i ain’t smiling and that makes me smile from the inside out.
there are tasks i want to {BE} and do and there are tasks i do not want to {BE} and do.
leaning into those take that bring me joy is what i {Be} and do today and the next day. and the next.
that’s all a bear can ask for. that’s all i want. and {Be} and do.
i ain’t smiling. but i’m wide arse, teeth shining, smiling for me – on the inside.
i’m protecting my peace so i have the energy for me, to {BE} in service for we, the we that looks/{BE} like me
this is all becoming clearer now
i’m not expending or wasting any more time, energy, attention on those (white) people who do not see me. or when they do see me, they do not see me as human
as Akwugo Emejulu says, the black woman can never be a human being
for decades i’ve spent time, energy, attention, through my practice and day to day life, trying to convince others ( white people) of my humanity. i would bend over backwards trying to get accepted, recognised, cherished as a fellow human being
look, please, i’m human. look, please, i feel, i hurt, i bleed. i breathe
no more. i am no longer prepared to play that role. dance this stupid dance. as i will never be accepted, recognised, loved as a human being. the system won’t allow it. (white) people won’t allow it
i’m no longer wasting my energy on proving jackshit
i’m refusing what has already been refused of me ( fugitivity)
i knowing who i be. i am smart, i am kind, i am important ( The Help). and i don’t need/want/entertain any (white) person to tell/grant/recognise me as such
and i’m no longer apologising/ playing it down or safe/ tempering for how i feel/act/ {BE} about this situation
as that just expends/takes/sucks out of me a whole heap and of other energy
i ain’t smiling.
As the wind rocks us, and the rain soothes us, Kiwi and I enjoy a little excursion.
Hardly little when we drove from our home to Portsmouth and then to Lymington to catch the ferry to the Isle of Wight.
I came here once before with my mum when I was in middle school I think. Or maybe high school. We brought my friend Judith too.
We stayed in a B & B and went to the beach everyday. It was gorgeous. Now looking back, it seems weird going away on holiday with a school friend. But that’s what we’d do back then.
I say weird, but here I am away with my Uni friend Alex and his partner. So go figure.
It’s forecast wind for the weekend and showers. So let’s see how it goes. I’m not complaining because I’m mighty cosy inside Kiwi.
I’m slowing all the way down. Appreciating the time and space, dropping out of time and space for a little while. I’m taking to {BEING} this more and more these days. Figuring out that rest, slow and {BEING} on my own terms is all I ever want in this life.
And I’m not going to given this. I have to take it.
I’ve been in a battle with myself.
The lessons I try and pass on to my kids are not to allow anyone else to change you. You go about your business as yourself. Don’t change for nobody.
I’ve been in a battle with myself.
I know my nature. I smile a lot. I lean into the joy of life because I’ve always said life is too short after being touched by death so young ( I now think life is long but that’s another conversation).
I’ve been in a battle with myself.
I’ve noticed I’m walking out now and not smiling. To myself or others. My face is fixed in a neutral stare, going about my business. I don’t not need/ want to look, speak or touch anyone else.
I’ve been in a battle with myself.
Is it my nature to smile and make contact with other (white) people because that’s who I am? Or do I do it to make them feel comfortable and not to think I’m a threat to their safety? Do I smile because I’m happy? Or do I smile to keep others happy?
I’ve been in a battle with myself.
Through speaking with a ( black female) friend recently things have become clearer and more resolute.
i ain’t smiling.
Not smiling, gazing or connection with (white) people while out walking/ coffee drinking/ shopping/whatever, is me, protecting my peace.
I’ve not been into the sea since the beginning of July. I’ve been staying away, allowing my tooth extraction wound to heal. I didn’t want to get it infected, further or again.
I have missed her, no doubt. I woke early and didn’t give it a second thought. I had the time, the energy and means to get on down there and get in.
It was like starting all over again. The pain of the cold was something I’d forgotten but soon remembered as I inched my way in, allowing the water to seep further and further up my body.
It was worth the pain. It’s always worth the pain.
