Dialogue with my subconscious, day one.

10 May 2010 (Monday)

“Boss, I’m in seriously deep water here. I just can’t go on. It’s been weeks now – I can’t even write a story. Aaaaagh! The very thought of it makes me sick.”

“You’ve lost your routine.”

“I know, you’ve told me that before – but the thing is I can’t get back into it. I think I’m having a nervous sleep down, or eat down or something – I almost wish I was having something, at least then I’d have an excuse to munch and sleep…”

“You don’t need one.”

“I just can’t get down to it. Just can’t. All I want to do is curl up and hibernate. Is that normal?”

“Look. Just take a deep breath and don’t panic.”

“But I want to panic – that way I’ll lose control and go and eat again.”

“Now listen, you’re stronger than you think. Let’s just get a few things straight.”

“Yes, go on, say it. I can’t write and I might as well give up the whole thing, that’s what you want to say, isn’t it? That I could have written twelve books in all the time I’ve spent sleeping.”

“Firstly, you do sleep an awful lot, more than you should do perhaps, but let’s look on the bright side – at least you don’t have a sleep deficit…”

“Oh boss, let me blub!”

“And secondly, yes, you do munch a lot and your stomach is starting to resemble a hot air balloon…”

“Aaaaagh, boss!”

“But only some days. Besides, you have to look on the bright side – ok, you’ve gone on an Elvis diet that much is true, but you’ve been cooking some very nice dishes lately…”

“Aaaaagh, boss! I can’t keep off the fried bread!”

“And those cakes were certainly very tasty…”

“Oh boss, I’m getting hungry again!”

“But there is another and more important circumstance which is perhaps the cause of your work standstill at the moment and the reason why you’re eating and sleeping so much…”

“What is it? Tell me!”

“Well, you know yourself. The changes going on in the background – your new lifestyle. You’ve given up pizza, you’re giving up cocoa, you’ve even given up cheese…”

“Don’t. You’ll make me cry.”

“Chocolate is a thing of the past, as is cheese…”

“That hit me hard, that did. I still haven’t come to terms with it.”

“So you see, you’ve got an upheaval going on in your life – and you don’t even realise it.”

“Is giving up cheese really an upheaval?”

“Well, yes it is, although not just cheese – it’s the whole shebang. You’re leaving your old life behind.”

“Ah yes. My old tamasic lifestyle. That’s out these days. Keep those tamas away from me.”

“Well you have to admit that you’re better for it. ”

“Well, that’s true. Although I've hardly noticed – I’ve been busy snoozing.”

“Because your body is adapting to the changes.”

“It’s not doing much adapting if it keeps going off for a snooze.”

“Your body knows what it needs best.”

“In that case can I go and get something to eat?”

“No. You don’t really want food – you’re just blotting out the desire to face up to things.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Things are changing in your life and you’re starting on the new yogic road and a part of you is glancing back, sneaking looks at what you left behind, even though another part of you knows this is the right road. And at the moment you can’t see where the new road is leading, yet you know that there’s no going back.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course. And the last thing you want to do is write at the moment. Why? Because you’re living an upheaval – you just want to get through it.”

“I’m living an upheaval, boss. I’m living an upheaval. Can I blub, boss?”

“There’s no need to feel sorry for yourself – you just need to face up to facts. These are changing times for you.”

“I’ll never eat chocolate again (sniff).”

“But if you were to ask yourself deep down 'do I really miss chocolate?', what would your honest reply be?”

“Well, it’s not so much chocolate I miss but the idea of chocolate – the shiny wrapping and the crickle-crackle it makes as you open it – ah! Music to my ears.”

“Well, that one is easily resolved – just get a carrot and wrap it in shiny paper.”

“It wouldn’t be the same, boss. And the carrot is orange, you see – it would be very hard to willingly suspend disbelief. But I get your point.”

“And if you were honest with yourself, do you really miss cheese?”

“Well, it's the same again – I miss the idea of cheese. I miss coming home and knowing that it’s there waiting for me."

"It's a slab of cheese, not a husband."

"It's as if it were, boss, it's as if it were. It’s been hard saying ‘goodbye’ I can tell you – the end of a very happy cheese marriage. Ah, those evenings when it gazed up at me from my pizza!”

“Well, I doubt it’ll get so sentimental over you. And besides, deep down you won’t miss it, nor any of it – you’ve eaten enough cheese and chocolate to last a lifetime.”

“Oh, I know. I know that it’s the right thing, but it’s just prising ‘oneself’ from ‘one’s’ habits that is hard. It all boils down to the fact that we humans are naturally creatures of habit and anything that means change means turmoil.”

“Correct. And at the moment you’re in turmoil.”

“But surely if a writer is in turmoil he’ll write? A real one at least.”

“Perhaps so, but first they have to realise they’re in turmoil. I’m not sure you have. Perhaps now you have, now that I’ve told you.”

“Yes. Gosh, boss, I love you, I really do.”

“You should talk to me more often. Instead of going for a snooze.”

“But you know how it is…if you’re in turmoil anyway.”

“Well, turmoil or no turmoil, I’m the only one who’ll get you writing again.”

“Oh, I know, although boss, wouldn't I be classed as bonkers? I keep writing to my subconscious.”

“Well, no one has ever accused you of being normal, that's true.”

“But boss, talking to me might lower your status as a subconscious - I don’t want you getting bullied by other subconsciouses.”

“Oh, we're very civilised in the subconscious world.”

