Just finished a grand class; really enjoy speaking to people, and always feel good after.
Stumbled across a fairly misunderstood reality, too: I now realise why I’m not mad when I speak in Spanish – castellano – to myself. Yeah. Speaking to yourself in the UK is a clear sign of being out of your trolley. And what makes people think I’m madder than I am is I not only speak to myself in public, I do so in Spanish!!!
But the Spanish do it all the time when dealing with all sorts of issues – especially challenges. I realise now, then, I picked the habit up there, and there it’s quite “normal” to do it; not a sign of craziness at all.
I wonder if a huge part of me being typed as seriously ill thirteen years ago had to do with different cultural experiences, expectations and tick-box lists. Yeah, I did some really weird stuff, but being dramatically misunderstood in an emotional context – re my emotional needs, wants and (in hindsight) awful awful rejections – simply exacerbated the matter tremendously.
I mention all this today, because in my Skype class not half an hour ago my student started talking to herself in front of me, and in Spanish!!! – whilst I watched her attach a file to an email she had to send to herself from one device to another.
And what’s more it seemed right, natural and OK. Some cultures simply vocalise their experiences more; the English keep it all in, meanwhile, and assume anyone who natters to themselves is basically incredibly suspicious.
Maybe dangerous, too.
And that ain’t right at all.
Had a really good time, eating healthily today. Had a good salad at home; oh, and later bought myself some Darjeeling pyramid bags in Whittard’s of all places. Loved the Darjeeling I tried the first time ever the other day at Tate Liverpool, felt I had to explore again.
Then I wandered round Cheshire Oaks, had a made-to-order Piccino in the good Starbucks on the main site, ordered flowers via an Interflora app (challenged my eyesight, did the font, I can tell you), bought a VFM GoPro-style wifi cam for son’s girlfriend’s birthday, and ended up in Café Rouge with the nicest, truly nicest, service and food I’ve had in a long time. I even wolfed down the fries. And had a glass of white. And I never drink wine when I go out, eh?
I like living and travelling by myself. Am really getting to like it, you know. It may be selfish, and it may be sad for those who have busy and heavily coupled lives, but it’s not sad and it’s not bad.
And I guess you can see how much I like buying presents for people, too. And I wish people wouldn’t see presents as conditional bribes. And sometimes they do, and then it makes me so sad. Present-giving at its best and most sincere is adults playing kindly at being friendly and nice. And making the world happier, and adding to the pleasure it can offer us.