On Reflection

In a small journey of self-discovery, this week I have spent some time on reflective practice. All good for personal growth I’m told – or, at least I was told when being made to write a reflective journal during my dance teacher training. I was unconvinced at the time but on reflection it does at least pass quiet time at work in a positive and productive manner.

 

This move was spurred in part by frustration that I’m in the wrong job and need to think about how to change it; but also due to my rejection from the communication team. Well – I say rejection, but actually I was told that it was full and I should email them with my skills so I could be involved on an ad-hoc basis. What do the full members have that I don’t eh? Perhaps a forthcomingness in regard to their skillset.

 

My initial reaction of course, was that I have no useful skills, or at least none that are provable.  I could have given a link to the blog (what’s that except evidence of my communication skills) but as my most recent post included some not very positive thoughts on my job I decided that may not go down so well. Wise decision, do you think?

 

So what are my skills then?

 

That was the first thing. Skills brainstorm. Then an online personality quiz that informed me I was ‘Yellow’ (creative performer). Then a funny task where I had to pick my favourite words out of a list: gradually narrowing them down to find my core values. These ended up as compassion, courage, learning, creativity and freedom. All very pleasing words I’m sure you’ll agree.

 

But of course this is all useless if I don’t use it. It all really just furthers my assurance that I would have rather enjoyed the extra-curricular communication of the communications team (exactly what they do is unsure); but that my role doesn’t really fit with either my yellowness or my chosen words.

 

I’m aware that this is a) highly unscientific and b) obvious without the reflection. I do have a small plan though. I think I’m going to do a writing course. Perhaps I’ll improve these ramblings somewhat. At the very least it will be a tick in the learning box.

 

So maybe this reflection business is useful after all.

More procrastination

Yesterday I was having a discussion about my writing. In particular the picture book that is in my head but hasn't quite made it on to paper yet.
Do you know the reason I gave for having done nothing with it yet? That I need to buy a notebook first.
A notebook?!
How many blank notebooks do I have already? But none of them inspire me. I want a bigger one. And some colouring pencils. Until the moment these tools are sitting in front of me, I couldn't possibly channel my genius into a useful form.
Ridiculous, yes. But I do it all the time, and I know you are a culprit too reader.
Instead of finishing the knickers that I'm supposed to be sewing for myself, yesterday I bought lots of new fabric to make a maxi-dress and something else that I haven't decided yet. Why do I not work out how to attached the elastic first before embarking on a new project?
On a much grander scale, I have pretty much written off this year as one of experiments. Get myself back in shape just in case dance work materialises; work as much as possible to save some money; embark on varying work experience placements to see if I actually like anything; write as much as possible.
Then next September, or before if I'm lucky, I'll actually pick something.
This is the shiny side of the coin that I'm presenting to the world but here's the truth:
This morning I could have got up and gone to ballet but I'm actually sitting on the sofa in my pyjamas (at least I'm writing!); I'm going on holiday in a couple of weeks (yayay!!) spending much of what I've saved recently; having done two publishing placements I'm stuck about what to try next- apparently my ideas began and ended with publishing; I make excuses about not having the correct type of notebook to explain my lack of actual written writing.
So what do I do? Procrastinate. Read. Tidy up. Play the ukulele. Look up where I'll go on holiday next. Look at my blog stats to see where people are reading my blog (this week UK, Russia, Peru).
The thing is that I love potential. The magic in a shapeless piece of fabric that could become a ball gown. The energy in an idea in my head that cold be beautiful but might lose steam as soon as I put it on paper. The nobility of my good intentions.
And I guess it all gives me an excuse for my great indecision.
It just occurred to me how often I have mentioned how indecisive I am about my life in this blog. I'm procrastinating by talking about why I'm procrastinating.
So this is where I'll leave you today. I need to sew my pants. No more distractions!

Stuff about me.

We have been acquainted for a long time now. I have no idea who you are of course but I've been sharing my life, thoughts and probably sometimes shaky opinions with you for over a year by now. Time flies, eh? 

