At the bottom of the Garden

This week I started wearing headscarves daily. I wear them after the fashion of the tichel, which is the  Yiddish word for the headscarf worn by observant married orthodox Jewish women. I find this style the most flattering and user-friendly for me, but it also is culturally attractive to me as my paternal great-grandmother was a Jewess. I do not wear it for religious reasons, but respect those who do.

So, why have I chosen to start wearing a tichel? Well, my reasons are both practical and esoteric so I'm not going to share them here. Suffice it to say, I choose to wear a head covering.

My love affair with head coverings has been long - I wrote a blog post about it several years ago when I first flirted with the idea of wearing headscarves regularly. Even though I had a bob at the time, I struggled with the scarves slipping off my head. As much as my mother insists I have a lovely rounded head shape like my father, this simply isn't the case. The back of my head is flat, and s…

I've worried so much this year about what people have said about me. There are many memes on the internet about this topic. They pretty much all say the same thing, don't worry about what other people think about you, your true personality will shine through etc. and so forth. It's hard though when you aren't a people person, when you're naturally aloof, when you are socially awkward to begin with. People who have better social skills can easily take advantage of these flaws as evidence that you are a horrible person.

I'm aware that I have been portrayed as a horrible person to many people who don't know me well.

But you know what? I'm a good person.

I am a good friend.

I am honest - often to a fault. Often, I call the bullshit I see, especially self-pity. This isn't very popular amongst some of the privileged people I've had as friends who like to consider themselves oppressed, impoverished, or otherwise hard done by. I guess, with my backgroun…

Learning braille is so weird!

There are grades in braille. In grade 1 you learn the alphabet, and you learn that some of the letters also stand for words when they stand alone in a sentence, for example, the letter 'b' on its own means 'but', and the letter 'l' means 'like' and the letter 's' means 's'.



In grade 2, you find our that some combinations of letters have their own braille characters. So, there is a character for 'c' and there is a character for 'h', but then there is a character for 'ch'. Some of these 'short-forms' also stand for words, for example, 'ch' on its own in a sentence stands for 'child'. There are other rules that govern these short forms though, such as the 'ch' short-form for child can't be used in the word 'childhood', though the character 'ch' can be - 'childhood' in grade 2 braille is spelt ''ch'ildhood'.


Where…

Slowly, slowly, I've been working my way into that book. Usually, I throw myself into new 'projects' and I'm not sure if it is the shock of Erik leaving, or the head-cloud caused by the topiramate I'm on for migraines and seizures, but I'm having to do this in small steps. I haven't even gotten to the daily exercises yet. Not even the part where I write out my greatness blueprint.

My Greatness Blueprint.

It makes me laugh.

It sounds so grandiose.

There was this segment where I had to write my 'Why'. Where I had to write about who I am and why I am here - what legacy I want to leave. This bit wasn't hard. I know what I want to leave. I want people to know they are enough.

You are enough.

You are complete.

You have everything within you to do what will fulfill you.

Other people cannot give you power, and that is a good thing because it means other people cannot take your power. Your power is within you. It isn't your body. Your power is your s…

Taking a short break from attempting to redraft an abstract for my thesis - oy vey! - to tell you about my new project for staying sane.


My mother-in-law recently gifted me this (that is, she gave me money for Mother's Day - I know, isn't she sweet, she really didn't have to get me anything at all, and I bought this with it). It is a journal for pulling your sh!t together, to put it bluntly. It is all about upgrading yourself, digging deep to expose your brilliant self, the 'you' that is hidden under all the crud that is negative self-talk and distraction and whatnot.
So, I'm going to give this a red hot go because I know I am better than the person I march out the door every morning or, for that matter, the person who mopes about the house when she doesn't have to march out the door. There is a good heart beneath the furrowed lines on my forehead. Lots of people don't know that; they can't see it. A few people can, and to me, those people are gold,…

I have about half an hour until my bus leave - having just missed the bus I intended to take because I was fussing about. A week ago I really wasn't sure if I'd get back to uni this week. I went to extend my intermission several times, but embarrassment, more than anything else, stopped me from submittng the form. My friends and the Grumpy Old Man encouraged me to go back. So, back I went, on shaky legs, and with my arse dragging.

It hasn't been the most productive of weeks, but slowly, slowly, I've gotten my mojo back. I have a clear path forward set in my sights now and know what I'm doing, which is a big deal for me because this time last week I wasn't sure I could even remember what I was researching.

I've had a couple of skype chats my mate, Robbie, which have cheered me up no end, and I have caught up with other PhD candidates here on campus. I had a couple of visits from friends last week as well. Face-to-face contact is very important for human well…