‘I think’
said the monkey mind
‘that I think too much’.
And she scampers off busily
up thought trees tangled
with stories.
Narratives twisting towards the light
thrusting up strange blooms,
every shade of the emotional rainbow.
Curious to know more,
the monkey scampers on.
Always restless,
the voice chattering away
in the jungle of my mind.
Does that monkey ever sleep?
Those small things that you deny yourself,
The movie, or book,
Night out with friends,
Or bunch of flowers
That you think you don’t deserve.
–
Leading on to more denial,
The kind words you would bestow on a stranger
But wouldn’t consider saying to yourself,
Preferring instead the harshness
Of an inner critic
–
The chances not taken
By the likes of you,
Missed opportunities,
Paths left unwalked,
A life half lived.
–
You can’t deny
You need to lighten up.
Be kind to yourself and
Open up
To the joy in this world.
Driving to work
Past fields and hedges and trees without leaves,
The distant fells of the Lake District,
A milky opalescent dawn sky,
And I feel so happy
And I think, if I could send a message
To my younger self
I would say
‘Relax
I know things don’t feel easy.
But it will all work out in the end.
Take it one step at a time, don’t worry so much.
Life still has its ups and downs,
But the view from here is worth it.’
When you open the office door in the morning to be greeted by beige and grey,
Dry warm air and the smell of computers
And yesterday’s lunches
And your heart sinks, shrivels and goes into hiding.
–
When your desk and the space around you is the smallest size it could legally be,
When you have no choice of whether or not you can sit by the window
And anyway the window might not even open,
And the view, if you have one, is the side of another office, or a road, or a block of flats.
–
When your senses are assaulted by the sound of phonecalls and the tapping of keyboards
And you feel yourself shrinking, contracting, trying block it all out,
And you wonder why you can’t concentrate,
And your mind runs around on the same old wheels, dreaming of a way out.
–
When others around you are beavering away
Seemingly oblivious to the distractions and ugliness,
And you wonder what is wrong with you and why you don’t fit in
And how on earth you can cope with this for another 30 years.
–
When you sit in a room with 50 people, but barely have a conversation for fear of creating too much noise,
And you feel trapped in a cage,
And you think you must be too sensitive, not good enough, not trying hard enough,
Just remember, escape is possible.
–
You’ve got the open plan office blues.
–
(Yes, I’ve been there, and yes, I did escape!)
Life in the Fresh Air 