How do you know what is important?

What strikes me, sitting here at my desk with the paraphernalia of my life around me is how carefree I felt on my Namibia trip, despite everything. I think I was carefree because I had no more than the basics and was not in any position to change that (try as I might). We start life in that mode and then somehow we learn that various things are ‘desirable’. I am as guilty, if not more so, than many people. Having a large house, a nice car and a good income appeared to be the things to strive for as proof of ‘success’ and I’ve pretty much lived that way for the last twenty years. Perhaps even more so as a single women it has seemed important to show that I can exist in my own right not just at the average level but on a level that competes with those around me to whom I compare myself (silly, silly mistake) and these are mostly men. But does my life have meaning? It had significant meaning, at one point, when I thought that I had succeeded in winning (interesting word don’t you think) everything I wanted but which turned out, in the way of things, to be no more than a mirage and which disappeared before my very eyes and with as little trace. And so I’ve filled that vacuum, that empty space, with activity and in mitigation of my choice much of which has had merit (not for me the vacuity of shopping) and yet I still vacillate. But between what? Between the drive for high achievement and the need to just stop and let someone else take care of me for a change. But the risk of the latter choice is great and the outcome unpredictable and so I chose the path of least resistance which strange as it might seem continues to be independence, both emotionally and financially. I believe that we have to supply the meaning to our own life, to be active in our decision making, not passive, and to do things for ourselves. It is not the way to an easy life, only a worthwhile one and it is up to us as individuals to decide what really matters and what we want to make of our life with those 254,360 hours we have going. Involvement and fulfillment. It all sounds so very easy but I still haven’t decided which nevertoolate activity to do next. And they say indecision is fatal, so really I’m buggered.

Onwards and upwards

Whilst my adventures in Namibia might have somewhat missed the spot, I'm looking forward to tackling the rest of my list some of which I am sure will blow my mind.  Being a pragmatist at heart - and that's a good thing, given my first nevertoolate experience - I am not convinced that dwelling too long on anything is good for the soul.  Sure, we need to muse a while, sit back and momentarily reflect on what life throws at us, afterall what are four hour bus rides for, but I am not convinced that the inclination that some people have to dissect and analyse their every movement, utterance and interaction really does them much good in the long run.  Live life, do good, don't do harm. And we all know, actually, what constitutes right from wrong.  What makes the ones you care about or love happy, is right.  What makes them unhappy or undermines their confidence is wrong. If you can't get that or won't get that, it means you don't want to.

Anyway, I survived Namibia, intact.  I am home.  And jolly happy I am to.  What the trip has made me realise, amongst other things, is that England is a green and pleasant land and whatever is happening in the economy and the world at large, we are lucky with our lot.  Life has its ups and downs, its peaks and troughs, its times of feast and famine. But however our life has panned out, then it is the life we want or the life we think we deserve.  Because, whatever the situation, whatever the difficulty, the pressure, the problem, there is always choice.  We just have to sit down and think about it and then to do something about it. I read a magazine article a little while ago, I don't remember who it was written by, but there was a box at the bottom of it that gave some advice and so I cut it out and stuck it on my office wall at eye level.  This is what it said, listen up. 

1. Know what you want

2. Know why you want it

3. Know when you want it by

4. Write it down

5. Know the price (I don't necessarily think it means monetary)

6. Pay it     

The article made the observation that it seems easy but I agree that if you are thinking that, then you are underestimating the power of simplicity for achieving great things.  It takes focus and commitment to have the life you want and a person of even greater integrity and morale standing to do it whilst delivering on the commitments you have made to those other people in your life who love you and depend on you.  But I digress from the main theme of this blog though morale standing and personal integrity is a worthy and just subject.  This blog is about the adventures of the NeverTooLate Girl and the next adventure is beckoning.  So, here's my choice:

It’s Never Too Late to....

1. Learn to fly 
2. Learn to shoot 
3. Have a personal shopper day
4. Fly to NY and have a hot dog on Fifth/go to Macys/stay at The Plaza
5. Have a date with a toy boy (my personal favourite)
6. Do a sky dive
7. Eat at The Ivy
8. Drive a Lamborgini/Ferrari/Maserati
9. Climb a mountain (I’m planning Everest for my 50^th)
10. Have a spa weekend
11. Write a book
12. Get a detox
13. Read War & Peace
14. Go on a demonstration for something you believe in
15. Attend a Premier in Leicester Square
16. Go to Royal Ascot
17. Meet the Queen
18. Get cosmetically enhanced
19. Learn a language
20. Make money from doing something you love

An eclectic mix and not at all definitive.  So what are your ideas? Share them with me and the world and then let's do them together.

