Matter over mind

No, that's not a typo, it's very clever wordplay.

I have a power T-shirt.

It’s not even really my style anymore. It’s a tightly fitted blue concert T-shirt from when I went to see Sufjan Stevens in Stockholm, and it has his name emblazoned on it in bright pink, in a kind of rollerskating rink font, if you know what I mean. It also isn’t clear if it says Sufjan or Sufjam, which I enjoy. But even though I probably wouldn’t buy it again now, it will forever be my power T-shirt.

It’s kind of like a teddy bear you can wear in public. I don’t wear it often because that would dilute its potency (and in fact haven’t worn it in two years because I packed it in a box in New York and thought I had lost it until I unpacked again in London and found it again. Cool story ey), so I save it for when I really need it. It’s a last resort to change my mood when I feel like I’ve done everything else in my power to change it. If I’m feeling shit and I’ve been for a walk and a swim and cooked myself a nice dinner and talked to a long distance friend on the phone and read a comforting book and cleaned my room, and I still feel bad, it’s time for the T-shirt.

When I was in Scotland last weekend I re-read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. I had stupidly only brought one book with me so was scouring the house for reading material, and that’s what I found. There’s a bit in the book where Christopher determines what kind of day he is going to have by the number of coloured cars he sees on his way to school. Four red cars in a row means it’s going to be a Very Good Day. Four yellow cars in a row means it’s going to be a Very Bad Day. If he has two Very Bad Days in a row he’s allowed to close his eyes on the way to school the next day so he doesn’t have another one.

I think having a power T-shirt is kind of like that. It’s an attempt to impose some kind of order on the universe when you feel there is none. It’s an attempt to control the uncontrollable. It’s the thing I put on when I’ve had enough of having a shit time and have made the decision that the shit time is going to end. And obviously, the shirt itself does nothing. It’s not some Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants magical bullshit. But putting the shirt on means that I’ve decided today is going to be a good day, despite what actually happens. It means that stuff that would piss me off normally – someone rummaging through their purse for their Oyster card only when they reach the barrier, or the sink being full of other people’s dishes when I get home, or lighting the wrong end of a cigarette and wasting it (which, for someone who has smoked for twelve years, I do alarmingly often) – floats right over my head. It means I focus on the good things that happen that day, and choose to believe they have meaning, or at the very least that they mean my fortunes are going to change for the better.

I think everyone does this. Whether it’s lucky underwear, or a piece of jewellery you got for your eighteenth birthday, or your particularly sexy top that you only wear on first dates, everyone has material things they turn to when they want things to go their way. And I think it’s understandable; in a world that sometimes feels like it’s taking one continuous shit on you, we cling to things we feel we can control. It’s like listening to Little Mix on the way to a difficult work meeting (or whoever your power band of choice is). It doesn’t actually change anything, or affect the outcome. It just puts you in a state of mind where you think you can handle whatever this stupid life throws at you, and in a weird kind of circular logic, it means that you do end up handling it. Matter over mind, if you will.

This week I really felt like I needed my power T-shirt, and yet every morning I’ve thought about putting it on but haven’t. The idea that I’ve hit some kind of mental rock bottom is not appealing to me, and it’s not one that I want to entertain. I want to think I can bounce back without the need to don my Sufjan T-shirt. Sometimes just knowing it’s there, benignly sitting in my wardrobe, is enough to make me leave the house and tackle another day.

---

One good thing:

I went to a bar on Brick Lane this week which meant I got off the tube at my old work stop. I walked past my old office and thought hahahahahaha I am so fucking glad I don’t work here anymore. They do have some new plants in the lobby though, which is nice.

One bad thing:

Not bad for me, but potentially bad for you if you’re still reading these. I’m going on holiday next weekend for three weeks so you’ll have to live without my ranting for a while. A more organized person would have queued up three weeks of #kontent, but that’s just not who I am. In penance I offer you three no con-texts because I’ve been especially funny this week.

No con-texts:

On business ideas:

On self-care:

On the best (and only) sports documentary I’ve ever watched: