Super powers
Saturday 31st December 2011
I have the following super-powers (and later I will delight you with a list of powers I
wish I had):
I can empty the vacuum cleaner. Yes, I alone have mastered this feat and I therefore single-handed hold the perils of over-full vacuum drums at bay. This make me Dysono-Woman.
I can empty rubbish bins. Unlike other mortals (that I live with) I can instantly identify when a rubbish bin is in need of emptying. To do this I employ one of my highly developed sensory powers (eye-sight). For this I am named Bag-Lady.
I can fill in, read and regularly consult a diary. This super power was bestowed upon me by my super-power God-Mother, W H Smith-Woman. This power conveys the title: Date-Gurrl. Yes, it is a very cool power.
I can make lists. This is possibly my most awesome super-power because not only do I make my own lists, I make lists for the mortals in my care. They super-
love it when I do this! And I sense (due to my super powers) rather than actually hear, their grateful thanks. This makes me Listeria.
I can tell the difference between silver foil and aluminum cans. Because I am the only person (living here) upon whom this gift has been bestowed, I cannot, despite my best efforts, pass this on to my humans. They somehow seem to actually repel the knowledge. Maybe it is self-defence. I assume it may be because they would be unable to handle the pressure this would bring, or possibly they might be tempted to abuse this knowledge for evil purposes. So I alone bear this burden – but I regard it as an honour. Because of this power, I am known as Princess Re-cycle-Nurd
I can separate laundry. OK, many of us have this power. But wait for this: I can, at a distance of at least 2 feet, distinguish a red sock in a white-washing load! I know.
And, I can get it out before it goes into the washing machine. This super-power earns me the title: Launderama (it’s not a drama!)-Lady
Finally, I can, with a single bound, transport ‘things-that-live-half-way-up-the-stairs’ to the first floor of the house. Add to this my whirl-wind tidying up powers and I am indeed a mighty force to be reckoned with. For this, I am simply called Stupid.
And yet, despite being so blessed, sometimes I weary of my powers. And I worry that I may be unable to carry on for ever. It’s at times like that – in the lull between a rubbish collection timetable interpretation emergency and a dash to fend off a ‘no hot water’ crisis in down-town Puriton – that my mind idly turns to super-powers I wish I had. Such as:
The power of sleep. I like sleeping, and I can do this. But I cannot
stay asleep. I think this failure is related to the power of:
Emptying the mind. This also totally escapes me. I have no idea what people mean when they say: empty your mind. How? I might as well be urged to take unaided flight or do maths. The instant I am commanded (say, at the end of a yoga class, which I tried 3 times before admitting utter defeat) to empty my mind – and then, by the way –
with a small silk bag filled with dried peas (I assume) over my eyes – encouraged to take an imaginary stroll through a woody glade/warm beach/meadow full of sparkly ponies and fairy-lights, my mind just goes: sod that! and sprints off in all sorts of directions. I did also think, against all the yogic rules, apparently, that the command: empty your mind, was hard to reconcile with the next command, which followed only 2 seconds later, to take the imaginary stroll. Bare foot. Because, if you need to imagine you’re walking along a warm shore-line with a stream of trilling love-birds carrying the hem of your sarong, when in fact you’re lying on a cold, hard gym studio floor, on a mat the depth of an envelope, in frankly too close proximity to a bunch of hard-core yoga lovers, well, you need to use your
mind! So, I can’t damn well empty it, can I? Ahem.
So there I am, listening to the teacher intoning over the wooshy, bendy music, I’m lying down in some discomfort possibly due to the amazingly lengthy periods for we had been encouraged to hold extreme poses such as Deputy Dog or Cats Cradle or something. And my mind is thinking: this silk bag business is weird. And gross. What is its purpose? I wish the lights were on. The lady next to me – I think that may be her hair I can feel on my face…oh God, maybe it’s a spider, it is a spider, I can’t scream…no it
is her hair, phew. No, not ‘phew’, it’s also gross. OK. Calm. Try and take this mind-walk with the others. They can do it, so can you. OK, imagine it
without the others. That’s better. This field…is it the one by the motorway junction in our village? Oh! dental appointment detection super-power memory just kicked in! that’s tomorrow, must write note for Lily’s teacher and…
See? Am I a hopeless case? If you have managed the mind-emptying trick, please help me. I’m begging you. It’s busy in here! I need a break!
Finally that most elusive of all super-powers:
The power of No. You may have Super-No Power for all I know. I wonder what it is like. The power to just say: no. I have tried it, in tiny ways. I either instantly say: I mean yes! or I suffer agonies of guilt. You know in some shops, at the till, they randomly ask you if you’d like a bar of chocolate the size of a single bed to go with the Telegraph? ‘Cos it’s like, half-price? I clearly don’t want the mattress sized chocolate bar, I don’t like chocolate that much (now if it was a duvet sized bag of crisps,
now we’re talking, sister), and yet I really have to force myself to say no. Ditto the requests to take out store cards. I never do but I am wracked with guilt about refusing. God knows why. I am going to practise this super-power. I will start with (politely) refusing to eat things if I don’t want them (but not if I am at someone’s house, obviously).
So if you’d like to offer me some guidance that’d be good. I bet you also have amazing super-powers like mine – share! I know mine are uber-super but don’t be shy! And then – what would you have as a new super-power? (I also want speed-knitting for deadline purposes and a moderator-switch in my brain to stop me sometimes when I get over-excited).
Oh – and happy new year.
I think you should add another super power to the arsenal you already posses – that of Being-able-to-raise-a-chuckle-from-blog-readers-power. Which is awesome. And quite rare.
I share in a number of your super powers but also have Super-Bathroom-Cleaning ability which non of my humans posses. Not sure why but the mysteries of a clean bath, clean loo or indeed an empty bathroom bin escape them. Sensory overload perhaps?
I also have the ability to leave the wheelie bin out on the appropriate day (with handle turned towards the road please). Again I fear that the young adult humans I live with cannot comprehend this.
It is, I think you’ll agree, a heavy burden we bear but those of us with super powers (i.e. women/mothers) must bear our burdens with grace and strength (I’m thinking Mother Russia-type pose here, gazing heroically into the distance).
And a happy New Year to you too. 😉
I too have a super power of which I am rather proud. My humans may pace the house for many days in a sad and lonely quest for a clean towel. But I can locate the towel cupboard and extract the aforesaid item in a matter of seconds ! In future I think I shall call myself Tit-towelia.
Happy New Year, Alison.
Hurray! we are not alone! X
Happy New Year Alison!
I don’t have any super powers at all – I live by myself, well actually I have two mad cats – no really – they are mad – and therefore have to be able to do everything as waiting for someone else to do it means it never gets done – and the cats are proving resistant to any type of training – although they appear to have trained me pretty well!
I agree with the meditation comments – my mind is never empty – and if I try and empty it it fills up with one of three things:
Thoughts on food – whether or not I am hungry….
Thoughts on the strange smell I’ve just noticed, or the draft I’m now in, or the lumpy bit I’ve realised I’m sitting/lying on on the floor
Whether worrying whether your mind is empty constitutes an empty mind or not….
And there was the memorable time I started to snore while lying on the floor meditating at the end of a relaxation class – which gave it away I wasn’t actually meditating at that point….
And then someone gave me the golden way to make it work – don’t try for 20 minutes – try for 2 minutes – as that is 2 minutes more than you have done before – don’t set the bar so high with meditation and then you won’t fail and give up… and now I can manage to meditate for around 5 minutes – in a hundred years I may be up to a full hour….