A Stumble In The Right Direction

My brain wasn't feeling notably creative or alert that day. Nor was I feeling particularly strong, and the door was somewhat heavy. I couldn't tell you what made me walk in to that little place, but I'm glad I did. 

Before me were a small collection of pretty swell people.

Like-minded. Big beliefs. Radical characters.

They held their own.

Their art was miraculous, and it glowed.

Their presence was strong, but oh so gentle.

They were the kind of people you put your phone away for.

As I enjoyed the company (and too many coffees), a wave of complete calm washed over me. Without warning I had become overwhelmingly mindful and steady.

Believe me, it was a mighty wave.

Nothing felt like it really mattered any more.

The nonsense and empty conversations that were surely waiting for me at home began to seem so much more manageable.

Every word uttered was soft. It felt easy.

Breathe in no and breathe out yes.

I became so acutely aware of every word. Every pronunciation. Every prolonged 'S' and every missed 'T'.

Any one of them could have declared the world was on its last legs and I wouldn't have winced - I was sure no one else would make it sound so sweet.

The more they spoke and the more I listened, I began to realise they were much like many others I already knew. This didn't destroy anything, not the awe, wonder or the admiration that had grown. It shattered no illusions, I still felt safe.

It was all the more powerful. All the more spectacular.

They were average people, with above average ideas.

When my time came to leave, highly caffeinated with a mind well fed, the door was even harder to open. 

Except this time, it was for all the right reasons.

❊

On Stress, Abandon & Everything In Between

That's the thing no one really braces you for. Or maybe they do, but it doesn't really make sense until you're neck-deep in shit, is that stress is not just one layer thick.

Excuse the Shrek reference, but it's like an onion.

It goes on and on, yes in slow succession, still, don't doubt its strength.

Sounds agonising, doesn't it?

That's another thing, it's not, entirely.

Don't declare me a fool just yet. I know, it can be remarkably uncomfortable. And I would always advise that you don't make it home.

The more I grow, the more I believe that it's important, as human beings, to acknowledge that discomfort, and sit with it, comfortably.

And stress?

Well, stress can be pretty useful. It helps us decide what is worth that treacherous discomfort, and what is not.

And some things really aren't worth it.

I spent eight months bracing myself for battle each morning. 8am, sharp.

And each morning, I felt my body tense with an arrogant fear. And that fear, that stress, well, there wasn't any damn value in it.

It didn't make me better.

It didn't make me stronger.

It was to be survived.

And while there was a speck of value in biding my time, there was a whole heap more in leaving.

And leave I did. I abandoned it.

I left because ultimately, I believed in greater things.

That's the other loop hole that's easy to miss.

The truly spectacular process of discovering what you believe in.

There are things I believe in.

Whole-heartedly, without question, without fear.

Beliefs that shake me.

They're mostly simple, but the beauty of simple is that often, it aligns with stress evolving.

That shiver becomes something quite magic.

For me, on occasion, sitting down to write is the scariest thing to face - in fact, I've spent the better part of the last few months avoiding it.

Equally, it is the most important thing I know to do.

It moves me forward, makes me better, stronger.

It is a belief I manifest.

It is worth every ounce of stress, fear and bone-shaking awe.

And that is entirely the point.

❊

An Air Of Mystery

I'd be lying if I said panic hadn't set in by the fifth day.

The fifth day of silence and discomfort.

The fifth day of the sun casting auburn highlights across the clouds.

The cold is setting in, with an uneasy breeze.

~

It's important I document this. Though it's slightly uncomfortable and my heart aches. It is important.

It's important because it's a lesson. And (I hope) I have learnt from it.

What a strange situation to arise at this time in my life.

By now, I am aware of the warning signs. 

A lack of creativity. A sense of abandonment. 

And becoming isolated in a little bubble. And often, I forget bubbles are fragile.

It's fantastic to shelter myself in metaphors. It's brilliant to hide in mysterious words and quiet thoughts.