Never Too Late Rating for Bushman Medical Volunteer

5 – you can’t miss this, MAKE IT HAPPEN

4 – fab experience worth the time and money

3 – you may get something out of it

2 – not worth taking time out for

1 – take this off your list

OVERALL RATING FOR THIS EXPERIENCE 2/5

• Would I recommend this as a NeverTooLate experience for someone like me? No
• Would I recommend this as a NeverTooLate experience for anyone? Maybe a final year med student or newly qualified doctor with an interest in GP work.

Leaving today

The bus is coming in an hour to pick me up to take me to the airport and I have been busy getting my blog up to date. This is my last entry before I arrive home tomorrow lunch time (Friday 8^th) and I am looking forward to a relaxing and tranquil weekend catching up with people and if the weather holds, sitting in my garden.

This part of the blog is really just the start of a longer and more extensive NeverTooLate theme and so I hope if you’ve enjoyed it you will continue to read. Pass on the link to your family and friends and anyone else you think might be interested. I’m always looking for NeverTooLate ideas so if there is something you’ve always wished you’d done then tell me and I’ll try it out and let you know if it’s worth the time, the effort and the money. In the meantime, adieu.

Final 24

Back at the Chameleon Guesthouse on Wednesday afternoon I find myself in a room called Kudu and I have my first double bed of the holiday. An image of Langkwai is still sitting gently at the back of my mind and I decide that I am not going to do any writing today but instead am going to lounge in the sunshine, read a novel and just chill. I’m tired after the journey and a slightly disturbed night so decide to stretch out on the bed for a minute or so but find myself drifting off into sleep. When I wake up its 5 o’clock and the sun has gone down but I feel perky and refreshed and stand under the shower keeping to the five minute rule this time, because I don’t feel quite so grumpy as last time. I dress in something vaguely clean trying not to disturb my packing too much because I can’t believe I’ve actually fitted everything into my suitcase and that it still closes. I wander to the bar and then into the TV lounge where the plasma is showing Mutiny on the Bounty. There are beaches, palm trees, crystal clear seas and coconut shells full of something I’m sure must be Mai Tais. If I’m not mistaken a handsome young waiter can just be glimpsed in the background distributing cold towels, with a smile, to the crew. I put Tahiti on my list. I’ve booked a cab to take me to Luigi and the Fish, a restaurant in town only about 5 minutes drive away. I’ve been there a couple of times before and know how to get there from the Chameleon so I am surprised when the taxi driver turns the opposite way out of the road. I give him the benefit of the doubt but we start to speed off to the other end of town and I know we are going in the wrong direction. He pulls up in a dark lay-by outside a closed restaurant called La Marmite. I tell him this is the wrong one and he says this is where I said I wanted to be brought which I know I didn’t, so I repeat again, ‘Luigi and the Fish’. He swings the car around and takes us at speed through a series of dark back streets and I am just deciding that at the next traffic lights I am going to get out of the car when we pass a sign saying Klein Windhoek and I start to recognise where we are. When I get out of the car outside Luigi’s I give him a hundred dollar note and he tells me he doesn’t have change for the fare which is fifty. He tells me to pay him both fares on the way back but I don’t intend to get back in his cab again so I ask him to wait and I go into the restaurant and get them to break the hundred. I tear up the card he has given me with his number on. The meal at Luigis is bad. I’ve chosen Schnitzel because it is down on the menu as a speciality but when it arrives (too quickly) it is rubbery and tasteless. The waitress asks if everything is alright and I tell her the schnitzel is rubbery and tasteless and she says oh dear. When she clears my plate which is almost intact and presents my bill she asks if I’d like a doggy bag so I know she is working on autopilot. They call me a cab and when I get outside I find the same guy waiting for me.

Back at the hostel bar I sit drinking a Windhoek Lager and watching Happy Feet on the overhead TV. At ten o’clock this is turned off mid film and so I make my way to bed. It is my last ever night in Windhoek.