Why Do I Care?

I have found myself wondering a lot lately what other people think of me. I worry that they won’t like my work or the way I behaved on my days out. I worry that they won’t like me for who I am, or worse, that they don’t know who I am. Most of all, I worry that people think I am stupid or not good enough.

But why do I care so much? My logic side tells me that if people don’t like me, so what? They are no better or worse than me and it shouldn’t matter what they think. If they don’t want to be my friends or like my work, it shouldn’t matter. There are others who will.

But I do care. I can’t help myself. I don’t know why.


Creative Living, is it Possible?

I came to a realisation recently. I am simply not made for a 9 to 5 office job. I find myself going stir crazy caught up in the daily humdrum of office life.

At first I thought it was the work hours that was putting me off. Maybe it is. I think the real thing that makes me go bonkers is the lack of creativity. Sure, I can come up with new business strategies or present information in exciting ways, but it just isn’t what I’m after.

I want to be surrounded by colour and inspiration. I want to work with ideas and get lost in projects that are full of arts and crafts.

But the problem is, I also want to earn enough money for my family to live comfortably.

I have looked at different career paths but can’t find one for me. I think I’d prefer a lot of odd jobs here and there. I don’t really want to go back to permanent work.

Can I have my cake and eat it?

The Enigma of the Beach

I love the beach. It doesn’t matter what the weather, the beach never fails to fill me with wonder.

As I walk across the sand, I think of those who may have walked here before me. I wonder where they were going. I imagine their lives and the thoughts they had as they walked across the sand.

When I see single footprints I wonder who they belong to. Why were they walking alone? Were they pondering life in the same way that I do? Would we get along if we had the chance to meet? Are they like me?

When I look out to the ocean I am mesmerised by the enigma. What is the world beneath the waves like?

Although I know they are not real, I imagine mermaids swimming through reefs. I imagine halos of sun streaming through the water and engulfing their world.

I wonder about those who have crossed the waters. And I think of those who didn’t make it.

When I see the wreckage of vessels that never reached their destinations, I wonder what it was like for those onboard. I picture myself on those majestic ocean liners of yesteryear. I imagine that the ship had all the luxuries of the Titanic.

As I look out across the water, I dream of where I would end up if I travelled across its expanse.  I imagine finding myself in exotic places, surround by riches and treasures. I picture myself immersed in a cultural wonderland.

I also find myself reflecting on times of old. I look at piers and old beach structures and imagine what the world was like when they were erected. There is a sense of romanticism and beauty in my interpretations of years passed.

But it is not just other worlds that the beach makes me think of. Whenever I walk on the beach, I find myself getting lost in my own world. The serenity and beauty of the water causes me to lose myself in reflection. I think of my life as it is. I recount my dreams. I long for the dreams that have not yet been reached. I smile at those that have.

I don’t know why it is, but for me the beach is a myriad enigmas. It makes me dream of other worlds and reflect deeply into my own.