It comes at a detriment, to the safety of my bubble.

To never specify saves me, my dignity and my sanity.

(Though I'm not too sure what's left of the three).

If you asked me how I knew, I'd say, "I'm lucky to see my neurotic side, even through the greyest of clouds. And I'm lucky to recognise the stabbing pain that sprints through my veins at the first sight of trouble."

And if you read this as I do, and am doing at this moment, you've most likely realised there is no conclusion.

There seems to be no middle or end either.

That's because it doesn't end.

My thoughts don't end. My small epiphanies (usually found whilst pursuing the supermarket) rarely cease.

And my learning, well, that will always run faster than I can.

❊

Forecast

It's cold. And silly me is sat outside.

I'm writing outside today, with my notebook perched on crossed legs and my pen soon to run dry because I'm hoping to write about the sky and what it may hold.

12℃ isn't too cold, but I feel my body is still acclimatised to the warmth of a summer spent in Italy.

I yearn for it. 

To do it all over again. 

Longer days and warmer nights. 

Anonymity when I needed it. 

An array of wine just waiting to be picked from the shelves before my eyes. 

The blue sky that roofs my troubled head speaks otherwise. It shines a soft turquoise, reminding me that winter beckons.

There are ripe, dark clouds balancing above. Fiercely mastering the tango between one another.

Prompt and ready to erupt. 

They howl the warning of a storm. On land. Over sea. And in my mind.

I sense there's difficulty to come.

As the storm roars around me calmness will be key.

And patience is a necessity. Patience that runs through my veins can't be left short.

When the evening arrives, I must remember that it is the devil's hour. And he will reek havoc.

I have to wait until morning to reveal myself again. I will wait until morning to observe and participate amongst the sky once more.

And so it will start again.

Watching and waiting, with patience, as the sky dances around me. 

❊

This Week #19 | New Beginnings

I have the opportunity now, the opportunity to grow, see more, do more, be happier.

I suppose, for the most part, this is an opportunity we all have, constantly. It's only after a new beginning, a new chance has blossomed that I really feel it. I can now see the open space, the time and the opportunity.

It's important that I'm scared. And it's important that I acknowledge this feeling and let it gently pass me by with the wind.
I am no weaker for feeling scared.

Standing with two feet on the ground and my head in clouds is feasible - tricky, but feasible.

It's time to be strong. It's time to knock 'em dead.

❊

This Week #18 | Finally

Walking home from work just as the sun was setting made everything just that little bit brighter, that little bit easier and that little bit sweeter.

❊

This Week #17 | The Weight Of Love

Okay, so I may have used a Black Key's song as the title for this post. But hey, it feels right.

If you'd asked me at the beginning of the week what I am sure of, my reply would have been meek and fickle. Filled with little certainty and an abundance of disdain.

I've been questioning a lot of what surrounds me and it's done little but place seeds of doubt in my mind. And we all know doubt is a seed that doesn't need much attention to grow.

I'd been thinking I was around the wrong people, doing the wrong thing, seeing the wrong view.

My place was something I couldn't see.

I felt heavy with the weight of love. My headspace had been sacrificed to what I knew and what I assumed to be balanced.

It wasn't until later in the week, after seeing a few old, but familiar, faces I realised that where I am, the people that surround me, what I'm doing is balanced and right for me.

-

A weed tried to grow next to my tree of doubt this week, it tried to change my mind, it was working against me and working with the tree.

But the two can't live peacefully. They can't survive. The garden will rot and eventually burn out.

So I decided to cut them both. The branches, the trunk, the roots.

New ground has been laid. It's vibrant and ready to home greater ideas, feelings, muses.

It's right because I can't be everything to everyone, I can't be everywhere, see everything in one go.

It's right because when the weight of love becomes to much, you have to cut a few branches, plant some stronger seeds.

When the weight of love becomes heavy, you must let go.

❊

This Week #16 | This Moment

I have few words left flowing through me now.

