I post to social media as part of my job! I get lots of referrals via SM… I run a digital practice, after all!” And all of this is true. I justified the time to myself: “I work from there. And it got me asking some hard questions about how I spend my time on my phone. I am and how I spend all my days in a field of poppies surrounded by intentions, handwoven baskets and mindful meditations. “What a great idea!” I thought, looking forward to posting screenshots of how # unplugged This week, I was reading about the iOS12 update and how you can track your weekly screentime. And helping each other to see the humanity in it. Talking to a therapist isn’t a panacea or a silver bullet (to be clear: any kind of therapy that involves any kind of bullet is probably a really bad idea) – it’s two or more humans being just that. But being aware of our imperfections, admitting to when we have done wrong, apologising for any transgressions, being kind to ourselves and others and choosing to do better is how we GROW. Not exactly the image of a cool, calm and collected therapist! Which is gently pulsing a tattoo over my left eyeball as I type this. Added to all this, I had my morning coffee but not a drop of water since, so I had a horrible headache by about 10am. So ten to one the whole lot is going to smell mouldy by the time I get back to it. Returning to my to-do list I nursed my wounds by congratulating myself for having the foresight to (rather cleverly, I thought) put the washing in last night…until I realised that I didn’t move it over to the drier. To be clear, there was only a scowl and a mildly disapproving twitch of the neck…but they were British. …only to be sharply reprimanded by a pedestrian that I was not obeying the rules of the road, clearly demonstrating the worst of my character flaws and endangering all and sundry’s lives to boot. After some flamenco-esque wheel-turning over and around the pavement, I finally edged free. Slow and steady.and right for my windscreen. “No problem”, I thought, “people do this all the time, and I took that defensive driving course back in South Africa – this will be a doddle!” I started mentally ticking off my to-do list as I drove along our country lanes (honestly, they are so narrow two pencil sketches of bicycles would have to negotiate passing each other) when an enormous lorry lumbered towards me from around a bend. “That’s ok, life happens – there’s a reason the microwave has a defrost function!” I am a paragon of virtue and patience. …until I remember that in my haste, I forgot to take the food prep bags out to defrost (yes friends, I do food prep – I am moments away from becoming an actual saint), so it will be be a rush when I get home tonight. Victories quickly forgotten in the brush-your-teeth-and-put-your-shoes-on-please morning mantra, I chivvy the family along and the morning slips back into the familiar and comforting routine. “Never mind, I have spares, I’ll find them later.” I quietly smile at myself for being so relaxed about potential disaster. Blind panic as the minutes ticked by before the school drop-off. They were not in my hand, the car – or anywhere in a 10 mile radius. It started off with me feeling incredibly noble by putting school bags, projects and sports kits in the back of my car before it was time to go so there wouldn’t be pandemonium, bending down to move something in the garage…and then realising I had lost the keys.
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