Last week I wrote about how to be imperfect. It was the product of a week or two of farcical fails and I was looking for a way to drag myself out of the self criticism mind-set. This week, I want to continue on that path, focusing on practicing gratitude and celebrating small victories. It has been just over a year since I started blogging and I have been spending some time recently thinking about all that I have achieved.
I’m not normally one to wade into a twitter row, but something got my goat so much recently that I had to say my piece, which is why this week’s post is a little early! It was like a little irritating stone in my shoe at first which I tried to ignore, and ended up throwing my shoe at the wall!
Watching the whole thing has set a fire off in my belly. So I decided to do what a writer does with that energy and write about it.
When I lived in Leeds, back in my student days, some work colleagues from my part-time job at a bookies, and I used to regularly go to this karaoke night at a pub called The Ship, which was hidden down one of the many small arcades which Leeds city centre has. I don’t really remember that any of us ever actually sang, maybe one lady called Julie who drank the weakest tea I’ve ever seen (funny the details you remember).
This week I released a new crochet pattern called the Play Time Top. I named it that because I strongly believe that we human adults should take a lead from human children and play a lot more.
There’s a quote I heard once which is thought to have originated from Oscar Wilde’s first play
Life is much too important to be taken seriously
I decided to take the afternoon off so had spent some time chilling out by the river.
I forgot my headphones so just sat and failed to read my book, choosing instead to watch the rowers, the tourist boats, the cyclists and dog walkers all pass me by. The Swallows keeping hydrated by diving towards the river, skimming the surface to scoop a beak full of water. The Swan family; a mum who hissed at me when I got too close to her 3 cygnets as I tried to photograph their grey fluff.
A classic bloggers trick is to offer a checklist of solutions. There are blogged lists out there which answer questions you would never think to ask and solve problems you didn’t know existed. People are drawn to these posts becuase they use your 2 seconds of attention to tell you, the reader, quickly whether the content is going to help you.
I don’t have an issue with this. Lists are my favourite way to get myself out of a funk.
But sometimes we can forget that the point of a to-do list is…well… to do!
As a freelancer, I’m learning more every day that community really is important to me.
Not commuting into a grey office everyday certainly has it’s benefits (she says sat in yoga pants and crazy hair) but the one thing I do miss is the sense of community. Having people who understand the culture and context to talk to, to bounce ideas off, or just to chat to about last night’s Love Island…
Confession – I don’t watch love Island, I have tried and it makes me want to tear out my eye balls and give up on the world. But I know a lot of people love it so you guy’s crack on, I’ll be over here wondering why I don’t get it! Maybe I’m just getting old.
I’ve been thinking a lot this week about the way I channel my energy and attention and if I’m making the best use of both.
Am I caring about the right things?
Energy is finite. Whether it’s the fossil fuels under the ground or our physical and emotional efforts, now, more than ever, we need to be thoughtful about where and how we expend that precious resource. Some day the tank is going to run dry and we don’t want to reach the last drop only to realise how much we wasted.
The Saturday just gone, I found myself pulling up into the car park of a conference centre somewhere just off the A13 in Essex.
I was arriving at BlogCon London – my first ever bloggers conference. I was wondering what I had let myself in for as I watched lots of glam looking bloggers make their way towards the entrance.
When designing crochet clothes or accessories, I always start with a question. “Would I wear this?”
If the answer is yes, then I move on from there. I’m not going to pretend that everything turns out perfectly every time, but if at any point the answer to that question becomes “No” then I frog it and start over or move on to something else.
You’ve all seen that sign on the motorway haven’t you? And how many of us stop and get a coffee instead of getting a rest?
The pressures of everyday life, the endless to-do lists and needing to be somewhere all the time, mount up.
I’ve realised that it’s really important to take a break once in a while. Not only does this help to look at things in a new way (see The Importance of Pie), but rest is really key to your health and mental wellbeing.
This week is Mental Health Awareness week here in the UK, hosted by The Mental Health Foundation, so I figured that this would be a suitable time to talk about my own mental health challenges. What I really want to focus on is the word awareness. I’ve come back to write the start of this post last because the process of writing it has given me a bit of a lightbulb moment about what Mental Health Awareness actually means. What it means to me anyway.
I have something a bit different for you today – a film review – of sorts. More like a forgotten nugget of understanding sparked by a film.
On Friday I went out for dinner and a movie with a friend. She had picked the film and I didn’t really know anything about it other than it was about a woman who thought she was a supermodel.