It's late. I'm tired. My bed is warm and tomorrow is looming.

I can't be sure of many things in this life. The good comes and go, as does the bad. This comforts me.

But I know that in this quiet moment, as I sit with damp hair and a mug of tea beside me, I know, I am sure of right now. Of this moment.

And life will iron out adequately; I will grow and life will develop.

I know I will wake up tomorrow feeling less tired and more full than I do in this moment. I know that my hair will dry and tea will be quietly enjoyed.

And I know that these words and this protected moment are the few things that make it all a bearable.

❊

This Week #15 | Accepting Change

This week made me realise something I hadn't really considered before.

We, as humans, seem to accept the strangest changes the easiest.

Think of all your baby teeth. Well those, they no longer belong to you.

They now belong to the elusive tooth fairy.

You so willingly allowed them to leap from your mouth to underneath your pillow.

No further explanation was needed for it to all make sense. You accepted it for what it was; becoming, growing.

The strangest of change that we all so wholeheartedly latched on to.

I need to remember this.

I need to remember this when the change I am faced with doesn't seem clear. When even simple day-to-day transforms prompt me to question the idea.

Why must the sun set?

It must set because it needs rest, just as I do.

It must set so the moon can glow, just as I shall.

The sun must set so the tooth fairy may begin her shift.

❊

This Week #14 | You'll Get There

Following on from Monday's post, I appear to have lost my balance. Suddenly and all at once.
It's taken nearly a week of really messed up sleep and endless work for me to realise things aren't quite right. I can't quite pinpoint what's triggered it - aside from the lack of sense in my brain - but I know I've lost that bubble in my spirit level. It's either fallen dramatically left, or dramatically right. Neither of which I particularly like the sound of.

This loss of balance has made me realise why I write. Why I tell stories. Why I jump at the chance to read my favourite part of Catcher in the Rye to a dear friend. Why my hands are always less jittery when I'm holding a pen or stabbing (more aggressively than needed) at the keys on my laptop.

It's my release. I'm filling the hole. We're all filling a hole. And it was a recent conversation with a close friend that reiterated this to me. Everyone fills their hole with something; running, smoking, drinking, shopping, working, taking hour long baths and eating sweetcorn from the tin. These tiny victories gives us a simple satisfaction that we lose when we forget that the opinions of others are just that, opinions.

So here it is, why I write.

I write to meditate and soothe. To cast wholesome feelings on to those who have lost their way a little. To romanticise about how I hope I am perceived. To share secrets I cannot utter aloud. To feel even the tiniest connection to the people I wish for. To be better, more creative and grounded. 

I write because sometimes all I have in me are the few words I scribble on paper. 

I write because when someone tells you you lack direction, you show them that you can conquer every direction you see.

❊

This Week #13 | Human After All

I guess you could say I've lost my head a few times this week. There's a sense that things are slipping and I'm holding on to the weakest cracks.

That's how I originally started this post. 

And then I remembered the amount of times things like:

"If you think bad, it will be bad."

"Get some sleep, stop worrying."

"I'm here because I want to be."

have been said to me this week. They mean as much as the person that said them. As much as they care for me and as much as I care for them.

Life will only be as bad as I think it to be. And from now on, it will be damn sweet.

❊

This Week #12 | How Are You?

Overwhelmed. Overwhelmed that I am here. Writing, self meditating, filling a void that has only been creeping up on the thoughts I assumed were long gone. It’s the good kind of overwhelmed. Quietly overwhelmed. And this is okay. It’s not dramatic and it’s not quite heart wrenching. I can still breathe.

I’m overwhelmed that the people around me are inexplicably tolerant and loving of my flaws and needs, though different to their's they remain justified - simply because I feel them.

And when your dearest friend sits across from you in a small coffee shop and tells you how envious she is of the life you lead, driving, photographing views she only sees from her window, believe her. She’s exploring too, seeing different things and learning. And she is happy. And she lives surrounded by light and love, and she knows it. Yet part of her still longs for what you have, she still believes it to be tangible.

