How to Handle the Good Times

By Abi King | From The Heart

Jun 21

How to Handle the Good Times

Things have been going well, lately. And it’s difficult to tell if that’s good for me

In the last fortnight I’ve come face to face with inspirational figures from my childhood (one Richard Branson, one Stephen Fry) all thanks to my work on this blog.

I’ve seen natural wonders my little heart couldn’t have dreamed of in the early morning light on the plains of Nevada where wild horses raced across the sun. I’ve sung in the studio that discovered Michael Jackson, Diana Ross and Stevie Wonder (though location is where the similarity ended.)

Wild horses at Mustang Monument in Nevada

Stunning wild horses at Mustang Monument, Nevada

The Good Times

And on the more important, home front (which I safeguard on this blog) my health and hearth situation is the best it’s been for years. I no longer have to plan my days around pain and how long I can spend on my feet. The nasty bug I picked up in Ecuador is showing signs of finally going away. And there are some other things too

It’s a long way from perfect; but the juicy smile of life seems fruitful once again

And against all my better judgment, I’m a little nervous to say so

Isn’t it tempting fate to say your health is on the up, and that business is going well? Doesn’t pride come before a fall and with every rung of the ladder you climb, the crowd around you grows that is happy to see that fall?

These sound like superstitions that I can’t believe that I believe in

And yet…

And yet…

Abi King singing in Motown

Singing in the Motown Studio, Detroit

Stage Fright

The writing’s coming harder this week, the photography too. In another piece of good news, Lonely Planet featured my work on instagram. I haven’t published a photo since.

Dear sweet Lord of common sense and all ridiculousness, why?

This should have been the boost to my creativity, not the rusty squeal of brakes.

So, too, should have been the days spent in Dublin, following in the footsteps of Oscar Wilde, Yeats, Swift, Stoker, Joyce.

Normally when I get stuck, I make a point of visiting galleries, of reading classic books, of exploring science. Of bathing in the brilliance of those who have gone before me in the hope that the soapy scrub will leave me with clean bubbles of bright ideas.

This week, for some reason, that does not appear to be the case.

James Joyce Reading on Bloomsday in Dublin from @insidetravellab

James Joyce Reading on Bloomsday in Dublin

Navel Gazing

And so, here I am, writing this excruciating, navel-gazing ode to bewildered blogging causes.

Of course I know that there are bigger problems out there.

And of course I don’t believe in superstition (right, right?!)

And I appreciate the idiocy of even writing about this subject. But, but…

Fry said, on Tuesday, when asked about the afterlife:

“I find it immensely refreshing and liberating to know that this is it. That this life is all you have got. There is no waiting for later, this life is what you have and it inspires me to live every moment of it.”

Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s the thing that’s sent me blinking into the sun. The reminder that if this is all there is then you’d better get it right.

Another journalist asked me, back in Dublin, if I felt vulnerable sending my work out to tens of thousands of people without so much as an editor or lawyer to back me up if it all went wrong.

I stuttered and fumbled the reply.

Truth is, I haven’t really kept up with that as an idea. To you, dear reader, – hello! – you’re just one person. And that’s how I hit publish and whoosh the words out onto the web.

But to think in tens of thousands, in Wembley Arena terms?

Well, frankly, that’s just a bit weird.

Not least because, of course, most people have no idea who I am – as many a “traditional” journalist seems to delight in telling me.

Metric Mania

Perhaps it’s because when blogging goes well, so comes metric mania.

Phrases that belong in aerobics arrive like bounce rates and landing pages, farm words like “branding” creep in and verbs become nouns in a faintly seedy way (yes, Facebook, I’m thinking “likes” and looking at you.)

It strips the magic away somewhat.

Someone once told me “there’s no such thing as writer’s block. There’s something you’re trying to say and you just don’t want to say it.”

So, if you’ve read this far, thank you and congratulations.

How to Handle the Good Times

Perhaps I just needed to say that I’ve got stage fright and now that I’ve put that “out there” I can continue along my merry old way, creativity aflowing in all directions.

Then again, perhaps my soul should heed some other advice, gleaned from an Australian I met on the snowy slopes of Kilimanjaro.

“Get over it, mate,” he said, to whatever was troubling me at the time.

When all is said and done, perhaps I should just do that.

Get over it quote via @insidetravellab

Until next time, dear readers. When I promise to once again write more about travel – and to fill in the blanks about the experiences I mention above.

Bye for now,

Abi (2)

 

 

Disclosure – I travelled to some of the places mentioned here as a guest of some of the involved parties. I don’t think it has any bearing on what I write here but I just thought you ought to know ;-)

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