Brown Study - Daydreaming

I hadn’t heard of ‘brown study’. When I looked it up and did a bit of online research, I quickly realised that I do it all the time. Deep in thought, away with the fairies, that’s me and seemingly more so at the moment. There is a lot going on to fill my head with worry and make me stressful. Of course, things will improve, but I’ve got to get through the here and now. I drift off into my thoughts, trying to reason things out or work out what to do. There is rarely a solution.

This morning I was enjoying the stroll in the cool air to a group I attend. I was wondering if I would have better staying at home because I was feeling upset and close to tears, but the short walk would do me good and I love to catch up with my friends there. I stopped to cross a road, turned to check for traffic and jumped out of my skin to see one of my friends next to me. She’d been saying my name. I hadn’t heard her. I was away in my own little world of oblivion. We walked the rest of the way together, chatting about the mild weather after I’d explained that I was fine, just lost in a daydream.

I’m struggling to concentrate when reading. I’m near to the end of what is a re-read of a good book and I keep losing it, literally. The paragraphs give way to me overthinking something, so I go over it again then often nod off. It isn’t a boring book, well, some might disagree, but I love the story and it is a real rediscovery now, as a mature adult. I think I was about eighteen when it was mandatory reading and, I confess, some of the content was lost on me. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, thank you, Robert Tressell.

My personal brown study isn’t always about what I might be fretting over at the moment. Sometimes I travel way back, reliving nice happenings, or being angry with myself over doing things I now consider stupid – we make mistakes, learn from them and move on – I don’t need to beat myself up fifty years later. Most of what haunts me from the past are things and events that I had absolutely no control over and remain in residence in a brain cell.

I found this poem meaningful. It’s written by C. Vergara, published on Poetry Soup.

Deep thoughts, without blinking
In a trance, deep thinking

Voices of yesteryear, instilling neurotic fear
Deeper and deeper, across my hemisphere.

Deep thoughts, within my soul
Bringing my running to a slow crawl

Trying to avoid it, but can’t control it
Like a ‘who done it’, I can’t outrun it

Deep thoughts, take over my mind
They begin to grind what’s left behind.

It’s a sign, rectifying
My essence in time.

                              C. Vergara 9/6/2010

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Retirement - Bring It On!

I looked forward to retiring at sixty, as many of us did, and then, a bolt from the blue took away plans and wishes and sat firmly on our state pension for another six years. I’m there now and I still haven’t received the explanatory letter ‘sent to everyone’ when the changes were made. WASPI (Women Against State Pension Inequality) campaigns and protests seem to have been sympathetically listened to in some quarters – Jeremy Corbyn, when Labour leader, said that women were “misled”, the situation “needed to be put right” and “We owe a moral debt to these women.” It was included in the Labour party manifesto. Even if nothing changed, it was going to be looked into. The flicker of hope died with the election result.

Anyway, politics aside, my time has come and I’m trying to decide exactly when to hand in my keys and cross myself off any rotas. I’ve spent lots of time at home during the pandemic, shielding at the beginning, then having to isolate a couple of times when I eventually returned to work.  I like being at home. It’s been good getting a feel for life in retirement and spending more time with my husband who retired early a few years ago.  In normal circumstances we would enjoy the freedom of having lunch out, seeing friends and spending more time with family. These things will come back to us, hopefully before too long. I reduced my hours at work so I’m actually at home more than I’m there, yet I still can’t wait to leave.

I yearn for the freedom to just go where I want, when I want without having to plan in advance and ask permission. Deciding one day that we’re off to Scotland, or anywhere the next day, is the life for me. Spending summer afternoons reading in the garden was bliss last year and I look forward to doing it again. I knit and crochet a lot and love making baby clothes so with a current baby boom going on amongst colleagues at the moment I’ve been  a one woman cottage industry.  My writing has been on a back burner for too long. I was trying to use shielding and isolating time to write a best-selling novel or a brilliant TV series, but they’ve both been done, not by me, by the way, and I’ve been struggling to concentrate lately.  There are lots of things on my retirement list and I certainly won’t get bored. I might get fat(ter) on home-made baking, but never bored. I’ll enjoy finding out who I am, so let’s bring it on.

My poem,

When I can please myself on what I want to do each day
Without the stress and strain of doing my job in the way,
I will take time to rest, to think and to learn who I am,
Apart from a wife, a mother and a nanna called Pam.

My wardrobe’s full of Marks and Spencers matching navy blues,
Formal skirts and cardies and some uniform slim-line trews.
Tunic length NHS blouses, navy with polka dots,
Pockets stuffed with tissues and hair-ties, a tangle of knots.

Let’s get rid of such strict clothing and find a nice, new style,
Dresses, ear-rings, beads and things I haven’t worn in a while.
Skinny jeans, knee-high boots and a home-made Aran sweater,
My family and freedom will soon make me feel better.

I’ll wear long, floaty skirts and lipstick, and I’ll paint my nails,
I’ll join in with other WASPI girls on some campaign trails
And hope some good may come of it, though it’s too late for me
So many ‘50s women need to set their pensions free.

PMW 2021

Thanks for reading, stay safe, Pam x

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