Today we were meant to be at an SDG (Sustainable Development Goals) conference alongside some of our most trusted and cherished friends and colleagues. Instead, we are in level 4 lockdown in Tamaki Makaurau.

Snuggled safe in our big comfy bed, my fiancé and I are today determined to apply some discipline to our daily schedule. We are both writers and observers with time on our hands to write and observe. This is time that we have been squandering. Rather than writing or reading we have been sleeping and snuggling and spending time in the kitchen creating comfort for the kids who have been returned to us after our attempt at a romantic holiday ended abruptly when the Delta variant of Covid arriving in Aotearoa.

So today we begin something we have spoken about nearly daily for most of our time together. Today we are settled in and determined to stop talking about plans to be creative and act upon them instead. Today we start small, with steady resolve, and we commit to taking time to reflect and record our thoughts and feelings while chaos and confusion seem to swirl around while we enjoy safety and serenity in our beautiful and delicate bubble.

I’ve become quite quiet recently, retreating into the safety of the chrysalis of comfort and recovery that’s been built for me.  Sharing my personal struggles in visceral and confronting detail seems far away now.  Life took an abrupt and absolute turn away from the swampy chaos of thinking I was destined to be some hot mess messiah or self-destructive diva.  High flying attention seeking tendencies have been turned upside down, and now I really just want to be left alone, aside from meaningful interactions with the trusted few people I do not fear.  What was once blind bravery and a warrior spirit has been beaten out of me and replaced with cautious optimism and an omnipresent sense of duty.  This is the planning and resting part of the rest of my extraordinary little life.  And part of that planning is just spending a few moments next to the former monk I am going to marry, writing free-form and sharing it with him, and maybe you, whoever you are… I don’t actually know.

I know that our plans to pursue a simpler life focusing on soil and spending more time listening and less time frenetically interrupting everyone feels like it fits.  40 odd years of frenzied grasping for a feeling of belonging and meaning led me down some incredible roads and alleys.  Somehow, I ended up sitting next to the sensitive silver haired sweetheart listening to dulcet chords from his meditation music playlist, with spring birdsong wafting in through an open window.

We have planned to write every day.  That’s not to say every entry will be brilliant or insightful, it is just a commitment to do something and see where it takes us and what we glean from the efforts.  A form of meditation.

So that’s my 20 minutes up.  Pretty proud of us for starting and putting this little plan we have been discussing at length for ages now into some kind of action.  He is still tapping away and it seems like his work is far more formed and accessible than my meanderings, and that’s okay.

At least I started. Plans are good. Action is even better.

Thanks for reading.