Giving yourself permission to create

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It was mid-October and my tomato vine was still producing its pearls. My toddler loved to grab this little coconut shell and move from one tomato pot to another to see if something was still lurking on the slowly drying vines. He was usually lucky.

I’ve been thinking a lot about talents and creativity lately. About how little I understand how creativity works but equally about how limited our lives are when we do not find time and courage to answer inspiration and to hear our enthusiasm speaking to us.

I once read an interview with a famous Polish singer in which she admitted that she relies on her audience to cheer her before she appears on the stage, that she almost needs their permission to sing although she’s been singing for over thirty years and has been having a very successful and fulfilling career. I think this feeling is quite a common one – we all need a cheer every so often, but the ironic thing is that until we don’t show what we can and want to do, those around us would not know what to cheer for. That is why having a go (or multiple goes) at doing something and then sharing it with others is important. Trepidation never disappears but it subsides and turns into a strong feeling of joy related to having something completed.

Maybe ideas are a bit like children, we need to help them grow, help them mature but then we need to let them go so that they meet suitable partners for themselves.

I am happy that I did not need a cheer to plant the cherry tomatoes.

The lesson

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I was in a shopping centre yesterday. I bought my son a little toy. One of these tiny cars that you wind up and they drive off on their own in whichever direction you set them in. My son played with it, giggled loudly and was really really excited about it. We walked together towards a play area in the centre and my son saw a crying boy. He walked towards him and put the new wind-up car in his hands, took a step back, smiled to the boy and laughed with joy.

When I described this to someone we briefly concluded that it’s good that the children can share. Then I thought about it for a while longer and decided that what I witnessed was not a lesson in sharing but a lesson in compassion. The simplicity and honesty of the situation was astounding. One little boy saw the other one in pain and did what he could to relieve the pain of the other.

Why do we as adults find it so much more difficult to behave in this way? Have we been educated out of compassion? Are we educating ourselves out of it?

How often have we crossed the street to avoid a person in pain? How often do we ignore the pain of our friends or family members? Why is the pain of others so difficult to acknowledge?

Nothing New – 2014 Challenge

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There are some initiatives that I just cannot resist supporting. This wonderful Aussie mama, Sash from Inked in Colour, has just started one of them. Motivated by greater good and caring, she decided to dedicate 2014 to deliberate living and in so doing she resolved NOT to buy anything new in 2014. Since the themes for Postcards without stamps for this year are those of Caring (The Caring 2014 Project) and Saving to Give, I am jumping enthusiastically on Sash’s bandwagon and am promising myself not to buy anything new in 2014. What I want to do is to transfer the capability to buy new things to those who normally cannot afford it. I don’t want to put the economy out of joint, just gently change who buys – at least just for a year. I want to care for what I’ve got and benefit those that are not as fortunate as I am. Care and Share – these are my two words for this year. The Nothing New initiative will enable me live by these two words.

Are you up for the challenge? At least for a month, a fortnight, one day? Think about it. I’ll write more about how I intend to do it in my next post.

This logo above is from Inked in Colour

Flowersathome

IMG_4698czeresniebw Homemade cakecotton again... how soft and cute

Love, Alicja

It was lonely there (about blogging)

I am not lonely

I looked at this photo of an umbrella left in the garden and I thought that I should write a post about passing, death and loneliness. But I cannot, as in fact, this week I cannot stop myself from baking cakes. I’m celebrating.

I am celebrating the start of this blog. The moment of finding courage to write. The second when I re-discovered my voice and the minute I became daring enough to share some photographs with a wider audience. Okay, I know this is far from perfect. I understand that there is a long way before me, writing-wise, and photo-wise, but it’s a start and if there is at least one person that I encouraged today to smile, pause or ponder, I’ve achieved something.

I am not lion-hearted. In fact, I am a very fearful lady. But I believe that growth, community and friendship comes about through sharing. Sharing interests, talents, problems, passions, laughs, food, worries and experiences. Sharing is necessary. Without it there is no community and only a slow progress of thought. Sharing is always an offer, an offer to engage, an offer to respond, an offer to reciprocate and get in touch. Regardless of language skills, of positions, irrespective of denomination, profession or age, sharing is an invitation to a dialogue.

The fear of judgment and criticism is what stops us from making contributions, from showing and submitting our work, from speaking or making a statement. The moment you share, you position yourself, but you never position yourself forever, so there is no need to worry about being mistaken or being imperfect. The position that you take is the here and now position. It’s alright to develop views with time, it’s alright to change. To give yourself time to improve. Others can help, can comment, can give us courage and appreciate our work. They can enjoy with us our strengths and imperfections and we can cherish their ideas and find further inspiration in them.

We all have underdeveloped skills, underdeveloped thoughts, underdeveloped interests. There’s no need to conceal them, no need to hide them from others. The moment we hide ourselves is the moment when we reject ourselves. If we reject what’s the weakest in us, how are we supposed to look after those who are more vulnerable than us? Our children. Are we going to tell them to hide until they are perfect?

So today I am celebrating. With a cake. The moment of emergence from the hiding place. It was lonely there. Glad I’m out.

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