I've had one of those moments this week when I've had to do some quite deep self analysis. It's not something I'm very fond of doing because the reflection staring back at me usually has something quite damning to say, but hey, I guess we're all our own worst critics.
But this week I realised how I really struggle when I'm not in my own bubble, in control of my day, my routine and having the next week planned out in my head. You see, with having a long distance relationship, three mad girls to look after, a house and a job, there are at least three trains of thought going on in my head at any one time - if not, more. Most of the time it just works, I'm in my own space, my brain goes over what's happening the next day or so before I go to sleep and the equilibrium is contained.
But I realise, much to my horror, that when I'm not in my own space, when perhaps someone else is calling those shots and can change the plan at the drop of a hat, my brain goes into meltdown and I really struggle to find the balance in my own mind again.
But what is absolutely ridiculous is the emotional reaction this generates in me...I'm actually quite ashamed of it.
Usually, the cause is not really anything that affects my world that dramatically. But I'm honestly quite scared by my own need for control, even if it's only internal and not about controlling people around me. My own brain screams "But you didn't tell me that! What am i meant to do with the virtual timeline in my head now, how do I restore the equilibrium?!?" Sometimes it screams in the voice of a petulant child, that really is disturbing!
To be fair, when this happened this week I was completely outside of my own space and although I sort of think that should mean it matters less but I think it was all just a bit overwhelming.
But I don't want to be a control freak, even in my own head. While my world requires organisation, forward planning and strategy just to get the girls to school on time, I really don't want this need to have the day so strictly planned out to turn me into a monster of inflexibility and stroppiness when it doesn't go the way I had intended!
I really need to work on this...
Saturday, 13 August 2016
Sunday, 12 June 2016
A wonderful, unexpected gift.
It was my birthday over the weekend. It usually completely overshadow by the fact that my oldest warrior princess was born the day before my birthday and most of my energy is channeled straight into presents, party and cake for her. Usually I wake up on my birthday and think "Oh yeah, it's my birthday!"
So I hadn't really thought much about it. But I know that my lovely man is especially good at buying me gifts. You see, without meaning to gloat, he listens to me. I am incredibly blessed to be in love with a man who actually pays attention when I'm rambling on about things that he doesn't have much interest in or knowledge about.
If you know me, it takes a lot to render me speechless, I can talk the hind leg of a donkey. But he managed that just with one birthday present.
About a year ago I told him about a book I had borrowed from a lovely artist friend of mine. It is an incredible book. It's called The Art of Colour by Johannes Itten and it is the most beautifully captivating book about physics I have ever laid eyes on. It's essentially poetic, which appeals massively to my love of words, and it explains so much about the way we experience colour. My friend had acquired this book quite a few years ago and it was an expensive book then. It's also now out of print. Even a Kindle version of the book is about £85, which for an e-book just seems a little ridiculous.
But my crazy, lovely, incredible man listened. He heard my passion and he remembered.
And he found me a second hand copy of that book that I love so much. It's sitting carefully in my bookshelf, away from my girls mucky fingers, loved and cherished. You see, while I love this book and it's incredibly useful with all kinds of knowledge contained in it's pages, it's not just the book itself that rendered me speechless.
It was the thought behind it. I have found so much healing in being heard, realising that he listens to me...even when I'm rambling about random stuff and especially when all I'm doing is processing the thoughts in my head out loud. It's not what most of my experience has taught me. His love and thoughtfulness left completely speechless on my birthday and it touched my heart so very deeply.
I'm resolving to try to do that more, to listen deeply, to try and hear the words unsaid by those around me. To convey the sense of "I hear you, I hear your heart" even when some of those words go unspoken. I have a lot to learn, but I see a wonderful example of what can be achieved when I look at my lovely man.
So I hadn't really thought much about it. But I know that my lovely man is especially good at buying me gifts. You see, without meaning to gloat, he listens to me. I am incredibly blessed to be in love with a man who actually pays attention when I'm rambling on about things that he doesn't have much interest in or knowledge about.
If you know me, it takes a lot to render me speechless, I can talk the hind leg of a donkey. But he managed that just with one birthday present.
About a year ago I told him about a book I had borrowed from a lovely artist friend of mine. It is an incredible book. It's called The Art of Colour by Johannes Itten and it is the most beautifully captivating book about physics I have ever laid eyes on. It's essentially poetic, which appeals massively to my love of words, and it explains so much about the way we experience colour. My friend had acquired this book quite a few years ago and it was an expensive book then. It's also now out of print. Even a Kindle version of the book is about £85, which for an e-book just seems a little ridiculous.
