I’ve been quite anchorless of late – 6 months or thereabouts in this house has not helped. I feel like I don’t belong. My old place was mine and I had control over it; it was an anchor for 3 years.

Now I have a feeling of being buffeted from place to place without something to ground against.

I realised this morning that I have been using my relationship as my anchor. And as the relationship changes, I feel myself becoming more and more cranky. Relationships change. Of course they do. Therefore using it as the rock that holds me down is lacking in sanity.

But it’s what I think I’ve done.

It’s a philosophical problem with real ramifications in my life unfortunately. Observational evidence suggests that this happens every single time I find myself outside the comfort zone, without something to call “mine”, to fall back upon, to feel safe.

And I keep using physical structures, jobs, relationships and people as the anchor point.

Which works for a time. But then if I move, the physical structure is gone. If I change job, or find it boring or unpleasant, that’s gone too. Relationships are really problematic to use as anchors because I fall into the trap of “the more it stays the same or is stable, the happier I am”, yet relationships change with time; so no point using them as an anchor.

Using people as anchors is basically codependence by another name, so that’s not intelligent either.

Change is a part of life. But I need something that’ll be unchangeable and which I can use as a touchstone, a reference-point; I need something that will always be there.

And that, in a nutshell I think, is the attraction of an all-powerful “god”.

But “god” is not for me. Not at this point at any rate.

Can I anchor to myself? That would be the smart monkey option: I can trust me, can’t I? I can rely on me, surely? Certainly the outside package will change over time, but it’s an adjustment that occurs and isn’t noticed so much rather than a sudden violent change.

It is, I think, the concept of “locus of control” that I learned last year at school. The responsibility of our own lives which is held by us or handed over to others for safe-keeping. And when others don’t do what we expect, we feel betrayed and dejected. Taking responsibility back, we control ourselves.

So can I anchor within?

It’s worth a try, surely?

But what happens if I’m unable to do something, either because of skills or inclination?

Then I’m in the self-hate trap: I can’t do something because I’m not good enough. The anchor is then on shaky ground, or lost altogether.

Shit.

My cat? No, lifespan of 7 -12 years tops. And he’s got claws and bitey teeth.

My bookshelves? Physical items. Useless.

Chocolate?

The planet? Has its possibilities…?

If this is sounding needlessly existential, you’d be right, and wrong. It’s a big problem for me and one that I would really like to be sorted out. It’s causing problems and I want it gone.

What do I like which is there on an ongoing basis?

I get attached to Winter and colder weather and when that’s gone, I get cranky. Here’s another example of a bad choice.

Melbourne? Location. No. It’d work for a while, but if I have to travel, I’m back to square one.

Australia. See above.

Me.

I think I have to just rely on me. This is the most workable solution, though has flaws. But as things go, it’s the only thing that’s remotely going to work on an ongoing basis. And I’ll be with me for my whole life.

Today there was a moment that could not be said to be my finest hour. It was a snap decision which it would have been better to sit on a while and to consider before firing off a reply.

Still, it could gave been worse.

So, on a totally unrelated topic, I’d like to write about open versus closed systems and query why theres so much vitriol spilled around this subject in computing circles.

In my considered opinion, and it’s my blog so I’ll write what I want to, I’d suggest that this topic is completely over-blown.

It comes down to a fundamental issue: are you someone who wants to fiddle endlessly or someone who just wants something to happen?

Now, these two ideas are not about “skilled” or “unskilled”, hackers versus luddites; there are plenty of very intelligent people who could hack something if inclined to do-so but for reasons of their own choose not to. For that matter, there are plenty of unskilled people who get an itch to pull something apart to see how it ticks.

Take the car.

Here is a machine that gets you from “A” to “B”. Many of us are quite happy stick fuel in one end and drive it around without any inkling of how it works on the inside. And then there are those who make it their business to know every nut and bolt and what to do in the case where the thing doesn’t work.

Non-skilled versus skilled.

A refrigerator is another example: it keeps things cold. We open and shut it and it just keeps going. Until it doesn’t of course, at which point we either call a specialist or buy another.

In neither of these cases do you hear anyone complaining about the merits of open and closed systems. The car mechanics work happily as do the refrigerators repairers.

And a refrigerator is a pretty closed system.

Why then is there so much passion around open and closed systems in the IT industry?

Surely there is a use for both in the world, for those who just want to do things without having to hack through screen after screen of configuration, and for those who like that sort of thing, the car drivers and the mechanically minded can peacefully co-exist can’t they?

There’s a place for both I think, and neither is better or worse than the other. They’re just different.

Why is it that the more overloaded you get the more likely it is that a part of your anatomy will get itchy?

Why is it that clarity of communication is routinely absent in academic texts to the point where you need to know what the author is writing about in order to understand what they’re writing thus making it pointless to read the text in the first place.

Why can’t I just leave things alone?

I’ve had such a sharply defined sense of right and wrong for so long that I wonder about the shades if grey that I’m missing. The sense of fairness that I can’t help but defend to the bitter end often to my own cost.

I wonder where it came from?

I’m sitting here in my box-filled loungeroom at home, waiting for the water to cool in the kettle for a hot water bottle.

A move is happening – 18 days to a new home. Initial excitement has given way to melancholy; I’ve lived in this lovely old thing for nearly 4 years; a tenth of my lifetime in these walls. Three cats, three housemates, good times and bad within this home in Fitzroy North.

