Tag: personal growth

Taking Stock: November

Annette12 Comments

Hello lovely people,

In the creative footsteps of blogger, author, teacher, crafter and all round nice lady Pip Lincolne, it’s time to take stock: 

Making myself comfy on the couch. 

Cooking eggplant bacon. There’s a batch in the oven right now!

 

Drinking coffee. This morning’s crema reminded me of constellations. 

Reading books about heart failure and the Mediterranean diet, so I can better understand and manage my health. 

Wanting to keep up my new habit of walking for my health. 

Looking up. The sky is my shield and comfort. 

Playing the new Taylor Swift album. I am loving the evolution of her musicianship.  

Deciding what I’m going to eat this week. Organisation is key to my low salt life. 

Wishing it was a long weekend. I love them. 

Enjoying pulling on my leafy leggings and sneaks and going for a walk, mostly. We’ll see if I make it out there today. 

Waiting for summer holidays. 

Liking myself, my family, my heart shield, this life. 

Wondering about how I might feel if I need to get a pacemaker. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. 

Loving the encouraging, supportive, generous, big hearted people in my life. You’re my oxygen. 

Pondering why I’m not blogging, sketching or painting much lately. 

Considering leaning more heavily into a Mediterranean style of eating. Bring on the ancient grains and pomegranates. 

Buying a new vacuum cleaner online. It’s a glamorous life!! 

Watching Bar Rescue, lots of Jamie Oliver, clouds. 

Hoping to continue feeling and being as well as I can. Combining that hope with everyday action is the key. 

Marvelling at the power of encouraging words. I know how much I need them, and need to give them. 

Cringing at the coarse vanity and stupidity of politicians, clinging to power by any means possible. Their inhumanity to those they perceive as unimportant to their cause is endlessly staggering. 

Needing to keep on keeping on, and get rid of some stuff. Less is better. 

Questioning why I felt such shame around being prescribed antidepressants. Stigma sucks. 

Smelling eggplant bacon.

Wearing my pjs. Comfort rules on the weekends, heck, comfort always always rules. 

Following my heart’s lead; inspiring people; a slow road. 

Noticing how vividly green the trees are against the sky. 

Knowing everything is cyclical. 

Thinking of ways to find balance. 

Admiring people who accept, embrace and celebrate themselves. Coming home to yourself is the ultimate pilgrimage. Are you on that road? I hope so. 

Getting philosophical. It always happens when I take stock, which is why it’s such a worthwhile practice. 

Book borrowing and buying. I want to spend more time reading. 

Coveting nothing. I don’t need more than I have. 

Disliking having to think about how much I drink every day, whether I’ve taken my tablets, and all that jazz. 

Opening myself to new ways of thinking and being. 

Feeling good. Life has challenges and great beauty. It is a privilege to be here. 

Snacking on hummus again. I finally found a great low sodium recipe! 

Hearing Taylor Swift sing, and feeling relaxed. 

That’s the state of play in my world. Reflecting on where we’re at, what we want and who we are is such a valuable way to check in with what truly matters. I highly recommend it! 

If you’d like to take stock, just copy and paste this list to your Facebook page/journal/blog or use the prompts in your creative practice. 

Making :
Cooking :
Drinking :
Reading:
Wanting:
Looking:
Playing:
Deciding:
Wishing:
Enjoying:
Waiting:
Liking:
Wondering:
Loving:
Pondering:
Considering:
Buying:
Watching:
Hoping:
Marvelling:
Cringing:
Needing:
Questioning:
Smelling:
Wearing:
Following:
Noticing:
Knowing:
Thinking:
Admiring:
Sorting:
Getting:
Bookmarking:
Coveting:
Disliking:
Opening:
Giggling:
Feeling:
Snacking:

Take care of yourselves, and each other. 

Annette x 

Unyielding

Annette8 Comments

Recently, I wrote about receiving a sign, and about yielding. You can catch up on that post here.

 

What I’ve realised since then is that though I may be willing to acknowledge the sign in the sky, and though I feel broadly clued in to what the sign points to, I am well and truly stuck as far as my desire to do the work of yielding to it. 


There are boulders in the way, I rolled some of them there. I’m good at that. It’s a protection mechanism. A lifelong habit. 


Yielding is hard work. 


