Now that I’ve reached my late twenties, I’ve been reflecting on what I want to do. I’ve spoken before about how I’m growing up and becoming “the person I wanted to be”, however blase and Disney that sounds. But it’s true! Here are my goals for this new stage of life.
Oh, my, GOD. I have notes in four separate apps on both my computer, iPad and iPhone, none of which are synced, so that’s effectively 12 apps. On my laptop I have drafts in WordPress, I have notebooks filled with blog ideas and half-finished articles. I have hundreds of voice notes on my phone, notebooks of lyrics and chord patterns and just… ahh. It’s endless. You know those people who write about not having any fresh ideas? Or hitting a creative block? That is not me. I have hundreds of ideas per minute.
So, no creative block AT ALL. MY block is getting from start to finish and not abandoning my current idea for something new. Many of my longer blog posts are years in the making – not because I don’t know how to write them, but because I start writing something new and get swept up with that. No wonder I’ve been sitting on releasing music for years. There’s even a few book ideas and two musicals hanging around in the unfinished ideas pile.
I’m also not a quitter; I write this blog with no end, or goals, in sight. My BFF James summed this up once; “your songs sound like they were written just because they needed to be”. What use is this kind of honesty and truth if the songs then sit around in your bedroom? Creating just for the sake of it is fine. But for me, from now on I want to draw a line underneath something when I’m done.
Look, not all heroes wear capes, it’s true – BUT THIS ONE BLOODY DOES. I bought myself a 1960s pink tweed cape last year as a birthday present from me to me. It was one of the best £29.95’s I think I’ve ever spent. Everytime I wear it I think “yep, this is me, I am a cape girl”. You can fit all manner of bags underneath one, it’s astonishingly warm, and that swish – oh! – that swish. When’s the last time you swished a cape onto the back of a chair?
I have an image of myself in my eighties, wearing a beret and surrounded by small children. (I don’t actually want kids so let’s momentarily put that obstacle to one side to one side). A small child with freckles pipes up, “Grandma, where’s your coat?” to which elderly me replies “Oh, I haven’t worn a coat since 2017 dear. I wear CAPES.” But I mean, why wait 50 years to be an eccentric old lady? Why not get a headstart now? This is the year I begin eschewing traditional outwear and start embracing capes.
Or rather, continue saying what I already do. Over the last few years I have been making a concerted effort to speak out, to call bullshit. To debate and converse and listen and learn. I have learned two things from this. The first is that the best kind of education is in quiet, persuasive arguments. And the second is that the more you use your voice, the better it becomes. As a child I wanted to grow up to be eloquent and well-spoken, like the intelligent people I admired in conversation. Slowly, I approach peak communication. What could be better than clarity?
I’ve been a voracious reader since I can remember and in recent years I’ve become guilty of reading a lot of what I’d call “fluffy” books. The rom-coms of the literary world, if you will. Books about young 20 somethings falling in and out of love; books aimed at teenagers; books rated by Costa or Richard & Judy. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with reading those kinds of books per se. If you only read bestseller YA then that’s fine, crack on. It’s just I, personally, find it rare for those kinds of books to really set me alight.
I can think of only a handful of novels I’ve read in the last couple of years that have really stuck out to me. For somebody who loves reading, that’s kind of a sad thought. It goes hand-in-hand with around the time I stopped referring to my own list of “Books To Read”, and started relying instead on whatever was popular in the library or at the front of the bookshop. I want to make more of an effort to search out books that will inspire and devour me.
“Clothes” is it’s own category, whilst race is lumped in with feminism and politics? There’s a whole category for Christmas? Surely life and growing up should be separate from death and grief? The categories on this blog harken back to an earlier time when I read no blogs and had no idea what people would want to read. Don’t even get me started on the Travel organised by continent (although seriously, travel bloggers, how do you sort this?). There’s a Television category? WHAT?
What kind of goals do you/did you have in your late twenties?