I feel at peace now as I warm up and give thanks to myself and nature for allowing me this time and space to just {BE}.
For years, I used to travel into Scotland, maybe with work in Dunbar or Edinburgh, and stop off on route at this beach, Thorntonloch Beach.
It’s nothing spectacular, apart from stretching out at the feet of Torness Power Station, but it would be a good place to stop and stretch my legs and calm my spirit.
I remember stopping there on my first trip to Iceland and being all giddy as I watched the waves roll in. That was May 2016.
I say all this because for the last few years and the last few trips across the border, I haven’t stopped and walked this beach.
I do not know why. Maybe I didn’t want to step back into a former Sheree. Maybe I didn’t want the hassle of sand in my toes. Or maybe I just didn’t register why I really used to stop at this beach.
I used to stop at this beach, to just be. To breathe. To be present.
And this time as I skip across the border, I pull over, park up and just be with the beach and sea.
Rest is important to me after a lifetime of hustling and running on empty to be the most productive person alive. All to be loved . All to be accepted. All to be successful on somebody else’s terms.
Not anymore. Nine years ago my eyes were forced open to the system. This grind culture. White Supremacy Culture. This only getting your worth from what you do rather than who you be.
No I no longer buy into that crap.
Rest is paramount for me these days as I’ve realised I cannot fulfil all things I want to do in my pursuit of joy and purpose if I do not take my right amount of rest. If I do not stop and smell the roses and {BE}.
This summer I’m taking an extended rest and the Goddess has come visiting as a result.
The Goddess will be showing up this summer because she can. Because she’s ready. Because she has further things to teach me.
Do you trust your instincts?
I passed through this part of Scotland, Glencoe, the Highlands, last month on my West Highland Way trek.
In the shadow of mountains, the three/ five sisters and Etive, and it was my birthday, I made the promise to myself to return. To retreat here with pen and paper and see what materialises.
I’m here. And just being. Walking and filling my soul. And {BE}. I followed my instincts which was calling out for this space of nothingness.
For this soft place to land to tend my brokenness.
Thank you.
There are only a couple pages left in this altered book journal of May.
The month seems to have gone by fast. I know I’ll complete this journal tomorrow.
I’m ready to move onto a bigger journal now. I can feel it. It’s my intuition calling for more space I feel.
I’ve already started prepping some pages in an A4 journal with paper that’s like newsprint paper. An unfinished kind of feel, off-white, rough and a bit shiny at the same time. It reminds me of the large sheets of paper the teachers used to put down to protect the tables before we got out the paints for art lessons/ play.
Already I’m envisioning what the pages within this journal will feel like when I’m working on them and when I finish a spread.
This is what happens really. Having one foot in my current journal honouring the process. And one foot in the next journal, shifting energies, feeling the pull and excitement of the open pages ahead. Getting ready for the next journey and where it will lead.
There’s no doubt when I finish one journal that there will be the next. A next one. This isn’t something that I can end if I even wanted to.
Visual Journaling is my life. It keeps me rooted in my life, the ups and downs, the backwards and forwards. Where ever it may lead, visual journaling is there holding my hand, guiding me at the same time as catching me when I fall.
And fall I will. And this might be when I feel the need to give up the most but this might be also when I need this practice the most.
I’ve spent this past month, opening up my journaling pages to this space in the hope of inspiring others; for you to take up the practice. At the same time as allowing myself the space to explore what makes this practice tick. The attempt to explore/ unearth/ pin down where it’s magic lies.
Of course, I’ve not achieved this. I’ve just thrown up more questions than answers. But in all honesty, I don’t know if I want to fully comprehend it’s magic. I’m not sure I really want to unravel the mystery around visual journaling, around creativity itself.
As where would the fun be in that? Or the point? As would it help me complete it better? Would it help me achieve more?To succeed?
I don’t practice visual journaling to succeed. To become better at it. To crack the code and achieve more.
I practice visual journaling because it makes me feel (better).
I practice visual journal because it supports me being me. {BE}.
I practice visual journal because it supports me to {BE}.
Living Wild Studios 