There is a lesson in this. Be open to it.

Perhaps everything that has just happened is an invitation to a new adventure. 

All adventure requires is curiosity. And curiosity, I have in abundance. 

❊

This Week #11 | Seeking The Positive

It's Sunday. And I'm still here. Beat and a little bruised, but nonetheless I am here.

Long drives with blissful, high views kept me sane and grounded. The kind of seats that give you nosebleeds. I was wrapped in a duvet of thick sky and icy wind, with nothing but my camera to capture it all. 

Sometimes I think of how I’ll describe these moments in my life, when I am fortunate enough to look back.

"It was beautiful."

"You'd have loved it."

"Oh I wish I could have stayed a little longer."

"I was happy in that moment because you were too."

I suppose what gets me most is falling exhausted in to bed dreaming dreams not so different to the days I'm living. 

That has to be a life well-spent, doesn't it?

❊

This Week #10 | Planning Epiphanies

I'm going to cheat a little for this post and that's mostly because it's been a storm recently, the kind of the storm that shakes you up, leaves you feeling a little defeated and then washes an abundance of goodness over you.

Just over a week in and adulthood is treating me pretty well - I have few complaints. If it's taught me anything so far it's this:

• I am beyond blessed
• Photos are important
• Some people will always be bitter
• Friends that you can consider family are well worth keeping
• A lot of people know me better than I thought
• Worrying is a time waster
• Wine is lethal but croissants are comforting

This year has been stellar and there's still a few months to go. Big things are coming up soon. I've got money to save, plans to make, photos to take, songs to dance to and people to love. No amount of worrying, winter demons or negativity will stand in the way. It's time now and I'm going to triumph.

❊

This Week #9 | The Wales Edition

By now, my hair mostly consists of the sea and (far too much) dry shampoo. I say that likes it's a bad thing but secretly I'd love to be able to rock a head of dreadlocks. If the unwashed delight that is my hair didn't make this week sound enticing enough I somehow managed to make a six hour journey to Wales turn into 12. Holy moly, me and trains (and now my bank account too) are not the best of friends right now.

The state of my hair and a certain mode of transport became more than bearable when the charming views that graced my eye line were out in abundance this week. I don't think I've been more stuck for decent words to use, there's little that can describe what I saw.

If there's one thing that makes me feel calmer, purer and more whole than anything else it's sea air. It's healing and beautiful and full of all the good stuff you could ever need. The sea has a tendency to fill me with longing, though for what I can't be sure. It wraps me up in a whirlwind of encouragement and new life. Life feels a little easier by the sea.

A week surrounded by the most healing kind of people, food, air, laughter, music has given my soul a whole heap of rest-bite. It tops anything I could have wished for and is only reconfirming that I'm nowhere near ready for this summer to end. I'd do it all again in a flash. With the same people, the same stupid (but bearable) jokes, except, maybe a shorter train ride!

This week's teaching: "Travel teaches toleration."

❊

My Week In Numbers #2

2 - bars of petrol left in my tank. How have I driven that much recently?! After this week, I'm considering moving to Venezuela, it's only 2/3p per litre of petrol there!

14 - hours of sleep I've missed out on and am definitely craving.

7 - runs completed since Monday. Damn, it feels good!

6 - minutes of genius I can't get enough of.

450 - photos to edit by the middle of next week.

32 - days until I turn 18. Holy moly, that does not feel real.

2 - losing scratch cards. Boo!

1 - week until Iss is home and I am calm.

4 - nights of conversations and laughter. And I am so thankful for those and the people that allow them to happen.

5 - punches of much needed encouragement and tough love.

10 - minutes on the phone to Max; absorbing camera knowledge and wishing for my sibling to be closer.

❊

This Week #8

There's little rhyme or rhythm to this week. Or this post. It's a jumble and mostly a reflection of the state my head is in. I know 'state' sounds a little negative, but actually I'm feeling at ease and have done for a healthy sum of the week.

