Beginnings

So… Beginnings. Beginnings are hard.

'The longest journey starts with but a single step', or so they want you to believe. The theory here is that you just take that one step, and then you're away. Not far away, mind you. They're not claiming that; they're not complete idiots. No, roughly about one step away, would be my guess. But (and here's the clever bit) you don't give up there; you carry on, giddy with the progress you've already made, and take another step. And then another. And another, and so on and so forth.

It seems great, doesn't it? As travel instructions go, it's pretty clear, it's concise, and it's certainly hard to get it wrong, but don't you think it seems just a little too good to be true? 'The longest journey starts with but a single step.' Does it? Does it really? Really?

Well, fine.

If you want to believe that, then you go for it. Go crazy, knock yourself out. But don't come running back to me (one step at a time), when you're a thousand steps into your journey, only to discover you've no shoes, no coat, no map, no passport. No hope. You've put your faith in a quotation of uncertain heritage, leapt into the darkness (because you didn't check the time you set off, first), and now realised you haven't brought a torch. A torch for fuck's sake! You keep one in the cupboard next to the front door! Why didn't you bring it?!

You fool.

It doesn't take much planning. It's probably not necessary to map out every step. You could, for example, leave finding a place for a toilet stop down to luck, if you wanted. You might get away without even picking a destination, first. Spontaneity doesn't have to die before you ever start out, don't misunderstand me: leaping straight into it can be fun, if 'it' is custard, or an orgy, or a custard orgy (sometimes you can plan too much), but if 'it' is the longest journey, then I think a little forethought would do no end of good. 'The longest journey starts with but a single plan'.

At least, that was my plan. My plan failed.

It's all very well saying that there are certain things you've got to do before taking that single step, but there's no end to them.

1. Put on shoes

2. Before putting on shoes, find shoes..

3. Before putting on shoes, put on socks.

4. Your sock drawer is a complete mess, you really need to sort out your sock drawer before putting on socks.

5. How on Earth do you expect to tidy your sock drawer and not tidy the rest of this mess? The place is a tip. Tidy tip.

Now, to the novice, this might look like mere procrastination.

That's because it is. (You should pay more attention to the novice; he's smarter than he looks.)

But not all endless not-quite-beginnings are procrastination.

What's the first thing you'd want someone to know about you? I don't mean first impressions. First impressions count, sure, but when are they ever the whole truth? Summaries omit. I'm a people person. You're bubbly. He's easygoing, and she's a partygoer. 'Ah,' you nod. 'Yes. I know what the word means; I know them.' (You don't really speak like this, of course: you're not seen as eccentric, even if you'd like to think you were.)

First impressions of you aren't you; they're a not-you that you want to be seen as. Nobody in their right mind ever thinks of anyone they know as 'bubbly.' But people use it of themselves all the time. I used to work with someone who described herself as 'bubbly'. Everyone else called her 'the Rottweiler.' Bubbly is something to be seen as, a shorthand for those that don't know you. And it doesn't fool anyone.

All this is obvious, I should hope. I may be giving the impression that I'm under the mistaken apprehension that I'm sharing some wisdom that I alone possess, but that's not my intention at all (though I do, as it happens, possess wisdom that I have no intention of sharing). But stating the obvious is something we all have to do sometimes.

Obviously.

We also have to generalise quite a lot. Mostly.

Where am I going with all this? About a thousand different places, I think, and that's the problem. That's what I'm getting at. Haven't you been paying attention at all?

Let me start at the beginning: there's no beginning to start at. First impressions don't count (ignore what I said) , and there is no single first step. The longest journey starts with but a single step back; suddenly the scale changes, the map's bigger, and we've got that little bit further to go. That extra step has just made the longest journey longer, and we have to re-evaluate our travel plans. Go on, take a good hard look at what needs doing. Oops, you didn't just take step back then, did you?

You don't know me. Nobody I know really knows me, and I don't know anybody, so that's quite a lot of not knowing. The truth is you don't need to know me half as much as I probably need you to know me. I'm depending on you. The fact that I'm probably speaking to no one is unsettling.

People write blogs for all sorts of reasons. Why am I writing this one? Well, telling you that would be a start, wouldn't it?

dx

*

Subjects of future blogs may or may not include: the relevance of a date in the mid-eighties on understanding mental health problems; an ironic tirade against blogging; a post ironic tirade against bloggers posting ironic tirades against blogging; some idle speculation about time travel (though I may have already done that); and navel gazing in all its many forms.

Your homework assignment this week is to attempt to truthfully complete the sentence 'I am…', giving your answer in a form that is universally true of you, independent of whatever mood or sickness you're currently experiencing. So 'I am bored of you', doesn't count, even if it does happen to be universally true.