But my crazy, lovely, incredible man listened. He heard my passion and he remembered.
And he found me a second hand copy of that book that I love so much. It's sitting carefully in my bookshelf, away from my girls mucky fingers, loved and cherished. You see, while I love this book and it's incredibly useful with all kinds of knowledge contained in it's pages, it's not just the book itself that rendered me speechless.
It was the thought behind it. I have found so much healing in being heard, realising that he listens to me...even when I'm rambling about random stuff and especially when all I'm doing is processing the thoughts in my head out loud. It's not what most of my experience has taught me. His love and thoughtfulness left completely speechless on my birthday and it touched my heart so very deeply.
I'm resolving to try to do that more, to listen deeply, to try and hear the words unsaid by those around me. To convey the sense of "I hear you, I hear your heart" even when some of those words go unspoken. I have a lot to learn, but I see a wonderful example of what can be achieved when I look at my lovely man.
Tuesday, 7 June 2016
Not giving in to fear.
I had a discussion with a fellow blogging friend of mine a while ago in which we observed that I have a tendency to write when I'm wound up.
Well, sorry folks...today is no exception.
I won't go into too much detail because, for a start I don't have all of them and secondly, I want to protect my daughter.
But suffice to say that today my seven year old daughter learned first hand what it's like to be harassed for nothing more than her existence. No, not by her peers, if they were her peers she probably would have stood up for herself with all her usual feistiness.
No, these were teenagers boys.
Did I mention that she is seven?
They used words that she didn't understand. She couldn't repeat it to me because she is innocent enough not to comprehend what was said. But she knew that it hurt, that she felt intimidated and unsafe...and that they deliberately targeted her.
It's hard to explain the mix of emotions I felt to see her so upset.
Rage was pretty foremost. Someone scared my beautiful strong girl.
Helplessness followed pretty quickly...I wondered how on earth I could get a handle on this without completely overreacting. I became very conscious that I wanted to protect her. Of course, surely that's every mother's instinct. But what I wasn't prepared for was the anger I felt when I found myself contemplating the measures necessary to keep her away from this scenario again. Making immediate changes to her routine seemed a pretty quick solution.
Then I realised...I'm validating her fear.
I'm teaching her it is her responsibility to change herself in this situation...and worse, I'm not dealing with their behaviour, not making them accountable for what I consider to be appalling behaviour on the streets of my town in broad daylight!
This is not her fault.
So I'm going to teach my beautiful girl that these voices don't matter. That she can hold her head up high and sail on past without a care because she is safe in the knowledge that she is loved. My only hope is that together she and I can find in her inner strength that will block out the voices.
To the parents of those boys, I hope that when you find out about this, and I fully intend that you will, I hope your immediate reaction is horror that your child would do such a thing and that it sets off a chain of events that will lead them to grow into intelligent, empathetic, young men.
That is my sincerest hope.
Well, sorry folks...today is no exception.
I won't go into too much detail because, for a start I don't have all of them and secondly, I want to protect my daughter.
But suffice to say that today my seven year old daughter learned first hand what it's like to be harassed for nothing more than her existence. No, not by her peers, if they were her peers she probably would have stood up for herself with all her usual feistiness.
No, these were teenagers boys.
Did I mention that she is seven?
They used words that she didn't understand. She couldn't repeat it to me because she is innocent enough not to comprehend what was said. But she knew that it hurt, that she felt intimidated and unsafe...and that they deliberately targeted her.
It's hard to explain the mix of emotions I felt to see her so upset.
Rage was pretty foremost. Someone scared my beautiful strong girl.
Helplessness followed pretty quickly...I wondered how on earth I could get a handle on this without completely overreacting. I became very conscious that I wanted to protect her. Of course, surely that's every mother's instinct. But what I wasn't prepared for was the anger I felt when I found myself contemplating the measures necessary to keep her away from this scenario again. Making immediate changes to her routine seemed a pretty quick solution.
Then I realised...I'm validating her fear.
I'm teaching her it is her responsibility to change herself in this situation...and worse, I'm not dealing with their behaviour, not making them accountable for what I consider to be appalling behaviour on the streets of my town in broad daylight!
This is not her fault.
So I'm going to teach my beautiful girl that these voices don't matter. That she can hold her head up high and sail on past without a care because she is safe in the knowledge that she is loved. My only hope is that together she and I can find in her inner strength that will block out the voices.
To the parents of those boys, I hope that when you find out about this, and I fully intend that you will, I hope your immediate reaction is horror that your child would do such a thing and that it sets off a chain of events that will lead them to grow into intelligent, empathetic, young men.
