All Over The Place

I’ve been spending long, distracted hours staring into middle distance again. It tends to happen after a visit home. Daydreaming. When I snap myself out of it to concentrate on the task at hand (i.e. being a writer) I find I am smiling, so it’s not all bad. But I have been feeling a bit … well … all over the place.

The human cognitive process is set up to make judgements and generalisations. We instinctively establish filters, both consciously and subconsciously, to differentiate between things. It’s nifty really. It begins with our earliest stages of self-awareness. Our developing consciousness decides, “this is me, that over there, is not me”. Who hasn’t played the game where you ask the baby “where’s Mummy?” and everyone applauds when the kid points in the direction of their Mum? And we continue to observe and develop a set of opinions and positions about ourselves and the world for the rest of our lives.

After spending more than six weeks back home in Sydney, I have returned to Singapore. In less than two weeks I’ll be moving to London. “Home. Not home. Sort of home … Me. Not me. Maybe me.”

What’s been distracting me is a pulling sensation between places. If my mind is tousling between reliving recent memories of loved ones in Sydney on the one hand, and trying to work in Singapore on the other, then where am I? If there’s a tiny future-bound part of me that has already taken up residence in London (I can see her clearly sipping tea in a coffee shop, scribbling notes and being pompous) then where am I? Am I here in Singapore, or back there in Sydney, or projected forward into London? I have to say that I don’t have the answer.

However, one quietening thought has struck: I do know one place where I definitely am … I am here. Yes indeed, I’m right here. In the blackness of the letters I’m typing onto this screen. Curled up in this word. And this one. I’m definitely wrapped around these words here. My grubby fingerprints are all over this sentence. And I’m stealing a kiss with this one, like it’s a secret lover.

And, joy upon joy, you’re here too … In fact, you were part of that stolen kiss. You minx! You’re wrapped up with me in these words, just by reading them. I am boundlessly grateful to you for that. It’s nice to know we are here … Especially when I’m all over the place.

Comments

13 Responses to “All Over The Place”
  1. avatar X says:

    Where ever you look, where ever you go – there you are….
    Live life, make new friends, stir new pots of joyous drama and enjoy the lovely sunshine of London… … … perhaps… pub light then…
    Bangas n mash & a Pint here you come!

  2. avatar unny checkie says:

    You’re only writing these things because you have your shoes on the wrong footses Lovey. It causes the parietal cortex to become disoriented and the contralateral axons will, as a result, miscommunicate with the motor neurons.

    Good News: In London you will be able to buy shoes, in pairs, with one marked “L” and one marked “R” and this disconbobulation will not happen again. So take a last gulp of that beautiful steamy south-east asian air and press forward…x

  3. avatar Mark Lo Schiavo says:

    Chettie
    You were in this country for weeks and we missed each other. On every occasion, festive or dull, we missed each other. Although it’s a big country, it’s a small world. So how did that happen without considerable planning and information. Have you had me chipped so that you can avoid me? Yes, I have heard the little beeping noise, I can hear, you know, I’m not deaf. Only to your pleas of innocence. Forgive me, but I am also incapable of thinking that my niece would do anything devious. At least not to me. Maybe they put the chip in when I went to the vet for the distemper shot. It’s cheaper there, but not much. Anyway, I certainly wouldn’t like to get distemper. Biting people and drooling and licking my balls. Who would want to be doing that at a nice dinner for the handicapped. Leave that to the pole-dancers, they are more supple, it’s expected of them, they do yoga.Anyway, and quite in spite, I love you still. And every bit as much as before. But, I am learning suspicion.
    U M

  4. avatar Deborah Fox says:

    All of us do this, constantly. We’re in tomorrow before it has begun; we’re in last week, and we’re here, in this moment. The thing to remember is, that the here, is the only thing that really matters – so we must not forget to come back.

