My dear house plants, how I love you so
The leaves of my indoor plants are dusty
Yet they still wait patiently for me
They don’t shout and scream but
Move with the wind from time to time
And when it gets all too much
They weep with their leaves
And I come with my wet tissue
I stroke each leaf free of the dust
Gathered on the days
I have been anywhere but home
And they welcome me
Like I never left them
Like I never left my home
In the Studio
Have you ever felt like time has ran away from you? It’s like you almost felt cheated with your day. One minute you woke up and the next minute, the sun has set and it was time to sleep again.
“Where has the time gone today?” You ask yourself.
But the answer you get is always silence. This silence makes you feel a bit flustered, confused and uncomfortable.
Because to be honest, you don’t know where the time has gone.
All you remember was rushing from one thing to the next.
It’s like your mind has decided to run the show today, making your body a puppet. Consumed by the job of being a taskmaster, your mind can remember nothing but buzzing sounds of demands that seem to come out of thin air, one after the other.
If you’ve listened to my last newsletter podcast, you know that this feeling of running around like a headless chicken has been my past couple of months.
But this week, I’ve been settling into this transitional period. And in doing so, I found my days filled with silence that I am enjoying once again.
And in the moments of silence that appear when I am washing the dishes or listening to prayers or hearing no neighbourly sounds in the dark of the night, I settle into everything that is right in front of me in the moment.
Life in my late 20s is a memory I cherish deeply. It was a time I felt an immense amount of exploratory peace and solitude, not to mention finding my expression with painting and poetry.
Being alone in my house again, I forced myself to be as I had been in those years. But a late night washing of the dishes against the sounds of prayers settled in me a recognition that I am no longer the person I used to be.
She is still there- the carefree, questioning, rebellious self. But she has become more integrated with other life experiences.
And more importantly so, with choices.
I didn’t realise this, until retrospectively facing my own thoughts in this moment of solitude. The water running down from the tap making a regular splashing rhythm made me think back over the questions I asked myself in the last two years, as I entered my 30s.
Am I happy where I am? Do I want a relationship? Is my job fulfilling me? What did I want to do with the next decade of my life?
Big, huge questions. But ones that I seemed, when I look back at it now, daring to ask myself.
And those questions have led to choices being made. Choices then turned into decisions. Decisions into actions, actions feeding back into decisions and off on a cycle I went.
This morning I was once again back at my kitchen room sink. Washing yet another dish.
I looked out over at the crows landing on the top of the trees in my garden as they surveyed the area for any incoming enemies.
Once they were sure they were safe, some kept a lookout and others dived right into the piles of bread I had put out for them, before diving right back up so the others watching can take a turn to eat.
Side note: I love this about crows. It’s something I learned from my mum. Crows operate in a tightly knitted group. They look out for each other. They fend off enemies together. I’ve seen brave tiny crows fending off huge hawks in the countryside area I live in.
Anyway, back to my kitchen sink. So there I was. Admiring the view of these birds that warmed my heart. So deeply that a question rose inside me:
“Would I want to be doing something else than all the things I was doing in this moment?”
And the answer I felt inside was a very clear:
No.
Amongst the time I make for everything in my life- from my full time job to making videos for content, writing newsletters, creating art, to looking after my home with the duties that bring daily to making time for prayer, and lastly, to develop my personal relationships…
I was, in fact, deeply satisfied with life as it was.
Yes I could do with an extra day of free time, yes I can’t make time for everyone in my life at the moment, yes I do slip with nutrition and exercise, and yes, these days, the house isn’t as tidy as it had been 3 years ago…
But a phrase comes into my mind that I heard from a podcast recently:
“You can do everything. But you just can’t do it all at once.”
So dearest friends, I’d like to return the same question to you:
“Would you want to be doing something else than all the things you are doing in this moment?”
See what comes up for you.
And give your imperfect self the grace of forgiveness if there are things in your life that are a little rough around the edges.
I’d really love to know what your answer is.
If you ended up making it this far, please do a little bit of reflection and either send me a direct message or leave a comment if you are subscribed to the email newsletter.
Until next time. Stay safe. Stay loving.
Some housekeeping refreshers:
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With love,
Win
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