some kind. Tomorrow 🙂
My first gig was a meeting at the Arts Council sporting my pink trekking backpack that clearly clashed with everything else I was wearing. I got the usual ‘are you a student’ question which I find mildly tedious given the fact that I am almost 34; but which I could also see as a nod to my apparent youth. I blamed the pink backpack and so spent this last hour looking for a replacement that might prove to be a little bit more work-appropriate (who am I and what have I done with Greta?).
I finally learnt how the Arts Council’s tax deduction scheme works which turns out to be rather different from how I thought it did. Very helpful meeting. It also turned out to include an amusing entry into the Arts Council offices as roadworks have blocked the main door. The way in is now through a very Valletta-quirky apartment block complete with a madonna niche and an enviable display of random ‘stuff’.
Walk to Floriana, a few hours of Biennale work and a walk across the street to my marketing stint at 1:30pm. I managed to get there 10 minutes early, just enough time to quickly eat my lunch in the kitchen. Definitely not the way I like to eat although undoubtedly the daily routine of many. The next four hours were intense handover time broken by a few artwork crises, a friendly visit from the CEO and a lot of re-learning of things forgotten. I found it hard to concentrate on procedure for so long, having gotten used to using the creative part of my brain for longer stretches than the more process oriented section.
From there I went to a meeting about a potential project for the Permaculture Foundation and finally walked home close to 8pm. I found Gigi’s supermarket still open and got myself some fruit but could hardly muster the energy to argue with the cashier who insisted I used a different plastic bag for each type of fruit. Oh the irony of meeting a permaculture farmer then buying fruit in plastic bags at the stupidmarket. I did have a chat in the end and we whittled it down to two instead of three. I’m definitely a lot less able to have cheery discussions about these things when tired though. The baker next door saved my mood. Something about the piles of hot, crunchy Maltese bread just out of the oven literally warmed my soul.
At home I made myself some dinner and a spinach and chickpea salad for tomorrow, did some last bits of work and finally got down to writing this diary which I am of course questioning the timing of given my full days. It does feel good to have a reason to look back at my days though and record my progress with visiting aspects of my old life differently and seeing how I actually feel about them.