A PRECURSORY LAMENT
Ah, to be alive. To hear the birds chirping, see the colours of the sunrise, feel the wind in your hair and have breath in your lungs... and yet, sadly, I feel I have sunk into a perverse disillusionment that has clouded my ability to appreciate life's gorgeous tenacity. I don’t know how it happened (that’s a lie, of course I do), but somewhere over the last six months, life’s usually-persistent knocking on my proverbial front door faded into the tap-tap-tapping of fingertips on knees, whiling my life away in pathetic fits of self-loathing. I momentarily lost the clarity in colour, the luxury of light- to be perfectly honest, I’ve just been downright miserable to be around, and for that, I do apologise.
It did get me thinking though, about my Conscious Self. I’ve always been fascinated by the Unconscious Self, whether it be dream analysis, or the concept of passive aggression (hello, Facebook user who posts status’ and photos specifically designed to make others miserable) but for the most part, I have spared very little thought for the what actually happens when you are conscious.
There are many varying definitions of consciousness. One, for example, is ‘to be aware of one's own existence, sensations, thoughts and surroundings’. Another is to have something ‘known to oneself; felt’. So for all intent and purposes, let’s look at consciousness like this:
Knowing Your Own Sensational Existence.
How sexy is that?
On Monday night, as I delicately sipped a cold glass of Sauvignon Blanc and waited for my nail polish to dry, I got to thinking about existence. Or, more precisely, feeling my own existence. Even more precisely, feeling, hearing, touching, seeing and tasting my own existence. Do you see where I’m going with this?
Spring Cleaning Your Consciousness has to begin somewhere. And while it is most certainly a daunting task of monstrous proportions that should only be attempted in the most fabulous of shoes (stay tuned- Solestruck delivery ETA Wednesday), it should, of course, be attempted. But this does of course beg the question- how does one spring clean one’s senses?
I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE
... a plethora of stuff, really. Open your eyes and take it all in. What do you see? Your desk? Your bedroom? What about on the way to work? What does your house look like? What colours do you notice, what brightens your day? Do you like the look of certain shapes? Houses? Cafes? Street trees? Visual stimulation is powerful. Very powerful. And, happily, is one of the easiest things that we can alter to achieve a greater happiness.
I HEAR YA, BUDDY, I HEAR YA
Chatter. Car sounds. Birds chirping. Dubstep. Heels clicking on concrete. Screaming children. Sliding doors opening. Panadol popping out of foil packaging. Planes flying overhead. Shouting. Laughing. Crying. Computers whirring. What sounds make up your day? Which ones do you love? Which ones tire you out? Which ones are boring? Intruiging? Exciting? ... why?
LIKE A FAT KID LOVES CAKE
Mmm. Food. One of my all time favourite things in the universe. I personally prefer exotic, spicy foods, with lemongrass and ginger and coconut and peanuts and pretty much any variation of Thai/Indian food that you could find. But with the constant worry over sugar reduction attempts and not eating carbs without wanting to kill myself, my quest for flavours that make my tastebuds dance and sing has become bleaker that a Siberian winter morning. Why do you love the foods that you love? Ever find it interesting that some people absolutely love sherbet, but others find it acidic and foul? Why do identical twins have varying favourite foods? Why do you love/hate aniseed/chilli/caramel?
SMELL YA LATER
The sense of smell is an interesting one. They say (who are ‘they’? These faceless entities from whom knowledge and wisdom seem to spout like seawater from a dolphin’s blowhole?) that smell is the most powerful trigger of memory there is. I will attest to that- there is one particular aftershave that seems to be inexplicably linked between my nostrils and my tear ducts. Thus, it is a smell that I associate with certain types of emotional pain. What smells do you associate with happiness, positivity and joy? (..... freshly baked brownies, anyone?)
I GOT A FEELIN’... OOOH, OOOH
Silk, satin, fur, cashmere and ludicrously thick bath foam are my top five touchable textures. Of course, there are about a zillion others, but we’ll get to those later. The sense of touch enables us to relax or recoil; our hearts to skip beats; our hairs to stand on end. It brings us closer as humans and allows us to express affection (or rage) in ways that are so very powerful. A comforting hug from Mum, a spider creepily crawling on your bare skin, an electric, accidental brushing of hands with the person you have secretly loved for years. All are awe-inspiring. All are different.
Over the next week or so, I want to scour the proverbial seabed of tingling, tantalising senses and uncover ways to improve my experiences in my day-to-day life. We’ll start with sound, so get your thinking caps on. This is the very beginning of surrounding myself with joy. Out with the old. In with the new. It’s all uphill from here.
Join me, won’t you?