That is my sincerest hope.
Friday, 13 May 2016
Fear
I'm totally and irrationally scared of spiders. Utterly terrified. To my horror I came across one the other day that put up a fight when I tried to suck it up the hoover (please spare me the stories of what happens when you do that, I've already had nightmares about it).
I've tried analysing this fear. I think what gets me is the movement. There's something about seeing them move fast in my peripheral vision that sends my flight senses into total overdrive. My heart pounds, I get shivers down my spine, there's a huge adrenaline dump in my brain and usually I jump about ten feet in the air. There have been childhood moments, I grew up in an old cob house and the place was rife with them, big black house spiders. We also had an impressive brown seventies carpet with a geometric pattern all over it and sometimes I would catch a glimpse as they ran, and then they would simple disappear in the camouflage the dark patterns.
Maybe it's a childhood trauma thing, but I do know that it's a real fear reaction, and one that I struggle to face.
But fear is like that. It's paralysing. It keeps us bound. Fear of what people will think. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being wrong or making mistakes. Fear of how other people will behave.
I'm learning to let go of fear.
I'm still not good with heights, my stomach somersaults and the world turns upside down and I feel like I have to sit down or I'm going to fall off...even if I'm stood something solid.
But I'm learning to let go of being scared and worried about what people think. I'm beginning to realise that I am so much more capable than I had believed in the past.
I'm learning that the only thing that I'm in control of is me and my reactions to things. I'm learning that if I feel something is the right decision then it probably is and I don't have to analyse everything so deeply, with every scenario planned out. I have hit incredibly dark moments, engulfed in confusion and despair and come out the other side...the unknown holds much less fear for me now.
A friend of mine told me recently "You can plan everything to the Nth degree but the reality is that the outcome with probably happen in a way that you had never even considered would be an option!"
So, I may not be able to overcome my spider phobia, but I can choose to think about how i respond when that knot tightens in my stomach and I break into a cold sweat.
Step by step I will leave fear far behind.
I've tried analysing this fear. I think what gets me is the movement. There's something about seeing them move fast in my peripheral vision that sends my flight senses into total overdrive. My heart pounds, I get shivers down my spine, there's a huge adrenaline dump in my brain and usually I jump about ten feet in the air. There have been childhood moments, I grew up in an old cob house and the place was rife with them, big black house spiders. We also had an impressive brown seventies carpet with a geometric pattern all over it and sometimes I would catch a glimpse as they ran, and then they would simple disappear in the camouflage the dark patterns.
Maybe it's a childhood trauma thing, but I do know that it's a real fear reaction, and one that I struggle to face.
But fear is like that. It's paralysing. It keeps us bound. Fear of what people will think. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being wrong or making mistakes. Fear of how other people will behave.
I'm learning to let go of fear.
I'm still not good with heights, my stomach somersaults and the world turns upside down and I feel like I have to sit down or I'm going to fall off...even if I'm stood something solid.
But I'm learning to let go of being scared and worried about what people think. I'm beginning to realise that I am so much more capable than I had believed in the past.
I'm learning that the only thing that I'm in control of is me and my reactions to things. I'm learning that if I feel something is the right decision then it probably is and I don't have to analyse everything so deeply, with every scenario planned out. I have hit incredibly dark moments, engulfed in confusion and despair and come out the other side...the unknown holds much less fear for me now.
A friend of mine told me recently "You can plan everything to the Nth degree but the reality is that the outcome with probably happen in a way that you had never even considered would be an option!"
So, I may not be able to overcome my spider phobia, but I can choose to think about how i respond when that knot tightens in my stomach and I break into a cold sweat.
Step by step I will leave fear far behind.
Saturday, 7 May 2016
Dressing up!
One of the things that I have realised as a result of my life completely changing direction recently, is just how much time I spent trying to grow up fast. I think I was imagining that life would be so much more fulfilling and complete once I was out of my teens and married.
I forgot to do the things that make me happy. Forgot to find out who "me" really is.
Let me give you an example. I'm using this as an example because when i told some of my married mum friends about this a few days ago, they looked at me like I was nuts. Or having some kind of premature mid-life crisis or something. My fabulous friend is having a joint birthday part and the invite says "come as your favourite disney character"! I have discovered just how much I love dressing up! I love making costumes and wearing them.
Sure, I went through my goth phase at college (and never really got past it, in all truth), but this is more. This is about wearing crazy stuff that I could never where every day (because corsets and cycling really don't mix well) and really enjoying myself. I wonder whether this is about lost childhood or discovering the fun side of being an adult. Have I regressed or progressed?
