Two posts in one afternoon. Watch out, world!
I had a moment of clarity today while responding to a friend’s response to my earlier post. I admit, I have been trying to accomplish too much in a short amount of time, and I’m doing everything poorly. Now I am unaccomplished and highly frustrated. I’m sure I’ve written this before, but I think I’m finally hearing what I need to hear.
I’ve spent the last couple of hours thinking about what I really enjoy doing, and what I’m doing just because it sounded like a good idea at the time. I love learning new things and I’m usually game for anything. Just learn a little bit here and there, get an idea of how it all works and move on. But I haven’t been letting go like I should, and it’s weighing me down. I’m losing my joy. And – most importantly – there’s no room left to grow. It’s time to thin the herd and move on.
Parlez vous francais?
I’ve had a lot of fun working on my house over the past few years, but I’m getting really tired. It’s a huge burden and want to do something else. I want to travel. Specifically, I want to go back to France. I took French in middle and high school, plus 2 years in college, but I’ve barely spoken a word of it in 25 years. And let’s be honest: I was not a stellar language student. All that memorizing! While I think I could make it around Paris relatively easily, understanding the language would certainly make the experience more enjoyable. Time to break out those old textbooks I’ve been lugging around for decades. I never actually thought they’d actually see the light of day again.
There are all kinds of learning sites on the internet as well, but this one (http://www.bbc.co.uk/languages/french/gauge/) lets you test your strengths and weaknesses. I selected the beginner level and snagged a 100% in listening, and 88% in both reading and speaking, and a whopping 20% in writing. Not bad for a old slacker, huh?
So, to start: French is in, knitting is out, renovations are on the back-burner and painting is non-negotiable.
I think this may just work.