But here are some things you might not know yet. (Do not expect my bank details and address to appear here.)

A couple of days ago I managed to lock myself in the building next door to the shop where I work and didn't really know how I got there. It was like a very disappointing Narnia.

I lost the key to my locker, broke my bike and forgot my Oyster card in the same day.

Apart from the bike, things I own that are broken include my iPod, my laptop, the Internet of my PC, and almost all of the bags I own. And some of my shoes. 

Yesterday, 4 months ago I was in a hot spring in the Himalayas. 

Yesterday I moved all my bedroom furniture, cleaned the oven, did 3 loads of laundry, took out the recycling, watched a programme about why the descendants of slaves are better athletes, played the ukulele and wrote my name, date of birth and confirmed that I am eligible to work in the UK on 3 application forms. I did not complete the small essay questions that seems to be on them all. That seemed to much like hard work after inhaling oven cleaner fumes.

I have 5 spanners of various sizes in a row on my bedside table.

There are at least 6 books in my head that I think about writing but can't quite decide which one or how to go about it. 

I'm learning to write with my left hand because I once learned about a sailor who had to after his right hand was blown off with a canon ball. I want to be prepared. 

Tomorrow will be the first day I'm not working in 36 days. I'm excited.

Sometimes when talking to customers, I realise I'm not actually talking but making gestures and funny faces that convey my meaning perfectly. I suspect I'm talking to them directly mind to mind and now I have noticed this gift it will vanish forever like the elves from The Elves and the Shoemaker. 

Sometimes I change my handwriting on purpose, just for a little variety. I'm currently experimenting with a new style of A. 

I'm sleepy now. 

Exploring Publishing

I write from the middle of my first foray into "things-I-might-want-to-do-with-my-life." The first potential career I'm investigating is Publishing, courtesy of a month of work experience (aka general dogsbody-ing) at HarperCollins Children's Books. 

So far I have posted alot of books to various other publishers and authors (receiving a delightful letter from the genius that is Michael Bond in the process), looked stuff up on the Internet (random facts, Dr Seuss quotes), made a few spreadsheets and word documents, made a mailing list, rejected a pile of illustrator CV's that I didn't like, sent a thousand prizes to various competition winners.

The trick is though, to keep an eye on what the actual employees are doing to see if that looks like something potentially interesting. I would hope that if I actually worked there I'd get more interesting stuff to do than sealing envelopes. We'd get a work experience sucker in to do that crap. 

So what am I learning? 

Well for a start how to work in an office: how to sit in front of a computer for hours; what to wear; when it's appropriate to break the spell of silence and concentration, and initiate a chat. 

I used excel for an actual purposes for the first time...definitely banging that on the old CV. 

Now, what do I like and dislike? 

My favourite thing about HarperCollins is the staff cafe. They make amazing food for like £3 or so. There is also always boxes of biscuits or Quality Street hanging around the office. Who am I to refuse?

I like not having to do any lifting or cleaning. I like not having to deal with the general public. I love the picture books. Oliver Jeffers may be the coolest person in the world: picture book author, illustrator, plays the ukulele, writes stories about penguin, moose, a kite up a tree. I like how simple it all seems. Contrary to my fears that I might be incapable of a grown up job, it's actually pretty easy. So that's a relief.

I do not like the taste of envelope glue. I hate having to be on the tube at rush hour. I don't love being given instructions by the peron sat next to me via email. That's a bit weird.

What I've really got from the experience though is the wish to write my own picture book. Can't be that difficult can it? I mean, I can't draw but I'll just get someone else in to do that for me.

But publishing seems fine. Not as glorious I expected with all the competition for jobs but better than my actual jobs. And you can read at work. What a delight. 

I will continue to consider it and let the publishing world of my decision. Then I'll be snapped up I expect, if my letter sending skills are anything to go by. Damn, I'm efficient.