At the beginning of last year, I wrote a piece entitled ‘5 reasons I stopped caring in 2016′. I enjoyed writing it, I was able to get rid of my frustrations and have fun with it at the same time. I drew a virtual line under a frustrating year and poked fun at myself at the same time.
Today, (as I write) I am in a very different place. I am in a state of reflection and at peace. So what did I really learn from the year that was 2017.
Saw this today. Alas this is true, I wish for strength in both elements of life.
Art – Not just the painting perfectly placed on a wall. Art is that wall, that Graffiti, Me, You, Us.
Freedom – Not just the feeling of those chains and shackles being lifted. It is the feeling of being able to be yourself. The roles and expectations of others no longer matter, nor should they ever. Freedom is finally being able to say Fuck you, and breathe..all in one go.
Spirit – Not just your inner feelings. But the spirit of your ancestors guiding you. Calling you onwards, whispering in your ear. The ancestors before you, they parted the way so that you can.
Me – Not just a woman. Not just a Mother, not just a domestic maid, not just there to stroke an ego. I am a writer, a lover of Art, a lover of me. I forgot me. She came back.
As usual I celebrate with a wonderful selection of finger sandwiches, tea, and cakes….oh and of course the Champagne.
How to not stare at the person in front of you (and they do not think you are mad)
Now you may think that this is easy, most of us are able pull out some technical device to save us from a fate worse than death. I am here to tell you, it is in fact not.
In my 20s I was always out doing something or being around someone’s house. It was like I was some kind of lizard tasting the outside air with my tongue. Oh how things have so changed, you are more likely to find me enjoying cosy evenings, TV or YouTube, a movie or just the Internet (which is my idea of bliss).
I started to believe I was becoming a bit of a recluse. I knew I wasn’t, I just enjoyed my own little cosy existence. I wondered if it was because I didn’t enjoy the ‘norm’ anymore, or maybe I allowed my own selfish pursuits to take over. I felt like (and still do) I was desperately trying to break out of an imaginary mould. A mould set by my parents, family, and peers. A mould of expectations, culture, norms and values passed down by flawed ancestors to a flawed individual.