I took the time to pick these on the shore just now. Beach-stone blossoms I call them.
Life is whizzing. I'm trying to slow it down. I would swear on the stack that I had posted to this blog a day ago. Not so, it was Tuesday.
A friend said on Thursday night: I can't tell you what happened the week, it knocked me flat on my face as it blew over.
The Da had warned me. Said this would happen, the galloping effect. He was right on a lot of things. Wrong too. Who's perfect. But on this: A+, Da. Nailed.
Speed of light. Today I raced. In a road race not far from here. Day started out with a lovely chill. Halfway through the race the sun shoved the clouds out of the way and blazed. We all wound up, men and women, boys and girls, looking like we were all wearing peculiar skirts with our running jackets tied around our waists, trailing onto our legs, now red faced and sweating while the starting line had us jumping around to keep ourselves warm.
Daughter and I did it together, she is taller and longer of stride. I remember thinking to myself, she's 23 years younger than me and I take 3 steps to her 2. I feel like a bantam hen beside her, slightly OCD because I internally count things. A lot.
Do you? Count things I mean. I was talking to a friend about this peculiarity over dinner a few weeks back. She brought it up. She's a reverend. Odd that: the humanist and the reverend nattering over a stir-fry. We do get along. Amazing isn't it? And then it turns out we both count unconsciously. And had never talked about it before. With anyone. Goosebumps. I'm not alone. Half the time it just bubbles along under the surface.
My dad and I would bike together. Huge distances. Like 30 miles in total so we could catch a swim in Fountainstown. There are advantages to being the oldest. Your parents are younger and more agile and less distracted by younger rug-rats. We'd play numbers/words games as we rode on Sunday afternoons. Less cars then, absolutely no helmets or bike shoes or gears. Imagine. How many gates did we pass on that last mile? Dad would shout. Eighteen! I'd shout back. Corr-ect! He'd affirm.
It all started then.
Living in the city, we were not allowed bikes. Daddy thought the traffic(in the fifties?) was far too dangerous for us to manage. To this day, I don't think any of us owns a bike. As for counting in my head: I do that when working at Needle Arts, or even when I'm baking. Any distraction... I need to go back to the beginning all over again. It is a wonder I ever finish anything!
ReplyDeleteI suppose internally counting things is slightly OCD: I just hadn't labelled my morning counting when I cut up the cat fish. Come to think of it, I count when I'm chopping vegetables too.
ReplyDeleteI've found I have an increasing desire to do things in a particular order. It started as an aide memoire but maybe it's run over into the obsessional now.
Maybe it all started because I'm "a place for everything and everything in its place" kinda gal. Oh, where will it all end! LOL.
PS. That's a gorgeous glass vase holding the simple beauty of the wild plants.
ReplyDeleteI'd never heard of the mental counting thing. So what sort of things do you count apart from gates?
ReplyDeleteI think something only counts as OCD if it actively disrupts your everyday life. Otherwise it's just one of those strange habits!
M:
ReplyDeleteYou're reflections are spot on. Before I retired, I foolishly thought subjective time would slow down (no daily work schedule, no appointment calendar to fill).
Instead, the opposite is true, and yes, I tend to think it's Thursday when it's already Friday.
My theory? I'm doing exactly what I want to, when I want to, and I'm always busy (writing, reading, googling for answers to all those questions I couldsn't find the answers to before the Internet), watching screwball comedies from the 'Thirties.
Counting? Do it all the time, varied activities.
OCD? Notice closet door is open (I'll close it later). Seconds pass. I jump up and close it.
Midnight. Few dishes in sink. Do 'em tomorrow. Seconds pass. Wash dishes, put away.
The best thing about the foregoing? I forgive myself on all counts.
There are worse things than a compulsion to be neat and orderly... all my ducks are in a row. As the song goes, "The name of the game is, I like it like that."
I think the counting things is a spot on the continuum that has compulsive disorders at one end....and the need for routine is another.
ReplyDeleteI'm unsure if the need for routine is related with age, but as I approach 70 I find I do specific things at set times, and vary seldom.
