When it feels right
Thursday, 22. October 2009
The main reason I want to move to the seaside is that when I stand there on the beach in the bright sunshine I always feel good no matter what. The first time I ever test drove an Audi it just felt right compared with the car I thought I wanted, a Merc, which felt awful when I rented one for a week to check it out. For twenty years, since before Windows existed when DOS was a big deal, I’ve been struggling with the “wrong” feel of Microsoft blockware, which is the main reason I want to try Apple.
Some things feel right; they relax you, but with energy in hand. Some things feel wrong; they make you nervy and drain your spirit away. Like dealing with call centres and writing to the tax man. Like queuing in the rain at Hammersmith to get into a Ricky Lee Jones concert where she only sang for 45 minutes. Like making a date with the wrong girl at school but feeling you have to go through with it not to hurt her. Like being five years into the wrong career before finally understanding you have to scrap it all and start again.
In my wardrobe I have clothes I so much love to wear that I save them for a special time and never wear them, choosing instead things that I don’t like so much because it doesn’t matter if they wear out. How stupid is that?
I mean, I know it’s supposed to be the path to wisdom to control your desires but I like my desires, very much. I like clean cotton sheets. I like machines that work first time and do exciting things. I always end up glad I had sex even when I thought I didn’t feel like it. I love my food but I don’t want that much of it these days and there’s a range of tastes that feel good to me, such as asparagus and haddock but no longer beef, which feels harsh. So why do I still eat stuff I don’t like, because of a “balanced diet”?
I think I shall put more emphasis on how things feel from now on and less on what might be the sensible thing to do. Sensible hasn’t been such a great success. It doesn’t make your skin tingle and your heart leap.
