Today was not what I would call successful per se. Last night I thought, “better do my to-do list so I’ll feel productive tomorrow”, I didn’t really do that list. So with the most mediocre and non-committal of intentions, I set my alarm for earlier than need be…to be productive. I pressed snooze, productivity can wait I thought, the extra sleep will be beneficial. Eventually, I got up, about 45mins after the initial alarm. No harm, the day is young. I ate breakfast, turned on the radio and contemplated my next move. Swim, write, edit the podcast, buy outstanding non-consumerist ‘experience’ Christmas, birthday and wedding gifts, make soup, lose weight, learn Tai Chi etc. Where to start I thought, I want the right environment to do all these things, it must ‘feel right’. Not home because I’ll get distracted. Not my favourite Bondi haunts, because they’re too familiar, I’ll get distracted people watching and it’ll be busy, school holidays are very busy. Ok, the library, but which library. Waverley, kinda chilly and no comfy seats, Double Bay, possibly busy with school holiday stuff but, beautiful and super comfy…I’ll take the risk. So after a few hours of pretending to get ready while half listening to Radio National, I pack my bag, laptop, glass bottle of water, two notebooks, the work in progress notebook and the fresh 2019 Moleskine where I’ll lay bare my wondrous plans for the year ahead and feel gloriously fulfilled.
Arrive at the halfway point and decide some snacks are in order, snacks, healthy snacks from the bulk food shop, it’s zero waste heaven and I’m doing my bit, look at me go. It’s busier than I’ve ever seen it so busy it’s un-browse-worthy. I’m inspired by the girl who unpacks her jars one by one filling them with coconut oil, herbs and exotic ancient grains, she is really doing her bit as she brushes past me, ‘excuse me, I’m just trying to get to the spirulina’, spirulina, of course. I know the store but I don’t know what I want, the only thing I know for certain is that the mocha chocolate macadamias are taunting me. So, I think, fine, don’t deny yourself and beat yourself up, you’ve got out of bed, albeit late, but here you are setting out to plan the year ahead, you need sustenance, take the macadamias, you deserve it. By kilo, the mocha macadamias are probably the most expensive thing in the store. I leave $10 lighter in the pocket and ten times less satisfied as I feel the inevitable slump of post-self-congratulatory sugar reward ware off almost immediately as I shove a huge jumbo mega chocolate cacao macadamia in my mouth as I walk hurriedly to my next destination, the library via the bus, can’t walk, raining, feel bad because I can’t walk.
“All is not lost” I reassure myself moments later. Maybe a swim in the under the misty grey clouds, the ultimate reward for the work not yet done. Waiting for bus eagerly trying to absorb a podcast featuring habit hacker Leo Babauta so I can condense everything he’s saying into the better version of myself I’m about to create. I eat another mocha maca drifting into thoughts of a February Whole30 diet extravaganza. Grand, I think. I’ll feel better in Feb. As the bus gets closer I realise there’s a third possible destination and the bus stops, Watson’s bay library! A tiny little library in a heritage cottage by the sea, it’ll be quiet and it’s surrounded by nature, it’s peaceful and serene, the perfect destination for this nature-loving life planning not yet ninja. And I can have that rewarding swim at Camp Cove afterwards. The bus winds its way through the most salubrious of Sydney’s eastern suburbs as the light misty rain continues to descend. Through every road single road in the exclusive eastern enclaves, it seems as I notice the time ticking by. I’ll have to scrap some of the things on this list because the bus has stopped to make up the time so it’s not early for its next stop and there’s just me and a fidgety teenager listening to the whistling chirpy bus driver as he announces, ‘just another 5mins and we’ll get going again’ and I’m thinking every minute that goes by is one less minute for me to start my life-changing plans, or my plans to change my life, “hurry” I think, “just
stay in the moment”I retort, ‘I’ll get there eventually” I say, “fucksake” I relent as I squeeze the brown paper bag of nutty doom, resisting yet another lightly dusted bite of guilt.
I arrive, survey the scene and head for the tiny library on the shore, golf umbrella in hand and a 5kg bag of unnecessary shite on my back. It’s as I’m thinking about the new reward, the swim, that realise I’ve forgotten my swimmers, and my towel. Fuck. Oh well, best-laid plans and all that. I walk into the library which is as delightful as it sounds. But you could swing a cat in there, and there is an acutal cat lying across one of the seats and if I wasn’t so short on time I’d sit down and say hi, but I’m too busy pretending to scan the books, attempting to look purposeful as I have an inward crisis about the lack of suitable life planning, notebook writing seating spots, its too open-plan!! I need a sea view, and there is one, but it’s too exposed, I was counting on a nook.
I sit on said seat to give it the benefit of the doubt, its a bench seat technically and I’d have to swivel with the notebook on my lap to achieve the perfect stance notwithstanding the fact that I’d be at the mercy of the five other people in the place who will be sizing me up, they are regulars I think, greeting each other by their first names, I’m sure they know I’m a fraud, I’ve lived nearby for years and never set foot in the joint. “Here’s another one”, they’ll say to themselves, “no intention of borrowing a book”. I’ve been busted I concede and head for the door. Back out into the drizzle. I try to embrace the discomfort of a day gone slightly wrong. The plans which weren’t really plans have come undone and look at the sea for a while, the colour of the lichen on a huge old fig and then make my way to have a quick look over the barrier down to the rocky cliffs of the Gap. It’s beautiful and sad simultaneously because this place is known for people ending their lives. The Lifeline phone and signs urge people to reach out, all is not lost.
All is most definitely not lost but I continue to strive for something that is lost, the day that should have been is gone, lost in the maelstrom of expectation and procrastination. I head back to Bondi, back on the bus, I enjoy the world going by and feel relief as I near home. I walk up Hall Street, see Gertrude and Alice bursting at the seams, full of writing life-planning types exactly like me, no chance of the ideal nook in there either. Into the Vinnies, maybe a little purchase to lift my mood. It’s jam-packed too, full of more people like me, distracting themselves with the possibility of the perfect op-shop find. I resist. A small but unrewarding victory. I finally find myself sitting in a less-than-inviting but perfectly adequate cafe. I check Instagram, I see Sarah Wilson has found the perfect spot in a much nicer cafe and feel another pang of defeat. “Why did I not go there?” I think, the ideal location to plan one’s life. “Now there’s a woman getting shit done”, I think, and doing her bit, in a big way and Leo Babuatos words whizz around my head, I’m not sure which piece of advice to begin to with and its too late to do anything now anyway so I start to write and relax and to realise the futility of it all. They are both brilliant, inspiring and doing magnificent things. Hopefully, I’ll get there someday. I sip my drink and mindlessly eat another macadamia which is no longer even remotely satisfying. I look at the few photos I took today and appreciate the beauty and remind myself that nature is my salve. A swim was what I wanted, what I needed and I didn’t really need to do something in order to have it. Time in nature is an innate requirement, my meditation, my ritual. So, nature first, work later. The waves will always embrace me, no judgement. The sand will feel always feel good. I’ll enjoy the mist and the rain because it’s as beautiful as the warmth of the sun. The plants are happy, birds are chirping, I notice how the colours change in the rain. Everything changes. Plans change. Days pass. Some days are better than others and all is not lost.