New computer, new month, new approaches

March, the bridge of a month between the icy chill of winter and the first beams of spring's toasty sunlight is here and that point alone has me smiling up a storm. Add to it the fact that my new Dell laptop reached me at long last and I'm one very happy camper at the moment!

There's still some setting up, configuring and file transferring to do, but that will all get taken care of soon enough and the main point is that it's here and I was able to type these very words on it.

Naturally, I have a fair bit to catch up on from the past month and my blogging schedule for the first half of the spring has been thrown for an absolute loop (and then some!) because of the fact that I was computer-less for all of February, but as with most things in life, everything will get straightened out sooner or later and I'm trying not to worry too much about it.

Truth be told, I'm trying to worry less in general. I'm a natural worrier and I've battled various type of anxiety my whole life, so stress - especially unforeseen stress - tends to hit me hard.

During the past few weeks of being sans computer, one might have thought (understandably) that I might have taken a bit of a much needed breather, but instead I was hard at work doing as many non-computer dependent things for my blog and my Etsy shop as I could (from outfit shoots with Tony to sorting recently acquired merchandise).

Yet, in the midst of such things, I was able to find time for some areas of my life that I haven't focused on nearly enough in recent years (such as taking more outdoor walks), cataloging all of my modern books, and most importantly of all, reinforcing the concept that I simply must look at my work (blog, shop, and the other websites, such as Any New Books, that Tony and I run) as more of a 9 - 5 job.

At present, health permitting, I usually put in 40 - 80+ weeks between running this blog and my Etsy shop, plus at least several more hours for our other websites, each week. Each is a labour of love and I certainly won't be retiring off these efforts anytime soon.

When it comes to my blog and shop though, money has never been - and will never be (especially regarding my blog) the sole reason why I launched them in the first place (a love of vintage and desire to share in this passion with other like-minded people was a huge driving force behind both). It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell you however, that such a heavy pace is not only a recipe for burnout, but ultimately a less than healthy way to approach your work.

We each need and are entitled to down-time and to have clearly distinct lines between what is work and what is personal time. Can, and do, the two sometimes overlap, you bet your bottom dollar they do - especially when, like myself, you're self-employed - but in this ever more digital world, it's important to remember that we (usually) have the ability to set boundaries and to define how we connect with things, our jobs very much included, on our terms.

I know that in order to keep on thriving, and moreover, genuinely enjoying, my time online and the world that I've built here, I must continue to have better defined work and off-time hours and that, at least once in a while, I have to take full days off and not feel almost cripplingly guilty (generally for zero legit reason) about doing so - and if you're in the same boat, too, I truly hope that you'll be able to do so as well.

I don't say all of this to lead up to any sort of announcement about radical changes, retirement plans, or complete overhauls of my life - not in the slightest.

I say it, in no small part, to help hold myself accountable in terms of separating work from off time more frequently. To remind myself that I am less stressed and far happier when I create time to take nature walks with Tony and Annie, curl up with a good book and Stella on my lap, spend a whole day just visiting friends, rearranging my closet, cooking meals to freeze for future dinners, or who knows, maybe even finally crafting again.

{This matters just as much, when all is said and done, as this does...}

{First image source & second image source}

In doing so, I am able to give more of myself - in terms of the quality of the focused, clearly defined work hours that I put in - and to create an ecosystem that, hopefully, holds far more longevity than burning the candle at both ends until there's nothing but a fizzled out wick stump left.

I believe that we work better, smarter, and healthier when we balance the drive and goals of our career with the other passions in our lives, and though I've rarely been a shining example of practising such in the last few years in particular, I'm vowing - even as a natural born workaholic - to work on changing that.

It's not so much that I plan to work considerably less (I don’t), but rather that I will better define when and how I work, and set boundaries. If I need to post slightly less often here to do that, so be it. If I photograph a few less items for my shop each month, so be it. If I take a little longer to reply to never-ending mountain of work related emails in my inbox, so be it.

These things matter, undeniably, but they aren't the only ones that count and when the end comes for each of us as we look back on our lives, it won't be that we didn't have time to post anything on social media on some random Tuesday in August or the fact that we were five minutes late to the office on Friday January 12th that we'll regret. No, it will be the moments with family, pets, loved ones, nature, travel, great books, our spiritual paths, and our passions that we'll wonder, could I have made more time for?

Chances are, the answer is yes and it doesn't have to mean a total 180 of how you live in the slightest. And that is the beauty of it all. We're here now and we can continue to balance the scales, give a better version of ourselves to both areas of our lives, and find, in the process, that we're happier, healthier, and far less stressed.

I walked away from a month of being computer-less with this concept at the forefront of my mind, and I will embark on life spent with my new laptop better equipped to delegate my time spent on it due in no small part to this unplanned hiatus.

Lessons are everywhere, we just have to keep our hearts and minds open to them.

