I have a playlist named Feel Good Songs and this morning, I had to start the day with it. Music helps lift the melancholia and shines a few rays of sunshine on yet another rainy day here in London. The songs vary from John Denver’s quiet and soothing “Annie’s Song” to The Coral’s more upbeat “Dreaming Of You” ; in a matter of seconds, I find myself less blue and, in the spirit of my latest guest post over at Ula’s, more yellow.
It is only temporary, of course. As soon as the song fades into silence, for a fleeting 3 second moment before the next one starts, something sinks again. But then, “Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground” comes along and all is forgotten again, carried away by Willie Nelson’s mellow voice.
There has been a lot of doubt in the air recently. If it were edible, it would probably taste chalky and bland, like something that once tasted good but has now lost all its flavour. Because that is what doubt does. It snatches it all – the confidence, the baby steps and the well-being.
I had another post lined up for today. But I can’t really think straight. Come to think of it, not much has changed. My routine, or lack thereof, is the same. Wake up, shower, have some breakfast, sip my coffee then choose amongst a variety of unpaid activities.
Send a CV or two, spend a considerable amount on my cover letter because – thank goodness – I still get excited, do more and more research on my novel, some more head-banging on my desk/dining table, do the dishes and ignore the carpet that needs hovering, go to Gatwick for the occasional shift – whoever invented zero hour contracts? – and when I can no longer stand it here, grab the keys and go for a walk in Greenwich Park.
Okay then. Rant over. Patty Griffin is now playing. My American followers are more likely to know her ; I’d be curious to know. “Ohio” ( the song at the top of this post) has now brought a smile to my face and I can feel an American vibe floating in the air. I’m clueless, of course. Having never been across the Atlantic, all I can picture is a series of cliché images but they take me away and that is all that matters.
Forgive this diary-like post. I accept that vulnerability is part of who we are but this has to stop. So off to the Library I go.