Hard. Hard. Hard. Yukky, uncomfortable, revealing, vulnerability making work. Ugh. RUN FOR YOUR LIFE in the opposite direction kind of work! 


Too big, and too hard for me right now. 


The way I’m wired is deliciously contradictory, because I find myself wanting to simultaneously gather myself up in a protective embrace, and whisper words of encouragement to my heart (gentle voice #1), as well as wanting to viciously berate myself, shame myself, and ridicule my inability to just yield and get the fuck on with things (harsh voice #2). 


So I search for balance, and it is deeply uncomfortable at times. I know that I *could* be doing more to get myself unstuck, but I also know that if I push myself because of voice #2, the harsh taskmaster that still occasionally pipes up and causes me grief, the whole damn house of cards (not really, but it’s a great metaphor) will come tumbling down.


So, I yield, for now, to being unyielding.


I breathe.


I strain my being to listen to voice #1 as she offers me compassion and patience.


And in that way, I yield more deeply, ever so incrementally. I yield to compassion towards myself. Again.


In this place, where the movement towards choosing to yield is imperceptibly slow, and sometimes just a dream, I must find my light. I must stand resolutely in it. I must, must, must continue to look up. I must resist voice #2, actively. 

 


I may never stop learning this primal lesson, these first tiny steps, the initial dance of, I see you sign, and I read you, but I will go NO further… knowing that eventually I will most likely yield a little more, allow a little more of the light I stand in to permeate my inner world, because I want to live purposefully. I want to know myself more deeply. I want to be increasingly free. I do. 


I just wanted to tell someone that. 

 

I am unyielding, but I am not dead yet. 


I am unfinished, and though I may not have the courage to do the work today, or tomorrow, I can celebrate all that’s behind me, all the lessons, all the victories, and I know how very far I’ve come. 


Here I am. 

 

Chin up. Head tilted back. Standing in my light.  

 

Are you standing in yours? 

 

 

 

Annette x 

 

 

 

Deciduous Heart

Annette17 Comments

2016-04-11 13.02.25-1

I think I have a deciduous heart.

According to Wikipedia, deciduous means “falling off at maturity” or “tending to fall off”, and it is typically used in order to refer to trees or shrubs that lose their leaves seasonally (most commonly during autumn) and to the shedding of other plant structures such as petals after flowering or fruit when ripe. In a more general sense, deciduous means “the dropping of a part that is no longer needed” or “falling away after its purpose is finished”. In plants it is the result of natural processes.

Hmmm. I might just have to stop and read that again.

The dropping of a part that is no longer needed.

Falling away after its purpose is finished.

That’s got to be about more than just leaves, right? That’s got to be about the soul too. Maybe it’s a deciduous soul thing, rather than a deciduous heart thing. Whatever it is, it’s a metaphor I can dig.

Maybe this is what #theviewfrom48 is all about? I wrote about the view here and even though I haven’t written much more about it, I have been thinking a lot about the where, why, who and what of being me. That’s nothing new for me, it’s a theme I return to often, and gladly.

It feels right for me to regularly take stock, because I think it serves me well to be mindful about my life, to look at what’s working, what is no longer needed, and to observe what’s fallen away.

Change can be so incremental that you barely notice it, and it can sometimes feel immensely unexpected and violent, leaving you reeling. I’ve known both types of change.

The things that I have let go off, that have fallen away, are as important, if not more important, than the things I’ve collected and added over the years.

I’ve let go of fears – that I wasn’t enough, that I was broken, that I was damaged goods.

I’ve let go of the idea that another person can complete me.

I have let concern about what others say about me fall away.

I have joyfully let go of living by others’ expectations.

I’ve shed plenty of leaves, heck, I’ve dropped branches.

And the falling leaves are beautiful. And the branches make great firewood.

Living isn’t about what we’re sold, or what we accumulate.

It’s about growing, and it is about letting go.

I’m growing.

I’m letting go.

2015-11-09 13.21.37-2

That’s the thing with seasons, they don’t just happen out there, in nature.

They happen to us, in us. We all experience seasons of ease, of change, of growth, of barrenness, of renewal.

I think the thing I’ve learned is not to fight that. I’m still learning that.

That’s the beauty of having a deciduous heart.

Autumn leaves aren’t afraid to fall.

I don’t want to be afraid to fall either.

I’m going to keep looking up,

Annette x