Is there a reason that we feel we can't indulge in things we really desire to do. Is something being considered "childish" really a reason to dismiss it? In the same way that adult colouring has made a massive resurgence - Johanna Basford's latest book sold 55,000 copies in it's first week of release alone - could there other aspects of our lives that we've banished to the closets of a childhood long forgotten? For example, we've become very quick to dismiss those who attend comic conventions or play online RPG's to the realms of geeks or nerds who, in our heads, wouldn't look out of place in The Big Bang Theory but perhaps we're missing a trick...
There is a wealth of evidence to suggest that belonging to a community, be it faith, sporting, artistic or a hobby, feeling part of something and that others are with you and that your passions are validated, has a hugely positive effect on our mindsets. Maybe as adults we need to open our minds a bit more what those communities might look like...a hobby and a community could be the very thing that will help you feel rejuvenated, less stressed and burned out.
Back to the party - I'm lucky that my darling man has gotten as much into the spirit of this as I have. We're not doing the conventional. So steampunk, slightly grungy Cinderella and Prince Charming is where we're pitching it. So excited! My fabric has arrived and I've been scouring Pinterest for ideas. Just hoping it's going to turn out vaguely decent. But my man is going to look awesome, that much I do know.
Will post pictures when it's finished :-)
Ax
I forgot to do the things that make me happy. Forgot to find out who "me" really is.
Let me give you an example. I'm using this as an example because when i told some of my married mum friends about this a few days ago, they looked at me like I was nuts. Or having some kind of premature mid-life crisis or something. My fabulous friend is having a joint birthday part and the invite says "come as your favourite disney character"! I have discovered just how much I love dressing up! I love making costumes and wearing them.
Sure, I went through my goth phase at college (and never really got past it, in all truth), but this is more. This is about wearing crazy stuff that I could never where every day (because corsets and cycling really don't mix well) and really enjoying myself. I wonder whether this is about lost childhood or discovering the fun side of being an adult. Have I regressed or progressed?
Is there a reason that we feel we can't indulge in things we really desire to do. Is something being considered "childish" really a reason to dismiss it? In the same way that adult colouring has made a massive resurgence - Johanna Basford's latest book sold 55,000 copies in it's first week of release alone - could there other aspects of our lives that we've banished to the closets of a childhood long forgotten? For example, we've become very quick to dismiss those who attend comic conventions or play online RPG's to the realms of geeks or nerds who, in our heads, wouldn't look out of place in The Big Bang Theory but perhaps we're missing a trick...
There is a wealth of evidence to suggest that belonging to a community, be it faith, sporting, artistic or a hobby, feeling part of something and that others are with you and that your passions are validated, has a hugely positive effect on our mindsets. Maybe as adults we need to open our minds a bit more what those communities might look like...a hobby and a community could be the very thing that will help you feel rejuvenated, less stressed and burned out.
Back to the party - I'm lucky that my darling man has gotten as much into the spirit of this as I have. We're not doing the conventional. So steampunk, slightly grungy Cinderella and Prince Charming is where we're pitching it. So excited! My fabric has arrived and I've been scouring Pinterest for ideas. Just hoping it's going to turn out vaguely decent. But my man is going to look awesome, that much I do know.
Will post pictures when it's finished :-)
Ax
Monday, 2 May 2016
A change of focus
When I started my first blog it was intended to be a platform for me to share artwork, inspirations and ideas. If I'm honest I found it hard to keep focus. I had hoped that it would serve to keep pushing me to make art but alas, life is busy, full of work and small children, the time and space to create is often limited.
More and more I find myself wanting and needing to write. Feeling a draw to put words to my inner thoughts, to the things that perplex me and to mark the things I'm grateful for, the joys of life, the craziness of my children and the wonders of love. I want this to be that bit more personal.
So, rather than change my initial blog I have decided to start over, to begin anew with fresh intent.
I hope to make you smile. I hope you will be challenged, moved, inspired and encouraged and that we can share some of the joys of life together.
Ax
More and more I find myself wanting and needing to write. Feeling a draw to put words to my inner thoughts, to the things that perplex me and to mark the things I'm grateful for, the joys of life, the craziness of my children and the wonders of love. I want this to be that bit more personal.
So, rather than change my initial blog I have decided to start over, to begin anew with fresh intent.
I hope to make you smile. I hope you will be challenged, moved, inspired and encouraged and that we can share some of the joys of life together.
Ax
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)