Being a Passenger

I had a friend ring me drunkenly. This was her opening gambit:

“You, Carrie Armstrong, are one of life’s passengers.”

I proffered my own greeting of “Hello to you too” and let her crack on with her explanation.

Because sober, she is a very smart lady, so I was intruiged to see if she was equally clever as a drunk.

She doesn’t have a drink problem btw, like most of my friends, she is a very occasional drinker.

Anyway, her wine soaked monologue began to take shape.

She explained that I never pushed for anything. That l just got on with what I was doing, and trusted that the right things would arrive on my doorstep at the right time.
She explained that she had watched me on the tube and I didn’t even push past people to run for a train. I just waited until another showed up.

I loved this passenger analogy. Because these days I really am. I don’t talk about what I do. I just do it.

I hate the idea of pushing anything on to folk.

I truly believe they if people need me or require my services, then they will find me.

When I was in hangover mode, all those years ago, I would punish myself by being massively proactive so I wouldn’t feel like I was wasting my whole life drinking.

I was endlessly impatient.

I would apply for tons of new jobs, none of which I would want to interview for, by the time my applications had been processed.

I used to make huge demands in all of my relationships, because if I wasn’t happy it was clearly someone else’s fault. Definitely not my own.

I definitely used to run and push past people on the tube. Probably to be sick in a bin from all the jägerbombs l’d done the night before. 

My friend cannot remember any of this conversation. But she stands by her drunken, forgotten convictions.

And I thought the entire thing was hilarious. And accurate. So I let her call me a passenger when she’s sober too.

I prefer to let my work and my life speak for themselves these days. I either have something you want, or I don’t. 

If you don’t want it, then you won’t find me. If you do, then you will.

That’s why I don’t advertise what I do anywhere. That’s why all of the ladies who find me do so because they’ve been referred to me by a friend.

For me it just works better that way.
I like being a passenger. I like my life to unfold gently and incrementally.

I’m not driven by success. I’m not driven by money. I’m just driven enough so that I don’t have to be the driver.

There are going to be some changes to the site in th next few weeks. But they will be done with a whimper, rather than with a shout.

Because I’m just not that concerned with making a big noise these days.

I’m not saying that everyone who stops drinking suddenly becomes a passive passenger in life.

This was the case with me, that’s all.
Like anything else in non-drinking life, if it feels good to be one of life’s passengers, then work hard on Th things you love to do without pushing it in anyone’s face.

Go about making your own plans for a spot of world domination. Without having to announce it on facebook or what-have-you.

If you are more of a driver? If shouting things from the rooftops feels good to you? Then go for it. Fill your boots. It can do you no harm.

Just make sure your content speaks as loudly as your banter does. Otherwise your words will be just as empty as they were when you were a drinker…


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