A few thoughts on the very human act of wanting

In a scene I suspect many of us have taken part in time and time again, I sat there staring at the computer screen not too long ago, debating whether or not to buy something - a timelessly classic dark yellow and forest green plaid dress with a sweeping circle skirt, to be exact.

Like most, I'm careful with how I spend and what I buy, but no matter how responsible one is with money, that's nothing to prevent them from having a wish list a mile long and constantly running into wonderful items that tempt their hearts and wallets.

As I gazed at the online page before me, a mellow early evening light brewing outside and trickling softly through the blinds, I began to think about some of the other items I wanted, and of ones long past that I missed out on. My mind also focused on those I'd taken the plunge on - or which had been spur of the moment buys. Beyond that, I paused to reflect on what I wanted that could not be bought, those things that only time and circumstance can deliver.

Before I knew it, a good ten minutes had passed, and were it not for the kitty darting about in a beam of that golden sunlight that jolted my focus, I might have continued on, digging deeper and deeper into my psyche and the very human desire to continually want certain things for a good deal longer.

There have been many theories put forth over time regarding why we want (want, in this instance, being used to describe something that we wish to see happen or to obtain, but which, strictly speaking, is not a necessary need or element of basic survival), and it is a point I've pondered on far more days than the one described above.

On the one hand it might make life easier if we wanted for nothing (at least on our bankrolls), but I suspect that it would be a somewhat odd, almost animalistic existence, for there is a certain sense of adventure, beauty, and thrill that lies in wanting something - especially if we desire it deeply.

Few amongst us will ever have the ability to snap up everything we want as the whim for an item or experience arises - even the ultra rich have to limit their spending somewhere if they're to retain their grand fortune for long. Having never been fabulously wealthy myself, I can't say as though this is a problem I've encountered, but should it ever crop up, I'll be sure to report back on what it feels like.

No, like the bulk of us, the material wants in my life have far exceeded the reality of what I bought or were given, and that's completely fine - normal, perhaps one might even go so far as to say "right". I was the polar opposite of a spoiled child and I'm grateful for that. Nothing has ever been handed to me on a silver platter, and, I like to believe, that fact has helped me appreciate the things I have been able to obtain - be they large or small - all the more, quite often because I had to work for days, weeks or even months before they were able to come to fruition.

Though, ultimately I don't consider myself an overly materialistic person (having had to part, for various reasons, with nearly all of my worldly goods on three separate occasions, I'm not one to get madly attached to my belongings, nor to build up too extravagant a collection of them), I have no qualms with readily admitting that I enjoy, budget permitting, shopping and acquiring new items.

I also love the feeling of working and saving for something that isn't within your reach the moment you first come across it. Once, in decades not too long past, many items were purchased on layaway plans (which, by and large, are not overly common any more), but online shopping - and much real world shopping now, too - rarely presents us with that option. Instead we must make choices quickly (especially if dealing with a vintage item that might be very hard, if not impossible, to find an exact duplicate of ever again) and, hopefully, decisively.

By the same token, I like - as most of us do - the feeling of knowing that there's something lovely and wonderful waiting for you on the horizon, be it in terms of when you'll be able to obtain or experience whatever it is you're yearning for, or when it arrives at (potentially) long last. Looking forward to something new and exciting can help make the daily grind considerably more bearable, and - I find at least - that the eagerness that comes with waiting can help keep me in a cheerful mood (as just thinking about said item makes me happy).

Buy, pass, save for (if possible), or add to a wish list, be it real or figurative - perhaps to receive as a gift one day. More often than not though, especially when dealing with sites such as etsy and eBay, it's the first two options that surface. You can favourite a piece or add it to a wish list, but timed auctions wrap up in a matter of days and etsy (and Buy It Now listings on eBay) can be snatched up at absolutely any moment. Knowing this compounds the pressure that one feels to make a timely decision - and the one that we hope will be the right choice.

Not every purchase need bring about such cause for thought and debate, of course, but most of us face this "do I, don't?" predicament on a relatively frequent basis, especially if we truly adore an item, but are watching our spending carefully.

Ultimately only you know if it's wise or not to buy right then and there, and if you'll likely regret it in the long run if you do not (as I'm sure you have as well, there are a few items that "got away" over the years, which I'll always wish I could have snapped up, but there are many too that I was able to buy and which have brought me great joy ever since).




And so we come back to the dress (pictured - in the etsy seller's photo - above) that launched this whole chain of thoughts on the topic of desire and spurred the creation of this post. For surely inquiring minds want to know, did I buy it?

Yes, my dears, I did indeed, as I knew that doing so wouldn't break the bank in that moment and the dress filled a void (I'd been hunting for a yellow vintage frock for months in a shade that would work with my colouring) in my wardrobe, while bringing me a lovely moment of happiness and contentment once I'd made up my mind to go ahead and call it my own.

Now to find a matching dark yellow vintage hat and begin the the whole process anew.