I have started to notice a trend in my dressing. I absolutely love the mix of black and white together. The black is sharp and the white freshens the look. Add a red lip and you have found my chic spot. I’m not sure what happened in the last few years, as I used to absolutely love colour. Don’t worry, I’m not going monochrome. However, black and white dressing is definitely where I feel my coolest these days.
Fashion aside, this week has been pretty eye-opeing really. I am beginning to learn the long forgotten art of patience. Now, anyone who knows me knows patience is definitely not one of my virtues. But I’m learning…slowly. On a big picture level – it’s about having the trust that things will work out how they are supposed to – and in the time they are meant to. On a lower level, it is finding the grace to pick yourself up off the floor when things don’t go how you pictured. It is giving up the need to control every single situation. It is releasing the word ‘should’ from your vocabulary. I should be doing this. This should be different. Life should be easier.
Well it isn’t. It just is what it is. And we can either get pissed off about it, or look for all the good hidden in amongst the sometimes-not-so-good.
Yesterday this point was illustrated to me beautifully. I was on campus at the University of Canterbury to meet my cousin for lunch and do some work. Suddenly, at the café where I was having my coffee, the fire alarm went off. As we all shuffled out into the grey of the day, I found an outside table to sit and wait. Waiting is usually something I avoid. Preferably I will have something with me to read. Or, I will just mutter under my breath about how I am too busy for this shit. But in the spirit of a more simple and beautiful life, I decided to enjoy the five minutes outside in the fresh air and do some people-watching.
Whilst sitting there, I looked around at all of these students (feeling incredibly old) and reminisced about when I was last at UC. I thought about how they were some of the freest and most gorgeous years of my life. No longer a child, not yet an adult. It was a wonderful land in-between.
As I watched all the students rushing to classes, I had a lovely realisation. I was once one of them. Rocking around in chucks and jeans, stressing about exams, excited to drink cheap wine that night at someone’s Ilam flat. And now, all these years on, soon I will be their teacher. A job that requires the patience that I worried I would never posses.
But, it took a fire alarm and a reality check to show me that I am totally ready to take on that responsibility.
Plus, professors really need someone to come in and teach them how to dress…
Much love XX