I feel a bit like I’m losing an old friend; slowly slipping from my grasp. I blame rising rent and a lack of light, but really, is that enough to part ways? It has been the first stable home I’ve known in over 10 years of moving here-and-there. To put another slant on it, I feel like I’m losing my Tardis.

But the deed is done. I’ve handed in notice, am packing boxes, signed a lease on a new light-filled-lower-rent home in Thornbury and it’s just a waiting and packing game now.

Feeling into the sadness, I find emotions aplenty; regret, loss to name but two. Will the soul of this lovely home miss me I wonder?

Life is not a box of chocolates. It’s not a bunch of roses either. Sometimes it’s like falling into a rosebush. Sure, you might be surrounded by the sweet smell of the flowers, but the thorns scratch you a bit and sometimes expose what’s underneath because they’ve ripped little holes in your clothing.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. Exposing what’s there and seeing what’s really being hurt is very good, because it allows you to learn something about yourself.

This is my life. Sometimes there’s the smell of roses (I’m using this loosely; I don’t mind the smell of roses, some of them are a bit overpowering, but I’ll ignore that for the purposes of this post), and sometimes there’s the thorns.

Sometimes I learn things I wish I hadn’t.

But then a little time passes and these things get the perspective they need and I can look at them clearly; I can see them for what they are and then make the choice to change, modify or ditch. That’s not possible immediately though. In the moment, it’s hard to learn something that’s painful or is causing pain. It’s even harder if you’re a person that expects perfection from themselves.

So, as I sit here, I must just breathe, I must chill. I must give this the time it needs to get the persepective I need.

Then I can make the decisions.

Mood: Crap (insert emoticon here)

Feeling quite bleh today. I woke tired and have continued to be so all day. I’m feeling a little sad too, but there’s nothing really that bad in my life. Perhaps I’m just feeling the effects of a far too busy “professional” life with not enough “personal”?

The next few weeks are, unfortunately, stuffed with Things to do. Which is particularly boring because of all the things, none of them include just being with my partner for a period of time that doesn’t include professional intrusions and other hassles.

I would gladly tip all these professional problems off a cliff right now. The amount of effort involved with all of them versus the positives that come out are getting difficult to balance. Some things that have been easy to set-up have involved so much negative behaviours, obsession and politics that I may as well not have done them in the first place.

So why do I persist?

Is it ego? God I hope not.

Is it for “the good of others”? Oh, certainly (though this in itself is assumption and arrogance); there are so many holes in services where I’m volunteering that it’s less of a sieve and more of a pit. The holes have joined up with one-another and there is very little actually happening. However, this is observational evidence only; the reasons for this state are complex and are worth a PhD student’s thesis. The reasons are also tempered by my own experience, and not a commentary on those who are out there trying to make a difference.

Do I presume to be a leader, to drag things kicking-and-screaming into a new paradigm, one where good things can happen without being torn down? Am I so arrogant?

Is it because I’m simply stupid and don’t know when I’m running up against a wall? Hah. Probably. The feeling of smacking my head against these bricks seems to have awakened a certain awareness in me that this sort of thing is ultimately futile. There is the idea of bashing my head against a wall to break through, and on the final pre-fatal thud, seeing out of the corner of my eye an open door. Yet I don’t see an open door right now. All I can see are bricks, and blood-stained ones at that.

All I know is that right now I’m feeling out of sorts; I’m trying hard to build something and the harder I try the harder it becomes. But standing back and letting things occur is what everyone does all the time, and nothing happens.

Am I truly fooling myself? Am I arrogant in my presumption that I can help change the community through actions rather than words? Am I simply a fool who should put all this down and concentrate instead on the things that TRULY matter: my relationship, my studies, my writing and my own happiness?

Has this situation finally have brought home how foolish I actually am? That I, Lisa Sinclair, have stomped into a room and tipped over the furniture in a rush to achieve… what exactly? Why am I in this community again?

I stepped away because I needed to find my own way. I saw the people in it, and saw the difficulties I would face. I kept away for 10 years. Then I came back, with a fateful telephone call. That call led me to my partner, and I found some very good friends. It led me on a new path, one I hadn’t considered before.

I’m at a junction. I’m broke. I’m a student in a course I have doubts about actually leading somewhere useful for future work. I run a support group that runs coffee and catchups and is expanding into events.

Yet all I want is to have a quiet, happy, creative life. I want to spend time with my partner that doesn’t include bringing up professional (support group) issues and challenges. I want to be creative. I don’t want politics and roadblocks. I don’t want to find myself as the meat in the sandwich between people. I don’t want to be a people manager, nor do I want to be hassling people. I want this to be simple. I want it to be easy. I want it to be fulfilling for everyone involved. And right now, it’s anything but.

This feels like work. And I don’t even have the satisfaction of knowing that despite how futile things might seem, at least I have a paycheque at the end of the week. That’s because it’s entirely unpaid. I’ve worked like a mad thing on this for 7 months and for what? A neat website, a bunch of coffee catchups and an event which has had severe criticism and politics heaped on it, and which hasn’t even happened.

This rant was brought to you by a Grande Soy Chai Latte with an extra pump, a fake ham and cheese roll and a feeling of unhappiness which will undoubtedly pass at some stage soon.

*sigh*

Back to my essay.