I'm very impressed by the fact you were out on a road race.
GM:
ReplyDeleteYes, me too with the knitting and other unconscious stuff. Steps to a place. Mileage in my car.....etc.
XO
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Pam:
ReplyDeleteYes, it may be more common that we think.
I bought a pair of these vases on a ferry with the Grandgirl, I loved the shape and the colour and she tells me today on FB (she's in Berlin) that she still has hers.
XO
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Nick:
ReplyDeleteIt is so unconscious I really have to think as I said to GM.
XO
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Marc:
ReplyDelete"I forgive myself on all counts."
Love that. It takes us forever but we get there. And yes, days are full of stuff I want to do not what I have to do :)
XO
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SFM:
ReplyDeleteMy routines tend to fall my the wayside, or maybe I keep trying to invent new routines as I am the Chief Procrastinator and still think there are DEADLINES. There are not. Unless they are of my own creation.
I'm working quite hard at action steps to change this chaotic thinking which is stressful.
XO
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I do - steps as I'm climbing stairs, that sort of thing. Or if I notice something unusual - say, a patient wearing lots of jewelry. I automatically will count the number of pieces.
ReplyDeleteOh, all the time. I'm a perennial counter. Exercising on the treadmill I count every step, or just for a change, every breath. I count every winter log I hurl on (or off) the truck. If it has a number, I'll count it. Mind, I'm not good at maths so my totals are probably way off. It doesn't matter. It's not the precision that's important - just the counting. Maybe we're both nuts?
ReplyDeleteSAW:
ReplyDeleteI'm finding this so interesting. the comments are enlightening as to those who write blogs, etc. Maybe we all have a little OCD in us?
XO
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RJA:
ReplyDeleteYes, I do a lot of step counting too and find I try and distract myself as it feels extreme. I remember the series "Monk". Did you see?
Constant counting and assurance.
XO
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Your flowers
ReplyDeletewe call them
Sweet Peas
in my area.
My grandmother always
had a small vase in the
middle of her table.
Thought about a cutting
to plant among flowers.
Keep running :)
What lovely flowers to just go out and pick! You are lucky.
ReplyDeleteWe used to count things as kids when we were going long car rides to keep us from moaning, *are we nearly there yet*!
It seems to be a thing we do when we're bored, I think.
Sometimes the most unlikely friendships strike up. I think its really good to get close to people with completely different views. After all, it would be so boring if we all thought the same.
Maggie x
Nuts in May
We all have something odd going on. I suffer extremely from earworms and need to have music feeding constantly into my ears to drown them out. But nothing helps the ringing in my right ear. I suppose if it ever stopped, I'd miss it!
ReplyDeleteOWJ
ReplyDeleteThey could be a variant of the sweet pea I grew up with though only the one colour and they are ground flowers and don't climb.
I see the wild daisies are coming up now and buttercups and dog-roses all free for the picking on the shore.
XO
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Maggie May:
ReplyDeleteYes, it is good to keep an open mind. In a phone conversation tonight I brought up euthanasia and my friend (not the reverend) was horrified. And went on about "god's plan" and only HE could decide.
Wow, was all I could think, forcing my mind to accept what she was saying and thankful she wasn't in charge of my demise.
XO
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Hattie:
ReplyDeleteEarworms as in music? Or tinnitus?
Annoying for you.
XO
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You know the most interesting people, in real life and online. I always enjoy your posts and the comments:)
ReplyDeleteThank you Sharon, yes I am very lucky in friendships, I seem to make a lot. And I truly don't know why that is. And quite a few of my friends are fairly new.
ReplyDeleteI'm endlessly curious, maybe that's it. Not gossip curious but how people tick.
Humans' lives are extraordinary.
XO
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I count all the time - steps mainly, but also pages read, breaths taken, number of times I have to swing my leg before my knee 'clicks'... Part of it, I think, is to shut up the internal monologue, which is invariably critical - by counting, I can get it to go away.
ReplyDelete