February 25, 2011

I’m a pretty driven person. I always have been. When I was a teenager I decided my personal theme song was Queen’s “I Want it All… and I Want it Now.” I’d like to think I wasn’t so gung-ho these days, what with all the years’ of “wisdom” behind me – but I regularly send myself insane (and frequently exhaust myself) with the millions of thoughts and ideas banging around inside my head every day. I’ve definitely tried to “sort it out,” spending the last few years learning how to calm down, gain a peaceful equilibrium and focus on the moment, but the drive remains and so, to be content, it’s balance that must be achieved. I know “balance” is an overused bollocks word these days, but it is so apt in my case. One of the reasons I decided to blog about drive is I caught the tail-end of a BBC documentary on some Kalahari tribesmen, and these guys herd cattle through the desert – seven days a week, 365 days a year. While I appreciate that there are a lot of dangers in their lives, not the least dying of thirst, let alone getting killed by rival tribes or any of the nasty things in nature – it made me wonder what living every day and every moment would feel like, without any mad rush or scramble involved? I watched these guys and found it hard not to question the pointlessness of the “Western” way – something I’ve done many times in my life – but then we have benefits they don’t. Although getting rid of the mad scramble would be nice? I often watch documentaries on “developing” countries where the women are working the fields with a baby latched to their breast, or about people trying to survive suicide bomb attacks as they negotiate their neighbourhoods to shop for the only family meal they’ll have that day, or people living in massive humanitarian “cities” for YEARS, and somehow eking out a survival. It is a very different way of being and very hard to comprehend for the rest of us. I’m definitely glad to be in the “rest of us” gang though. The reality is millions of people on our planet get up with the sun, eat when they are hungry OR when food is available, live in communities that support each other, and sleep when it’s dark. They live with more disease, a higher level of mortality (and perhaps more grief but that’s hard to define when the value of life is so different), are threatened with significantly more danger mostly from their fellow man, live in less than ideal living conditions that expose them to disease, travel miles every day just to get drinkable water or drink filthy stuff and die, and their daily focus is to survive and thrive as much as they can. Can you imagine how living like that would feel? Can you see a day coming where we all might have to live this? Having encountered people living this way all around the world on my travels, I know that I couldn’t do it permanently, unless the choice was taken away from me of course. Perhaps it’s because I have lived another way and that way enables me to do things most people couldn’t even imagine? Hey, travelling to far off countries is something most people can’t imagine. Having a warm shower every day is unimaginable to many in the world, but for me, it’s one of the key “luxuries” that keeps me committed to the life I know. I’ve got to have a shower! Colonialism (aka Democracy) is all about pushing “our” way of life on the world – which makes sense, because it’s a message of consumption and that’s good for business right? We’re capitalists after all and governments get elected because of big business contributions so everyone wins…well certainly not everyone. But then you wonder, would people living at subsistence level actually want our lives? Sure, they might live longer and there might be aspects they find appealing, but I could imagine them looking at us and thinking “what the fuck are these crazy people on?” The whole question of drive came up for me again full force four years ago when I entered the world of motherhood. If ever there was ever a time to put my ambitions on hold and enjoy time, it was when Lex and Jax came into my life. For the first six months I did well with Lex – I was really content – but then I started getting edgy to be out in the world again. Here I was, late 30s, very happy to be a Mum, but it was apparent that it wasn’t the only thing I wanted. I definitely felt an overwhelming love for my lads + a very strong compulsion to be all I could be for them (they deserve the world), but it left me with no energy and no time for myself. The problem was Jax’s pregnancy was so painful all the way through that I couldn’t sit in a chair and work, and then when he came along, I felt I should spend the same amount of time with him that I’d spent with Lex… and on it goes the guilt, the guilt. Obviously having two kids 15 months apart didn’t help. These recent years for me have been a full-blown-in-my-face-work-out-what-you’re-all-about-woman-‘cos-neither-direction-is-going-to-make-you-happy-and-you’re-turning-into-a-miserable-cow! For the first time in my life, I fully recognised the depth of my drive CONCIOUSLY and decided I needed to embrace that quality in myself and work towards creating a life that enabled it. But why is any of this so important to me? I certainly didn’t have a childhood focused on excelling at all costs. It’s just in me for some reason…. If you know me, you’ll know there’s a LOT I want to do and I’m pretty focused on doing it all, but I have to ask the question –