Practice

What is one word that describes you?

“You know life is hard,” my mother once told me with resignation in her voice. She continued, “For years, I’ve been struggling. I’m just plain tired now.” I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or herself , but once again I hardly listened. I was grown, I knew everything. I was a fool. Here one day, gone the next, I never got the chance to agree with my mother; that yes, life is hard. Too damn hard sometimes and there are people, put on this earth, who take it as a personal mission/ vendetta to make it even harder for some people. But hey I’m not here to complain.

This year, I made myself the promise to practice certain things, certain ways of being.

One, to quit the complaining as it only drains my energy.

Two, to stop saying to myself and others that time is flying, that time is going so fast, what’s that all about? (But come on, admit it, time is flying. We’re past mid March already!) Yes stop this stating that time is flying malarky as it’s energy sapping.

And three, to get my arse out of bed each morning, go to my creative corner and practice my visual journalling because this shifts/ boosts/ aligns my energy.

Some days I win, some days I lose but I know just like life, like everything really, it’s a practice. It’s about turning up each day for me and not having an agenda, or any idea what I’m going to create or know down which path my attention will flow. I just know that when I practice my visual journaling, intentionally showing up at my desk each morning, I feel better. Simple.

Yes there are all those insightful and wise deductions I could make about this practice and the effects of it on my creativity, life, work, relationship with self and others. But on the most simplest of levels, it makes me feel better. It sets me up to be present for the rest of my day.

Since November 2023, I’ve been practicing this little old practice of getting into my creative corner and creating/ being. Usually in altered books, or homemade junk journals or hand sewn books. Moving my hands to smear paint across a page, adding text and images, and stickers and sometimes even crafting found poems from cut-outs, makes me happy. I can say that now because I’ve had months of this practice under my belt. And I feel better because of it.

The one word that best describes me is ‘practice’ and I get to be me, daily, each morning with my visual journal practice which makes sure I’m myself from each moment to the next for the rest of the day. And for this I am grateful because my mother might not have found the secret and passed it on but I feel as if I’ve stumbled upon what makes this life less difficult, less hard, less soul destroying. Practice.

Keep checking back for the rest of the week as I’ll be sharing a spread each day from my visual journaling practice. And eventually all will be revealed in a new portfolio page around this practice. Thanks for reading. And see you again soon 🙂

This Week

The aim this month was to turn up here everyday and post something; words, images. Anything. Anything that would be used as evidence of my presence. Of my joy and my gratitude.

And now I look and see I’ve missed the last 7 days. And for now I don’t have the energy to go back over this week and pull out the good parts. Or maybe even the bad.

I just know that time is fleeting and speeding. Before we know it, we’ll be in 2024. And I’m not sure I want to waste any more time living in the past.

I’m wanting more and more to live in the present. This is what I’m grateful for; the time and means and ability to live in the present. Live/ love with each day as it comes.

Chopwell Woods

Learning Vulnerability

Tell us about your first day at something — school, work, as a parent, etc.

Longsands, Tynemouth

After Krista O’Reilly-Davi-Digui

Learning to move from head to heart,

moving into greater vulnerability,

everyday feels like the first day.

There is the risk of doing or saying

the wrong thing. Hurting others

as I learn to express myself,

what I want, what I need

makes those close uncomfortable.

And yet,

as I step deeper into fugitivity,

linger in the edges, skin prickly

with expansion. I trust.

Take self-authority and do not hide

from this becoming, this vulnerability.

Offering myself and others grace

and compassion, I walk on, slow,

with heart in hand.

Gratitude for my body

Whitley Bay, 12 December 2023

I’ve spent decades hating on my body.

Too big, too fat, too black for most spaces, places, people. So I thought or was lead to believe.

I’ve spent decades trying to get rid of my body.

Make it smaller, make it thinner, make it whiter. All the time knowing I was wasting my time, energy and money. But that didn’t stop me.

I was hard wired into chasing the perfect body, the ideal standard of beauty. Which just wasn’t me and my body.

Slowly, with care, self-love, mindset changes and practice, I’m learning to appreciate my body and all the spaces and places and people she takes me.

Through my body I get to experience this world and all its terrible beauty. And right now, as that’s all we can depend on/ should focus on/ breathe into, I’m loving on my body from the inside out.

I’m offering her grace and compassion as she continues to move me through this world. Allowing me to be here, {being} myself in all my fucked up glory.

And isn’t that fucking awesome!

Today my body walked me into the sea to remind me to feel again. To remind me I’m alive again. To remind me that we are only here for a short, brief time so shouldn’t we try to squeeze all the feels, sweet and not so sweet, out of it while we’re here?

My body supports me in this mission.

Every. Single. Moment.

Thank you x

Returning to the Highlands

The Glencoe region of Scotland has always held a special place in my heart. When the kids were little, we’d do driving tours up there, jumping from one Premier Inn to another really just to satisfy my own cravings for the Scottish landscape. The wide open spaces, the lochs and glens and mountains.

I created a self-imposed retreat in November when other plans fell through. I took my time to drive into the highlands knowing I was returning to my favourite hotel out there. Kinghouse Hotel, Glencoe.

The plan was simple to rest, walk and create. And I wasn’t disappointed by the scenery, the service, the weather or the creativity.

It was gift to just focus on me and my creativity. A luxury I was truly grateful for. I just want to do it again and again and again.

I fell in love with a mountain and glen up there. So I’ll have to return if we’re going courting!

Buachaille Etive Mòr

Linger

I thought the snow would come and go especially with living by the coast. There’s something in the air, maybe it’s the salt from the sea, which makes snow here a fleeting thing.

But she’s stayed the last few days and has dug in. Fresh snow falling over night. Clinging to roof tops, layer upon layer, creating slippery paths and doorsteps.

But as I’ve said before there is something magical about snow and how it silences the air. Almost like a cocoon is created in the world you’re walking through/{being} within.

So like the child that still lingers inside of me, I’ve been taking joy in the snow lingering and transforming my world into a safe and cosy cocoon away from the harshness of the other world.