    df

  5. Chet I have just realised that you had a nice column in November of last year, to which I had not replied! Well! I have just set that right. I didn’t know you were going to write about “Cuppa tea’d be noice”, since it was sort of privileged information, or in the Lo Schiavo context, like the Queen of Dig, or King Rats in your Dinner Jacket. Or whacking your uncle with the water-pipe. Everything is becoming so well-reported these days, I ca’t have a little stain on my boxers without it getting into print somewhere. The South China Daily, or Weilmaringle Bugle, or the Gulargambone Evening Courier. Like the Coonamble Floods, which were nothing of the sort, not even a flood, we had more water over the dam when Ethel Waller fell into the bath tub in her dressing gown. But the SES were here, and the premier stood out in the rain, mostly so none could see how wet she was behind the ears. The Coonamble Floods were reported in New Zealand, the UK, Canada, the McMurdo Polar research station in Antarctica, and Ascension Island, which is just south of the Equator in the middle of the Altlantic. And they didn’t happen in the first place! So Cousin Georgia’s Non-Fiction Fairy-Tales are as likely to contain the Soul of Veracity as any of the other rags published in all forms of media all over the world! There’s a perspective for you! Bullshit IS Global! Wonder what it’s like in other parts of the galaxy…

  6. avatar Clare Cahill says:

    Yesterday is history and tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift that is why they call it the present.

    Enjoy London lovie, I am sure they are ready and waiting to receive you.

    CC

  7. Ah, place. Such a various and enigmatic contemplation.What defines place? Geography or people. I find place to be undefinable as I never seem to sense that I belong only in one place, but in the several places occupying a place in my heart at any one time. It leaves me with a sense of – to Quote Louis MacNiece – “The drunkeness of being various”

  8. avatar Candice says:

    Good on you Georgia and best of luck in London. Love your site, gorgeous graphics! Shame not required. Look 4wd to reading more…

  9. avatar Renee says:

    It’s true, you are here. And you are there.
    As for what you are, I think the early mind is on to something when it begins to distinguish what you are not. After all, the principle of negation is one of the only truly irreducible concepts in existence. You cannot deconstruct it. You cannot define negation without using the word ‘not’. It is a logical simple, and a cornerstone of all understanding. I like it. Always remember what you are not.
    I love being with you in your words.

  10. avatar Azman says:

    Did you leave your turnip at my place?

  11. avatar Anna says:

    As you obviously know, to live up in the here and now is the biggest challenge in life. But to recognise that’s the challenge and that it’s something to strive for, then it’s half the battle I reckon. Most people don’t question these things. So you’re half way there. Between Australia and Londan, and knowing and not knowing. But you’re on the way. I hope you love your life in Londan.

    Anna

  12. @ X – And, my dear X, here I am! A pint, tick! Bangers and mash, tick! Sunshine, tick! Hope you’re smiling and enjoying it there too. Big love.

    @ unny checkie – I’ve been shoe shopping continuously here in London Checkie – and you’re right! Every pair helps stave off discombobulation! … I shall keep researching though … Just to be sure!

    @ Mark LoSchiavo – Uncle! Do not give in to suspicion! It’s unbecoming my dear. I would no more avoid you than you would mock me! It just wouldn’t happen. Would it?! No. I’m dunking that chip into some dip as I write.

    @ Deborah Fox – I’m always on the way home my love. Even and especially at the beginning of the journey. Often I’m back before I left which is nice. Always I’m there with you, which is even better.

    @ Uncle Marco – I’m relatively sure that you’re not drawing a link between my column here and universal bullshit … Relatively sure. I won’t give in to suspicion on this. It wouldn’t be right.

    @ Claire Cahill – Hello divine lady! I am indeed enjoying the present of, and presence in, London! I hope you’re enjoying the gifts back home my sweet – you deserve the best of them.

    @ Candice – Thank you lovely Ms Lemon-Scott! And massive CONGRATULATIONS on your remarkable, award-winning article, “The Realities of Reflux”!!

    @ Renee – You, my lady, make me feel not alone, not far, not negated, and certainly not misunderstood! Thank you darling. I love being with you in the words we share!

    @ Azman – The turnip isn’t mine. The bowling ball, the bowl of petunias, and the embroidered hanky are.

    @ Anna – I am loving London and the journey Miss Anna (and I secretly revel in the secure knowledge that I won’t “arrive” … thankfully!). Thank you so much for your kind words, and for reading me. I truly appreciate it.

  13. avatar MarkSpizer says:

    great post as usual!

Leave A Comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.