Simple is too complicated

This week I really really wanted to stop a bit and just enjoy time with my friends. Something simple, nothing fancy. Sit down, listen to music, have a bit of homy food, pão de queijo, brigadeiro. Something that is festive but in an ordinary way. Something spontaneous.

But spontaneous doesn't work this way: you can't plan it. And simple these days is just too complicated, in so many levels. It's not simple to find time to sit down, to find the stuff to make pão de queijo, to explain a brigadeiro, to explain what counts as simple, and why.

I think that one of the hardest things of living abroad is to have to come to terms that your familiar and simple is now fancy and exotic. And what counts as plain and simple is neither plain, simple or straightforward to you at all. And spontaneous sometimes takes just too much effort.

This week's resolution: to plan less.
(If the plan is not to have a plan, does it count as a plan? It should, it's a lot of work.)

Perfect is the oposite of done

Perfectionism. It is the habit not only of finding flaws in everything that is done, but also not wanting to do anything that is not perfect. And as that is impossible if you're a perfectionists, you can easily fall into simply not doing anything. Period.

Perfect comes from the latim for "thoroughly done." But sometimes the obsession with "doing thoroughly" hinders it being done at all.

Esterical resolution for the week: emphasise the "practice" part in "Practice makes perfect". Focus less on finding the perfectest roundest most aerodynamic ball. Focus more on just getting it off my court. And get the game going.

Starting with this blog.