“Actually, I’m not sure what the plural of subconscious is – I bet it’s one of those words that take a fancy Latin ending just to irritate people – perhaps I'd better go on the internet and check...?”

“No. No internet during work hours. We’ve got to get you back into a routine.”

“Oh, boss, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do it again!”

“You won’t if you don’t write – you need to force yourself. The fact is, you woke up an hour ago feeling rotton and reaching for the fridge like an alcoholic reaches for the bottle, you went out on the bike for a bit and now you’ve come back and written something and you’re feeling better – true?”

“True.”

“So remember that. Just produce something every day – even just a few lines. As long as they make sense. It’s for your own good – you won’t feel rotton and be punishing yourself at the end of the day.”

“I’ll just end up falling asleep again, I know it.”

“Then we’ll have to draw up a strict routine. We know that you have a tendency to fall asleep after lunch so make sure you arrange your bike rides to the supermarket after lunch. You can’t go to the supermarket every day but you can at least go and recycle on the other days.”

“And then once I recycle I’ll flop down for a snooze.”

“Don’t. Write to me. Or write something unconnected to your story.”

“Yes, maybe I should – I can’t seem to stomach stories anymore. I’m so rubbish – I haven’t written a word for weeks, perhaps not months, I can’t even remember.”

“Now, there’s another thing – there’s no need to concentrate on your failures. Like today – you shouldn’t think that you’ve slept all day, munched like a piggy, wasted too much time on the internet and not earned a single cent in the process – no. You have to look at what you have achieved.”

“Aaaaagh. It doesn’t sound like much.”

“Because you’re concentrating on the failures. What about what you have done? You’ve been to your course at college and that was five hours long.”

“Yes, I suppose. Although I read my book all the way through.”

“Well, that’s as may be – you turned up, that’s the important thing.”

“Only in body. In spirit I was still in bed.”

“And this morning you got up at five thirty to make breakfast. And later on you cooked a tasty lunch and made a very nice cake.”

“And ate half of it.”

“But there’s still half left – that’s what counts.”

“Perhaps not for much longer.”

“Try and make sure there is. What’s more you’ve been and recycled and you’ve brought in the washing.”

“From upstairs. That’s hardly an achievement – and I left it out in the rain yesterday so it got soaked.”

“But it won’t do today.”

“I think you’re clutching at straws now, boss.”

“I don’t think so. I think you’re seeing the half filled glass half empty.”

“Ok, ok. There are days when I see it half full too, but usually when I’ve drunk too much cocoa – ah, those were the days!”

“You see? You’re pining over what you’ve left behind. It’s upsetting you and yet what are you doing now?”

“Writing.”

“There, you see.”

“That’s the one thing I wish I was doing more of.”

“Well, you will do. Take one step at a time.”

“Yes…So I need to set up a routine?”

“Absolutely. And I want a strict routine in place. Firstly, find yourself something to do after lunchtimes to avoid sleeping, secondly, give yourself a set task of some kind, or better still request a task from me. Thirdly, try not to overeat, well at least keep to regular eating times – it only throws you off course if you’re munching the whole time and you’ll get chunky and be miserable. Oh, and wash your hair – clean hair is important for your self esteem, you know that well enough.”

“I know, I know. But even that’s an ordeal – I have to get out the egg, mix it with lemon, then olive oil, then spread it on my head (whilst spraying the bathroom with yoke) plaster myself with cling film, wait half an hour and then wash it off with luke warm water and dry myself with a damp towel. Woopy-doo.”

“Poor you, your life is so hard.”

“Ok, ok. I know I’m lucky. But I sometimes wish things were simpler.”

“But you choose them to be this way, and why? So you don’t have to put the commercial chemical stuff on your head – and you’re doing the right thing. Naturally, there are some sacrifices but they’re worth it.”

“You’re right. Bring forth the egg and cling film!”

“You’ll feel much better if you have a clean head.”

“If only I could clean it inside – and put some ideas in it.”

“The ideas are all there – once you open your eyes. Once you realise that upheaval is clouding your sight, you’ll be able to see past the obstacles.”

“Ok. I’m in turmoil, I’m in turmoil.”

“Well, all right, there’s no need to milk it – you just need to know that there are ups and downs in life – we’re not always the same.”

“And now I'm talking to my subconscious! Boss! I’m a failure!”

“No, you’re not. You’ve just got to get back into it.”

“Ok. So what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’? It’s nearly six o’clock.”

“Is the working day over then?”

“Pretty much.”

“What about writing something new?”

“Oh, now you want to write, when it’s rest time for me? Hmmm, well, if you really want, I suppose you could add something to your website – what about a recipe?”

“Aaagh, recipes! I’ve had enough of them.”

“Then keep it short. To the point. Besides no one reads it – they only look at the pictures.”

“Exactly. What’s the point?”

“The point is, it keeps you occupied. And it gets you in the right frame of mind for writing.”

“Yes, I suppose..So what time do I have to be at work tomorrow?”

“Nine. If you can make it before, then do. No pre-work snoozing, please.”

“Ok.”

“And from now on you can sign in every day before work – and we’ll go over the tasks for the day."

“Really? Great! A friend.”

“Hmmm. Perhaps you do need to get out more.”

“It’s more fun talking to my subconscious!”

“Ok, well, try to keep a positive frame of mind. Remember what you’ve done today – nice cake by the way, very tasty."

"I know. Perhaps if I ate the other half no one would notice...?"

"Don't. And don’t think about snoozing.”

“Can I think about food?”

“No.”

“Okey dokey.”