Hello Dear One,
It’s spring! Ok, still February, but I’ve just been for a sea swim and I’m sitting at my desk with the sun streaming in and my little dog curled up in a puddle of light on the carpet. Behind my laptop is a vibrant bunch of daffodils given to me by a dear friend. It feels spring-like at least.
The flowers reminded me of an article I wrote a long time ago about clinical depression, when I only wrote things on obscure corners of the internet: relieved and deflated when nobody read them. I didn’t have a name for my condition at the time and, to be honest, thought I was simply broken. The thing about depression is it feels impossible to believe that you will know joy again. When I’m in that space, that low, scary place, I can know things, but not feel them. I can know so many people surround and support me, know flowers are beautiful, but I can’t feel the spark in my heart. The worst thing about this, as is the human condition, was shaming myself for not being happier. It took a long time to unlearn what I took to be true, to defy limiting beliefs. It is the work of a lifetime.
Lately, I’ve noticed how many people ask about my welfare, which is kind and humbling. But I know I’m doing well. The reason I know, for sure, is that I signed up to record a poem for a festival, which I wouldn’t have done if I was struggling. I love making something happen that’s unexpected because it makes me feel alive. And if I don’t - if we don’t - do things that scare us the static will get to us. It’s how the flat feeling starts, and how it spreads. We need challenge to grow. The trick, I believe, is to take a single step and celebrate yourself no matter the outcome. I often start things just before I feel ready because ‘ready’ is a myth and because I know, deep down, no matter what my inner critic has to say, something good will come from it. At the very least, I’ll be able to say I’m proud of myself.
I call this putting on my brave boots. I like this metaphor, the visualisation that - like a superhero - I can summon inner strength whenever I need it. Perhaps a little bit of magic too. It also helps me recognise I don’t have to be courageous all the time; I can just put myself out there and see how it feels.
I hope it helps.
In my classes, we plot an invisible line between survive and thrive, to recognise we’re constantly shifting up and down it. Some weeks just getting through the day is enough, in others we can challenge ourselves. Though it may be frustrating to feel ‘stuck’ in survival mode it’s also a natural part of the human condition. If the thought of doing anything different right now seems exhausting go to the archive and pick something that suits your mood. My favourite thing about writing is that it’s absolutely yours.
Thanks for being here, and being you.
All love,
Jo
Love this, just finished your workshop with ECC (wonderful- thank you!) and came over here to have a nosey :) I've been contemplating similar of late, in terms of recognising I will never feel 'ready' so it's about taking the first step, even if it's a Bambi-like wobbly one. A mentor of mine passed on the wise words of Pema Chodron 'lower your standards and relax as it is' - I've been repeating this to myself over and over of late. Thank you for the fab session, so appreciated <3
These words are so beautiful!! Thank you so much for sharing! I love the idea of the invisible line between thrive and survive! ❤️