not quite on my soap box again

So I'm concerned, worried, scared about the environment. Apparently the science is in and, apart from ignorant non-experts, everyone agrees global warming has reached crisis point. We've really stuffed it up. What I find most troubling is that we madly keep on with wrecking our home, despite the warning signs telling us something is seriously wrong.

There have been some interesting online articles recently, chewing over the reasons for, and implications of our refusal to address this issue. There is some evidence to suggest climate sceptics have fallen prey to an elaborate defence mechanism designed to prevent them from thinking about death. Never mind that avoiding the issue and denying climate change brings us all closer to the end of life as we know it. Just don't think about it. Say it isn't true.

Other climate change, brain function, behavioural scientists think the risks seem too remote for us. The earth is spiralling towards cataclysmic upheaval, rising sea levels, potential ice age, and mass extinction, but it's not happening tomorrow? Oh well. Turn the air-con up, drive don't walk, and eat as much meat as you like - it might never happen!

Then there's the industry lobby. Think of all the profit we'll lose if we don't keep on pumping carbon into the atmosphere! Seriously, the economy will fall apart. We'll all die if we don't have more money. So don't even think about charging tax on carbon emissions. We just can't afford that cost. Too bad that it might kill us all in the long run - economic growth is key.

I find it singularly depressing. No matter what Frank and I do to reduce our carbon footprint, it will never be enough, because too many other people don't care, or they simply love money more.

Shame on you.

But we'll keep plugging away despite all that. We have solar power on the roof. It's even connected now (after 4 months. long story) so we power our house from the sun all day. We've started charging mobile phones and tooth brushes during the day, to save drawing from the grid at night. We walk or ride the bike when we can. Meat makes much less regular appearances on our plate. Just about everything we do is accompanied by a quick calculation of its environmental impact. For example, tonight we cycled to the river front for fish and chips. The calculation runs something like this:

Cycling = carbon neutral. Fish and chips = unsure of stocks of fish we ate therefore unable to calculate accurately. Communal cooking = less environmental impact than heating oil at home to cook fish and chips ourselves. Overall = not too bad, but might be better if we ordered a salad instead.

We like to think it all counts. And of course it does. But is it enough? Only if everyone else gets on board! Come on people - time to make a difference for our planet.

watershed day

I'm not sure if it was just hormones playing havoc with my brain today, or if I really am losing control.

Apart from reading my appointment time upside down, thinking I'd double booked for tomorrow when I had not, and spending all day wondering which appointment to cancel (hair or beautician - vital decision there), I made it through the day OK. However, as I headed home, I felt suddenly overwhelmed by all I need to do. I had this sense of scrabbling around, trying to do too much and doing none of it well.

I do not like that feeling.
Yes, I am a perfectionist.

It set my mind to counting down days again, something I'm trying not to do. But if you must know, I have six weeks and two days until I quit the hospital and have a holiday. Friday December 18th is becoming something of a watershed for me. It is a marker of freedom, change, life and joy . (Let's hope I'm not disappointed!)

I keep asking myself if I am seriously deluded here. Have I gone soft? Lost touch with reality? Why is it so important to me to leave the hospital?

Because the decision to resign is symbolic of a significant shift in my thinking. While Frank worries I will sit and surf the net all day, I'm dreaming of a clean, clean house, and the sense of having a handle on things. No more chasing my tail, or feeling like I'm surviving by the skin of my teeth.

Call me old fashioned, but I think we women have sold ourselves short. When we tripped off into the workplace, we didn't ditch anything at home, we just took on more. Here we are juggling family, home, work, life (and often study), telling ourselves we're making a good job of it. And we are, but at what cost? How do we measure our success on this?

If it's by counting the dollars, then maybe we are doing OK. We have bigger houses, nicer cars and better holidays. There's more expendable income, but again I ask, at what cost? Why are our children committing suicide at phenomenal rates? Why are we divorcing so often? Why are we the highest anti-depressant users ever? And what about all those ever increasing chronic diseases? (Sorry, no references here, just a coalescing of multitudinous news reports)

Well, I'm opting out. I'm tired of feeling like I'm never on top of anything, never doing anything well. My vegetable patch is an annual disappointment, the windows are embarrassingly filthy, and while our living area is tidy, there lurks a mess in many a dark corner. I cannot find time to phone friends, I owe too many people letters, and I give Frank the dregs of my day. I don't really want to live this way.

Maybe I am soft, or harking back to a long lost era. Perhaps I am a disappointment to the women's movement. If either of those things are true, I'm sorry. But I cannot find it within myself to keep striving and straining to do everything the way I have been. I'm coming down on the side of having a lot less money but a lot more time, and hopefully a lot more contentment and satisfaction. Call it all a big experiment, but I'm looking forward to a new way of life.

I'll let you know how it goes!

chameleon. not.

My poor hairdresser!

I went and had a bit of a do today. Not just a cut, but a colour too. First I asked her if I had nits or lice. I'm paranoid I've caught nits or lice from the kids at school... they all come cuddling and smooching and unintentionally rubbing their nit-ridden hair across my arm or shoulder or (shudder) head. I can hardly push them away, though I walk a fine line... don't want them to feel unloved by not touching them, but would prefer not to be accused of child abuse either. I figure most of them need a few hugs, so I return the hug and step away quickly. However I always wonder if those lice might not have jumped on over to my hair. I am pleased to report, to now, they have not.

Anyway, this was what I had done:

Before

After

Maybe the pictures aren't so outstandingly different, but for me it's a huge change. I'm in shock. So is my hairdresser. She thought I was going to cancel my appointment, and I very nearly did!

I don't know. It's like the hair straightener issue. Much to Charmaine's amusement (or is it chagrin?) I have continued to resist purchasing a hair straightener. I even managed to restrain myself from buying the $3 pair I saw at the op shop! Every time I get my hair done Charmaine deliberately pulls out the straighteners and irons my hair in an attempt to convince me I need them. She even told me today that if she is ever offered a free set of hair straightening tongs by a supplier she is going to accept them and pass them straight on to me! I still think hair straighteners illustrate our obsession with perfection, appearances and illusions. I still don't think I really need them.

The same goes for hair colouring really. I am gently graying. Catch me on a bad day and I don't like it, but mostly I don't mind. That's life. I have few wrinkles, but at least my hair shows I've seen a bit of life. I want to be someone who embraces my aging and enjoys each phase of my life. I don't need to colour my hair.

Which is why I really can't explain why I decided to go ahead and colour it. I think Frank said 'You'd look nice with a bit of blonde in your hair' one evening, I went to the hairdresser soon after and the appointment was made. All month I've wrestled with the booking. I nearly cancelled a couple of times. I was musing to a friend the other day about whether I should do it or not (mountain out of a mole hill) and she told me it's just a hair colour - do it and enjoy it!

So I did. I sat in the chair and said 'Go ahead, dye my hair'. So now I have a chocolatey brown base colour with soft copper and blonde highlights. Frank thinks it looks fantastic, Charmaine loves it, I like it. But. But. But. Mixed in with the appreciation of my new look is a strong case of dissonance between what is and my ideal! What about the chemicals I've been purging from my diet and home and life? What about the environmental impact of dying my hair? What about the principles and values I hold dear?

And for goodness sake - why stress so much over it? It's a hair colour for goodness sake. Enjoy it. Revel in it. Stop turning everything in your life into a damn crusade Cecily! We've had enough crusades. Chill out and embrace change. Come on. Pull yourself together girl!

Really, I do like it.