Headspace

I find myself struggling to juggle and focus in the way that I used to. I prided myself on my ability to switch between my various headspaces as quickly as I wanted to – work, photography business, websites I’m a part of running – and to be able to pick up where I left of and to pursue that line of thought as long as I wanted to. Then the most wonderful thing happened – we had Eli. The amount of changes that have happened to our life are amazing, and I still don’t even have my head wrapped around all of them. Changes that have been good and bad, challenging and joyous. Challenges that should be chronicled another time, though. The surprising one has been my inability to just direct my mind in a certain direction, and let it loose: to dream, plan, critique, and create.

The struggle has come to a head recently, and it has (coincidentally enough) been in my thoughts a fair bit. I’m sure that Eli is not the only contributing factor. Part of it has to do with the place that work is in right now. So many changes have occurred to my job over the last year that my position description now (again) no longer reflects what I actually do. Blissfully, a lot of the crap has been cut from my job, and I’m able to solely focus on the parts that I love, and the parts that stretch me. On top of all that, the changes that are happening to our workplace mean that everything is up for grabs – including the opportunity to start afresh on many aspects that have become either run down over time, or completely neglected or ignored. At the junction of the two changes is me: the new role has me doing a lot more creative and deadline work, and at the same time I have the opportunity to be researching and presenting and pleading the case for things I see we need to be doing that we just flat out aren’t. There are simple, simple things that an organisation of our standing should be doing, which haven’t even been discussed – and we now have the opportunity to look into them. Again, in the forefront of all of those opportunities is me, with the chance to begin to widen the scope of our work, and enhance the quality and professionalism of what we do.

All of that requires time. Time not just to research, collate, present and enact, but time to think. This is where the struggle lands me. There are these marvelous opportunities to push the envelope and in the process push the limits of my professional abilities, and they all require the time and headspace to even begin to do them justice. Don’t get me wrong, the creative work I get to do is fantastic, and barring the odd logistical headache, enjoyable as hell. But having the ability to dream big has me excited about my career in a way I haven’t been for a while. I want to give my headspace over to this to do it justice, but I struggle to find the ability to do that. And all of this is from my nine-to-five job.

The real complicating factor is when you begin to add in the other aspects of my life that require major headspace. I run a photography business on the side. I have clients to deal with, photos to edit, shots to prepare for and actually shoot, a new assistant to encourage, grow and adjust to shooting with someone else, all on top of the other work. I’m part of a team that runs an online community that is undergoing a time of major change and development, and requires thought to go into the future direction we should take. There’s documents to read and ingest, and responses to plan for an upcoming meeting. Not to mention the day to day keeping up with the site itself. I’m also a dad. A dad who gets to work the majority of his time from home, which puts me in the luckiest bracket going.  I’m above all of that a husband. All of these things vie for that seemingly ever-diminishing headspace, in a battle that seems to be only ever increasing in intensity.

And then something like this happens:

Anglesea Holiday-9

We just spent eight days on holiday down in Anglesea, and after finally sitting down and worrying about nothing more than meals, Eli, and whether to sit in the sun or the shade, I realised that I needed to stop. It even took me five days before I made this startling realisation, that I needed to slow down, and to breathe. All of those things are a part of my life, that isn’t going to change. But they all also require me to prioritise where my time and headspace to go, and not to let them dictate that to me.

I made this frame of Eli one morning after breakfast. We were camped in amongst these trees that provided shade in the morning (bliss when sleeping under canvas in Summer), and some respite from the coastal wind. Sitting amongst them, feeding Eli his breakfast, the idea came to mind of the image: a child surrounded by twisted, dark trees, but not overcome by them – curious and brave and with a nature of exploration. And that was the particular moment when it all clicked.

Flying In

The humidity is the first thing that hits me. As soon as I step out of the plane, I can feel the moisture in the air clinging to my skin and everything around me. It’s a familiar feeling, and I’ve long since found that I seem to deal with humidity a lot better than most. Whether it’s got something to do with the months spent in Malaysia visiting all of my Mum’s side of the family when I was a kid has anything to do with it, I’m not sure. What I am sure of is the slightly comforting feeling that it gives me each time I step off a plane in a humid place.

People are madly rushing to try and disembark as soon as they possibly can. One lady pushed her way from the very back of the plane to our row, 9th from the front, onto to be confronted with a wall of people also waiting to get their hand luggage out of the overhead compartments, and make their way down the stairs to the tarmac. Why she rushed, pushed and forced her way forward when in the end it made no difference to how quickly she was able to get off the plane, I don’t know. Beth and I shared a look as she came to a grinding halt right in front of Beth’s nose.

Inside the terminal, we’re greeted by the baggage carousel almost immediately. The whole airport is tiny, much smaller than any other airport I’ve flown into before. People are milling about, waiting for the conveyor belt to start up. I grab a place in the front row of passengers, not wanting to force my way through the crowds when our bags finally start appearing. An announcement comes over the PA, informing us that “Passengers arriving on flight TT504 please be advised there will be a delay of 20 minutes before your baggage will be available.” Collective groans fill the small arrival hall, and many people turn to their traveling companions in disbelief. They begin to wander off, not wanting to stand in one spot for the next 20 minutes, especially after sitting in the same seat for the previous two hours. A line forms almost instantly for the toilets, which Beth joins – a line that quickly becomes umpteen-odd people deep.

I decide to stay where I am, opting to stand instead of further sitting, and checking how things are progressing online on my phone. The terminal is the size of the office building I work in – which in itself is no big building by any stretch of the imagination – so there’s not much to explore. A quick check and update of both twitter and facebook fill the first couple of minutes, before I start to study my fellow passengers. As the stragglers arrive through the doors from the walk across the tarmac, I start to put complete pictures of people to the fragments I glanced of them through the gaps between seats and rows, or a glimpse as I walked past them.

There’s the pre-teen girl who was sitting one row behind and one seat over from me, who spent the entire flight playing a game on her dad’s laptop – with the annoying, high-pitched dinging sounds included. Whether it’s her age or her lack of patience – or more probably a combination of the two – she doesn’t seem suited to air travel. Immediately upon taking her seat in Melbourne, complains started about why the window couldn’t have been moved so that the seat looked directly out it. Or why the flight wasn’t going to take 5 minutes like it looked like it would on the map.

There’s also the group of twenty-something-year-old guys that were taking up three or four rows across the aisle from us. During the 80 minutes of the flight that drinks were served, they managed to consume several cans of beer each – with the promise of more to follow as soon as they arrived. The minute the announcement comes across the speakers, they grab their hand luggage and go searching for food and drink.

I can’t help but laugh to myself, as not more than three minutes after the announcement, our bags start to come out the conveyor belt. Within another minute, my bag and Beth’s suitcase are in our hands, and we head out the door to wait for Kaz. It’s overcast and spitting rain, but it’s still warm and humid. The sun will follow, we’re sure.

Kaz drives us to our apartment, and we check in. The apartment itself is far better than I thought it was going to be, and much better than the photos on their website led me to believe. It’s very nice, very modern, and has a fantastic view out the balcony, looking right out over Coolangatta Beach. Lunch is had on the balcony, and we settle in for the afternoon.

It’s going to be a good holiday.