If this week has enlightened me about anything it's that I have pretty much no filter on the words that spill from my mouth after around 9pm. Realistically, it's not like I have much of a filter before that but you get the idea. I've found myself talking a lot lately, and not about all that much really. There's the odd person that can tolerate it and will (I hope) happily listen to me ramble about little of concern while they cook, drive, shop. The point of this is that it's bloody lucky that I'm yet to find myself being punched in the face for excessive talking and laughing.

Most importantly, the gross feeling that came after consuming half a litre of frozen yoghurt at 10pm, in a car park with Paolo Nutini playing louder than necessary was definitely worth it. If you asked me why I probably couldn't give you an exact reason, I reckon I was just super content and calm in that half an hour.

This week's teaching: "We all put our trousers on one leg at a time."

❊

This Week #7

I'm not really sure about this week. It's kind of been a mixed bag (I say that nearly every time I write this post but hey, at least I'm consistent)!

If saner heads hadn't prevailed I'd probably be huddled in a corner, weeping. Alas, I've just about managed to keep it together.

The 'Go it Alone' thing happened on Tuesday. It was weird. But surprisingly, less daunting than first expected. Although, I'm glad it was early in the week because my head had been going non-stop crazy during the build up. I didn't and don't yet feel a sense of relief; or even grief for that matter, I'm just manically peaceful. Most likely it'll take me a few days to a week to realise what's actually happened and what's going to happen and I reckon when it hits I'll find a little hideaway and just be still.

Bar a few (more) car mishaps, an attempt to find solidarity at the bottom of (three) beer bottles and extremely long walks home it's probably been one of my calmer weeks. And that is saying something because there's a lot I can't condense for this post. I like the idea of writing it all down, documenting it here, on paper, in photos. Then, at the same time I like my little private thoughts and memories. So really, I could be writing about the normality and routine of my week whilst sat in the Sahara Dessert - unlikely as the WiFi is probably terrible, but you get the idea, my week could have been wild and completely illegal and you wouldn't know because I haven't typed it here.

I actually wrote this in the early hours of this morning, with most of my friends asleep (on floor) in the room next door. It can be a little romanticised and fickle sometimes, but I love it. And I still don't know whether to laugh or cringe at the amount of times "This is so Skins" has been said in the last week.

Someone tell me how I scored this lot. 

My laughter generators at 2am when I have to be up at six.

❊

Currently...

Drinking: copious amounts of hot water and lemon.
Wanting: a little headspace.
Looking: at flights. I'm tempted, really tempted.
Deciding: my next move.
Enjoying: fair weather and the smiles it brings.
Waiting: for bigger things.
Pondering: what I should have for dinner, avocado or avocado? They're just so good!
Considering: if I'm ready to turn 18 in a few months... probably not.
Reading: The Catcher In The Rye - it's just as good the sixth time round.
Hoping: for some guidance.
Wearing: a beautiful vintage kimono that I picked up for just £20.
Noting: all my ideas, desk space is quickly diminishing.
Admiring: beautiful cameras, I'll take them all, please.
Sorting: through all the clothes that need washing... before I go away in around twelve hours.
Getting: worked up too easily - I need to figure that one out.
Realising: there are some things I can't alter, and that's okay.
Planning: very little. My head is packed with stuff already.

❊

This Week #6

Let's just get one thing clear, after this week, I do not like lamp posts... and neither does my car.

Luckily it was only the back bumper - and my bank account - that suffered a blow.

All car sorrow was drowned in a few too many gin & tonics this weekend. We played a lot of cards, listened to a lot of Elvis and busted quite a few embarrassing moves.

I'm still trying to figure how I managed to eat an ice cream, break the bathroom door and attempt to change a lightbulb in those few hours but it happened and it was ace.

The power of gin, right?

This week's teaching: "Good friends let you eat dairy."

❊