According to various studies that I can’t be bothered to research and to link up here as reference, smells evoke the strongest memories while I think sound comes in second and pictures last. Anyway, don’t quote me on this one, I probably made this up for all I know.
But today, as I was listening to Brandon Flower’s Crossfire (love the song btw), despite it being about a couple going through trying times – I was overcome by my feelings for Eizwan, he sang the song while he cleaned up the kitchen last night since I’m (*gasp* *shock horrors* *no really?!*) sick again.
Which made me think about the odd things that bring up memories. Smells and music do it for me more than pictures – and I do wish sometimes I could control what evoke memories. For instance, it’s a wee bit disconcerting that the smell of Fumakilla, the very good insect killer spray, reminds me of my first few days with Eizwan as husband and wife. It’s romantic in a pesticide kind of way – thinking of dead cockroaches evokes deep feelings of love.
Aside of deriving some loving from some dead cockroaches, I’m ill again. This time from a cold. Two days ago, it was asthma of which Eizwan rushed me to the clinic at 2am for the nebulizer. I felt better on Tuesday before dying Tueday night from a cold. My parents reckon it is because I am too excitable. I don’t think I’m an excitable person. I’m gung-ho, yes, I feel that I can take on the world, yes. So what if I think I can bake a cake, roast a chicken, cook spaghetti with mushrooms and write 3 proposals within three hours? That is what multi-tasking is for!
Heck, I even have Steven Covey’s 4 quadrants on my fridge, reminding me of the things I need to do. And the list seems to go on, and time seems scarce. I’m super busy, I have work that earns me a living, my novel which I’m finally, planting my arse on the seat to sit down and rewrite (except sure…sometimes I spend more time daydreaming what happens after, ahem, the thing gets published – optimistic I know) and then planning all the cookies I’m going to bake before Raya comes along.
But the fact that this is the second time I’ve fallen sick within the short span of getting married might actually mean I’m pushing myself too hard. A friend of mine reminded me of something I said to her earlier – that falling sick is a sign that you’re pushing yourself too hard. That I need to rest. It’s kinda embarrassing to be reminded of your own advice. Well, you know me. Good at giving advice. Bad at following them.
I’m from the Generation Now. I’m the sort of person when I’ve sent a reply on my mail, I click refresh fifteen times after to see if they’ve responded. I think the most of the time, Queen’s “I want it all” is playing a the back of my head. I want things to happen so fast that I’m frustrated that things don’t go the way I plan. But no matter, I’m already making up a plan to get to what I want. I’m perpetually stressed, my shoulder muscles are perpetually knotted up from being ‘ready’. I’m ready to do anything, if you wake me up at 2am because we need to go climb Mt. Kinabalu – I’m game. Because…well, because climbing up a mountain must be in one of those things you have to do to lead a complete and fulfilled life.
I worry that in my crazy pursuit of leading a complete and fulfilled life – I don’t know what it means to be contented. I don’t know if I want to be contented. Somewhere in my warped mind, contentment means the fire within, to drive and to pursue would be dampened. It’s the same crazy fire that forces me to get up when I’m so sick, to write in between naps of recovery. But I might miss the small things in life in this crazy pursuit. If I were to recall my uni days, the best times was not the time when I did well in class (well, that does go up there as a nice, smug feeling) but the times when I skipped tutorials to get dessert with David. There are more memories of tea with friends then there are of classes.
I’m trying to have everything – a beautiful relationship with family and friends, the fantastic career achievement, the great spiritual enlightenment and the fantastic health – that I put everything in me to get it.
And then I worry that in my pursuit to do everything, I don’t slow down and take the time to enjoy the journey, that I am so keen to get to my destination, I’ll miss the best parts of life, the time spent with friends and family. But conversely, I worry if I’m enjoying myself too much, that I won’t have the satisfaction of achieving something in my life.
Also I worry that I worry too much – but that’s another story for another day.
For now though, I’m going to keep busy, if sometimes at the expense of my own body. It’s hard to accept that some thing has got to give because all of the above matter to me, and I want them all. Right now, I may be doing things a little wrong but I’ll keep pursuing until I get it right. One day, I’ll be smart enough to say rest now. It’s all okay.