I’m sharing this spread created this morning because I’m channeling the love. The love on self. In all my fucked up glory. There is beauty in the messy. Ugly and sweet. And that’s the way it goes ( Janet Jackson style!).
Sometimes, I can feel my energy stagnating. Or being leeched away into activities, projects or circumstances that I want to be in but which if I allow it take me away from what is important to me.
I do great work and I enjoy facilitating/ creating/ coordinating it. Changing lives and bringing joy and opportunities to others, for others.
But sometimes, I have to strengthen my boundaries and batter down the hatches in order to make sure I can show up the best version of myself for myself and others.
The last couple of weeks have found me running low on energy, patience and creativity. I’ve been giving away a lot of myself, time and energy, and focus.
So the next chapter to the end of 2023, is focused on me taking back what’s mine. Taking back my time, my energy, my sparks and directing them in the directions that feed my soul. Which fuels my dreams and confidence in my voice.
And it starts with preparing my next visual journal. I’ve returned to a trusty old faithful. A pink pig sketchbook. And I’ve set up on my kitchen bench with paints and the gift card.
Every time I go into the kitchen, I create a spread. I smear drops of paint across the page with the disused credit card. I can feel my energy, my excitement and joy rising.
This simple act of moving colour across the page fills me with joy, wonder and ideas. My creativity has been lit up again and I’m looking forward to filling these pages.
Looking forward to dreaming on paper.
I fell out of the practice. And feel out of practice too.
Maybe I got complacent. Maybe I got into a funk. Let’s just say for a time there, I found nothing to be grateful for. My glass was half empty, as they say.
And then I had a moment. A moment of realisation. A moment of shaking myself into consciousness. A moment of clarity.
I have a lot in my life to be grateful for. I have an abundance of reasons to be leaning into joy rather than gloom. I’m alive for one and get to choose how I live my life. Duh!
So I’m resurrecting my gratitude practice which I’ve let slide for the last month. I know when I’m practicing gratitude, my outlook on life, my life, all life is much greener. Much more hopeful. Much more honest.
So today I’m grateful for the time and space to laze in bed until I’m ready to get up. I’m grateful for this time and space to listen to my body and rest. I’m grateful today to have a bed to laze and rest in with a roof over my head, protecting me from the rain, from the elements, from the man-made destructive world. Outside. I’m thankful that I can retreat from the world and heal.
Today I’m grateful to have family and friends in my life. I’m grateful to be loving, loveable and loved. Love is the most powerful energy there is and I’m grateful to recognise it when I give and receive it.
It’s been a few days (weeks?) since I’ve been here. And I do hate it when I don’t turn up here because I’m missing out on opportunities for connection, with self and you, at the same time as the longer it goes in between posts the harder it is to get back here.
But I’m back and it was something I wrote on my journal last month that spurred me on to turn up. And I wanted to share it with you as it inspired me to feel better.
And these aren’t my usual activities which I go to to feel better but looking over the list this morning, I can honestly say I’ve been leaning into them the last few weeks without knowing it’s been so. I love when we get the chance to take a step back and reflect and see our journey. I’m so grateful for that.
So what has been making me feel better:
1. Cleaning my space. Be that handbag, bedroom, side table or whole house. I’ve been reaping the rewards of moving my body in cleaning/tidying up and then having the satisfaction of sitting down in a decluttered clear space. It helps the mind to gain clarifying also.
2. Eating something healthy. I’ve been deep in essay writing mode and have been living on toast and crisps and wine! But when I take the time, a break from the grind, to make a salad, or stir-fry and sit and eat mindfully, my body is not only fuelled with the good stuff but I’m resting in a space of joy. I enjoy my food and have the double whammy of knowing I’ve just given myself health.
3. Playing some good music. I’m known to have the tunes blasting in the car, especially as I’m using a friend’s mini convertible. Roof down, tunes high and I’m singing along. But I forget I can do the same within my home. Okay maybe not as loud as when outside. But putting on the mini speaker linked to my Tidal music account, I can move throughout my house listening to the music I love. Music that inspires. Music that I can’t help moving my body to. Music that brings back good memories. And bad. But still manages to get a smile out of me.
4. Lighting a candle. This is a simple act. One I’ve been doing more and more recently as I have candles in every room of my house. I’ve been having them on repeat as I attempt to create a welcoming ambience for anyone viewing the flat. Yes the landlord is selling the flat we’re renting so we have to move. So more people are flowing through the space and having candles glowing is my way of keeping the air clean and scented. It reminds me to take deep breaths and trust that everything is going to turn out for the best. Vanilla, cherry, cinnamon and lavender are my favourites at the moment.
