If you’re anything like me, you’ll recognise boredom from a mile away. I find it to be such an invasive, pervasive sort of feeling. If I let it take hold of me, I’ll feel a lonely emptiness. The hours will fly by and I’ll wonder how it’s tuesday on a saturday morning. More than boredom, it is having my mind be so painfully empty, so uncluttered, that I fixate on space and just stare off into time.
This boredom is probably the culprit for my time problem. Lately I’ve felt as if the days have just been melting into one, the hours dissolving quicker than I can blink. It’s not a bad feeling even.. just strange and almost confronting.
The cure for this? Bouts of productivity. Some of my most comforting moments have been spent in my own company, undertaking seemingly mundane tasks. Writing lists, tidying, flipping through magazine pages. Lately I’ve been loving working on personal projects. Tying up loose ends with old endeavours I never got around to completing so I can begin again. A good few of you, assuming you’ve been following along for a while now, would know about the short novel I wrote in late 2017. It was 20,000 words, started November 1st and finished by the 30th. It took a competition to push me out of my comfort zone and embrace challenge, but to this day it remains one of the greatest things I’ve done. That stack of paper lays in a box under my bed, held together by a bulldog clip. I haven’t yet read through it, not for a long time, but I look upon it with fondness. It is writing I’m proud of. Yes, some parts may be a little giggle worthy.. but that’s okay. A year and a half on, I now see different ways I could’ve expressed what I wanted to say. Growth is inevitable and a darn beautiful thing.
My biggest personal project at the moment, apart from my blog, which has gotten a beautiful remodel (If I do say so myself..) is actually something else entirely. Not a thing.. but internal work. I have wanted to invest in myself for so long. We are our own constants, our own best friends, our own lovers. We are the centre of our universe and therefore undoubtedly important. Yet, we neglect our relationship with ourselves because it doesn’t seem as valid as our relationships with others.. and that’s because there’s no choice factor. We have always had ourselves and we will continue to find home in our vessels. Think of what you could cultivate if only you prioritised yourself. One of the best ways we can show ourselves love looks like recognising our downfalls and working on them. Recognition and showing up for your imperfect self looks liek true healing. Often, as nice as these things are, we do not crave face masks or hot bubble baths. We crave meaningful connection.
I am the happiest and most in my element when I’m working on myself or what I love. I am and always have been a big believer in curating my life right down to the small details, for when you do that, you’ll have built yourself a haven xx