It takes time to realize that some things
that you usually do, do not
necessarily have to be done.
I won’t list the little things that we do
that only have the power of frequency or habit to recommend them, but if you
think about your day there will be all sorts of actions and ‘rituals’ that you
do that could be scrapped at a moment’s notice and your life would be
better. Or at least different.
These thoughts (if they can be dignified
with that appellation) have been prompted by the fact that we came back from
Terrassa after a family celebration quite late.
As we get up at 6 am (sic) any lateness to bed is penalized by the
rapidly approaching morning! So we were
both tired today and the ride to work was more than usually taciturn. But, we got there in time, indeed with enough
time to spare for Toni to have an early morning coffee to give him the
necessary caffeine fix to get through to the breakfast break.
As I stuttered by way past the series of
red lights in Cornella on my way home, a thought struck me. I didn’t have to go to work. And (traitorous thought) I didn’t have to
have my swim. Now, not swimming (in spite
of the fact that I enjoy the activity) is something that I constantly had to
deal with on my way back from school at the end of the day when I was
working. I had an (expensive) membership
of the David Lloyd Centre and that august institution had not only a fair sized
indoor pool, but also a far more bracing outdoor one.
But, at the end of the day I was tired and disinclined
to swim. I would spend the distance from
school to home debating with myself about whether I really wanted to go for a
swim, because, after all, I had had a swim in the morning, or would I rather
have a proper cup of tea at home. This
debate would go on until I found myself (somehow) in the car park of the David
Lloyd Centre. And I would go and have a
swim.
Now that I am retired, I find that I am
made of sterner stuff. The dictum, “You
are tired, go to bed” seemed to me to have the authority of sacred law. So, in spite of the fact that the swimming
pool is directly on my return route, I veered away from the entrance and came
home and went back to bed. And I feel better
for it!
I will not laze around too much, after all
I have the liquid accusation of a communal swimming pool just outside the back
garden gate to urge me to take my accustomed exercise, even if it is a little
later than usual.
And then there is the indulgence of being
unshaven. In the (early) morning I just
have a cursory wash and brush my teeth (not so cursorily) because I have a
shower and a shave after my swim. Which
in my case I have not had. So it is now
a question of which comes first? The cup
of tea, the swim, or ablutions.
What obviously came first was this piece of
writing which is something that characterises my approach to life: if in doubt,
write. So having written, I think I will
have a swim, then a shower and shave and then a lingering cup of tea on the
terrace on the third floor - and an introduction to the rest of the day!
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