Trying to make sense of my little bit.
We didn’t make a final date to decide anything. We were just going to see what happened. According to our psychologist, limiting expectations, sitting with our feelings, and dealing with just what was in front of us at the time was a good thing. But that meant I had no idea what to expect.
One of the smartest, bravest, kindest things we can do is listen to ourselves when our ‘why’ is changing. It doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s time to throw out the ‘how’. It may just be a clue that we’re maturing, we’re growing, we’re learning new things.
The tools of the trade only matter so much, and probably less than we think. But aren’t they a cunning excuse?
The act of changing our minds encompasses growth, humility, wisdom and kindness towards ourselves. I am learning it’s a skill to revere and cherish, not feel embarrassed or ashamed of.
I couldn't write very often in 2020. I had to confront the self-help myth I believed: we need to pursue productivity at all costs, and optimise ourselves at every turn. In doing do, I learned that writing less is better for me.
Without Twitter or Instagram, and a newsfeed blocker on Facebook, it can be hard to connect with what’s topical, so I was delighted to hear that David had started a Substack. David’s work lights up my inbox because he and I share a particular interest. In his greater quest to understand human motivations, David seriously scrutinises conspiracy theories.
What's it going to be? A choice that happened or a choice that you made?
Anne is as fiercely determined as Christopher in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. She’s as kind as The Queen in A Bug’s Life. She’s as funny as Mark Watney in The Martian, if not funnier. She’s as humble as Samwise in The Lord of the Rings.
Jemma Balmer 