5. Drinking water. Oh my. Now this one is a game changer but I admit I forget it. Daily. Water. I love water inside and out but when I get buried under tasks and emotions, I forget to drink water. That feeling of cold liquid journeying down my throat through my chest to my gut is refreshing, revitalising and a blessing. It only take a moment but still obstacles get in my way. I’m carrying a gallon sized bottle around with me as a means of getting more and enough water. It’s a practice and I’m leaning into it.
6. Sleep a little ( or more). Maybe it’s my age. Menopause. Or the time of year, or my body and mind and soul is just racked with anxious vibes but sleep has been evading me of late. But I’m not going to make it an issue. I’ll take sleep when it comes. And if I can help it, I’ll nap when I feel tired and stay in bed that extra hour if my body calls for it. I rest in other ways too. Be that zoning out in front of the TV, reading or an evening walk. All are a rest from ruminations and allow me to switch off.
7. And finally BREATHE. Yes yes yes. We breathe all the time as it keeps us alive. But how deeply are we breathing? It wasn’t until I picked my meditation practice up again did I realised how long I’m been breathing in the shallows not having the utilising the full capacity of my lungs. Living in the shallows means I’ve been panicking, being on edge, anxious, living on scraps of air when I could have been taking and enjoying big juicy expansive breaths that calm and recalibrate my whole body. I’m breathing deeply. I’m stopping what I’m doing/ being at times to take a few deep breathes. They reoxygenate my body and give me pause for gratitude. Gratitude for being alive in this moment.
I hope you find some inspiration in these practices and try a few. They make me feel better and sometimes we all can do with a reminder of what does make us feel better so we can lean into them more often and more deeply.
to list three things you are grateful for right now!
Right now in this moment I am grateful for:
a good night’s sleep and waking up refreshed.
a day of sunshine and space to create.
the love and support I receive from friends and family and the universe.
While waiting for the shower to run from cold to hot, I think of three things I’m grateful for today:
I’m grateful for CoCo ( mini convertible borrowing from a dear friend) because it got me places I didn’t to get to today. All in one piece.
I’m grateful for the warm oat milk poured over Weetabix, with chilled blueberries and chocolate sauce. Comfort food.
I’m grateful for the chance to see my daughter today as I dropped off a book with her after school before she went on to her dad’s.
“We are not the idea of us, not even the idea that we hold of us. We are us, multiple and varied, becoming. The heterogeneity of us. Blackness in a Black world is everything, which means that it gets to be freed from being any one thing. We are ordinary beauty, Black people, and beauty must be allowed to do its beautiful work.” Kevin Quashie describes in Black Aliveness, or, A Black Poetics of Being.
(Speaking about Robert Lowell’s poetry) “Lowell removes the mask. His speaker is unequivocally himself, and it is hard not to think of Life Studies as a series of personal confidences, rather shameful, that one is honor-bound not to reveal.”
M. L. Rosenthal’s article “Poetry as Confession.”
I’m taking a four week confessional poetry course with midnight & indigo. Founded in 2018, midnight & indigo is a small publisher and literary journal that provides a space for Black women writers to share their narratives with the world.
Tw weeks in and I’m loving the course, Tell Me Something Real: How to Write Confessional Poetry. Not only is the tutor, Schyler Butler knowledgeable, and thorough providing great examples for poetry within this genre all from Black women, but the group of writers signed up for the course bring it every week with their insight and feelings around each poem we read and discuss.
And then we get to trial out what we’ve learnt through these close writings within our own writing, as the sessions finishes with time to write a first draft of a poem and then share it with the group. I’m enjoying what I’m coming up with after being inspired. Because in all honesty, from time I’ve been a confessional poet but have never smashed the term on it.
Confessional poetry in essence can be distilled to 4 main components.
I’m working on a new body of work now. So still in the draft stage but I’ll share a poem from time here, as evidence of my appreciation and dance with this form of poetry.
White Women
Within my family, there are white women.
White women who married black men. I forget,
neglect the fact that their blood flows through mine.
Trace the past, a sea of faceless white is mine.
The black men forefront, a mist of women
behind. Their names, I don’t know or forget.
They are the enigma, shadows. Forget
the cleaning and cooking, their duty and mine,
they went against the grain, steadfast women.
In the corner of the frame, you white women
are not forgotten. Your spirit is mine.
Family Album, 2011
Living Wild Studios 