The beauty of failure

Hey all,

There is a thing I have been thinking about a lot recently and the clue is in the title so this should not be a surprise but it’s the idea of failure. Failure can resemble certain people, significant events, targets, anything. Whatever it resembles to you, failure should not be feared. It is as inevitable as the next breathe you take (and now become hyper aware of). I feel that as a whole, the majority of people I know, fear failure for the fact that they perceive the outlook others will have on them and because of the deskilling factor it plays. But when you look deeper, I don’t remember constant success growing development and resilience. It is within the failure that we learnt the lessons that form our values and our identity. The ethical guidelines that we internally adhere to become the cornerstones of your identity, both professional and personally. And it is within these failures, do you realise what we desire the most. The things that we are willing to let life kick the crap out of us for day after day. Success is great, but failure is damn right beautiful.

This made me think about the failure as an event. If it is as inevitable as I think it is, then it is actually the event more than the emotion. Why? Because everyone will experience failure in their life, that will happen. If you haven’t yet, brace yourself. Someone may fail to meet you, you will fail a job interview, your jeans will rip. These are all examples of failure. But those are all not individualised and you cannot change the presence of these failures when they come. But what is different is the emotion that it provoke. The emotion that you choose to react with is what we do have control over. The thinking between the failure is also your responsibility. So what I am saying is that if you know you cannot change the event (failure), then it’s the thoughts and behaviours that we associate with that are our responsible and so our the consequence that follow those behaviours. If you fail and then you self destruct then you are responsible for the aftermath. The red button will only activate when you push it. I think what I ask myself all the time is what is I never pushed the red button again? What would happen to me? I think it’s time to re-evaluate my own rule book.

Despite this spontaneous re-evaluation, I still choose not to be afraid of failure. I like the growth that parallels failure’s presence in my life. I do one thing that scares me everyday and sometimes hope that I fail. I learn the rules better than way. I learn where I can push the boundaries and where I stand with people. Apologises are not hard to come be with me around and I would much rather ask for forgiveness than permission. To failure is to ultimately succeed. You cut your hair often to make it grow, and the more your fail is the more you learn. I don’t learn through my successes. That’s a reinforcement of what I already know what things I am good at. Why do we as humans think that we must be perfect? That we will get it right without practice? Is everyday we walk this earth another practice day? And when you fail, who’s standards are you failing by? If the answer is not your own, stop whatever you are doing and look in the mirror. You should always and only set your own bar. You do not owe anyone anything.

Screw the others I say. Fail gloriously and as often as you can. The beauty of failure will forever outweigh the dizzying unsteadying heights of success. Your platform will be more stable with deeper roots and a familiar face. Someone said to me once, “don’t judge someone by the successes under their belt, but their reactions to the failures they experience”. I finally get it, I finally see the honesty in that. Failure hurts in the moment you experience it. I don’t love those moments. But what I do love if the thought I have directly after it. The “I am never wanting to experience that again” and the “what can I learn from that?” That’s where the success happens. That’s where my identity is taking shape from. Bruises are only so deep but values run to the core. Failure makes me build myself from the inside out.

Today, I failed, I failed little and often. But I learnt things by doing it. I learnt that I do really value my space. My me time is my favourite time. I realise I give myself to a lot of people, and I don’t want to change that. Maybe I just realise that that requires me to take more time hiding away. A lesson can only be learnt when thought about and reflected upon. So here I am, thinking about it.

Time for sleep,

Ivy xx

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Silence is golden

Good midnight all,

It’s half past one in the morning and the world is sleeping. It may not be evident by my quality of writing but I am indeed awake. So awake that I cooked (warmed) some poptarts up and have been sitting in bed thinking about my life. Why does my brain feel it appropriate to switch up the gears now? Was it the coffee? Was it the over played repeats of past interactions? Is it the worried of what is yet to come? Maybe it’s the poptarts? It’s chocolate by the way.

They say silence is golden, but why does it feel so deafening tonight? Why do my thoughts play me for the fool today? This is not okay, I keep telling myself to stop thinking but I can’t. As I type to possibly incoherent post, a part of me realises that I don’t think I want to stop thinking. I have taken comfort in my own thoughts for years. I have retreated to be place, my rabbit hole for years and years. My relationships have previously taken me away but they always end and I retreat to hibernate. I hibernate until I am ready for the world to see me again. Until I feel strong and brave enough to be seen again. Tonight I reached out to the world, already knowing it wasn’t vibing with me, only to be matched with my expectation, to get a wall of silence. I felt the coldness of the moon and all of the lights went off. I have left myself outside alone but I’m holding the keys. I see the warmth of my bed, the duvet and my pillows and my fart lights sparkling at me. Oh it’s such an inviting scene. But I am still standing in the doorway waiting for something. What am I waiting for?

1:48 on the clock now and my thoughts are so fast and furious. I hear the gentle busy of a distance world outside of my walls. The rare light passing my window. I wonder what is keeping you up sir or madam? Are you driving to see a loved one? Are you going home from work to an empty home with a unsympathetic cat who wants feeding? Are you wide awake like me driving to figure it all out? Do you stop and see my light and wonder the same about me? Well let me be the mythoclast and tell you that I am just a wandering soul looking for a cup of coffee and an ear to bend. I am looking for myself in amongst the visible. If you saw you, you wouldn’t miss me but I’m not easy to spot. It’s like the hardest game of Where’s Waldo you will ever play. That’s simply my anecdata of my own situation but I ironically feel it is spot on. But anyways, I’m up. I’m awake, I’m verbally wandering the street, driving stolen cars and causing havoc on my own virtual city. I am doing all this without leaving the bed, and wow it’s a miracle – you really can be in two places at once. It’s like my thoughts have been my feet and I have walked for miles and suddenly realised how far I am from home. I didn’t think to stop, turn around, do a lap. In this moment, Forrester Gump popped into my head. You know when he has been running and running and then he just stops. That’s me, right now. I have stopped. I have stopped running and I have turned around to face the followers, the world, the miles travelled. I am looking but just don’t see it yet. I need to stop looking so hard, so deeply, so frantically. I need to merely observe, to stand and observe what I have achieved and not what I have still to travel. Changing direction hurts but it’s then changes you. I want to be the change I seek. I want to see the beauty in myself every damn day, not just the really great days.

So, I am buying a bike in the morning (or this week), and I am going to change the transportation. I never liked running anyways. I want to ride a pretty bike with a basket and a bell and a leather seat. I want to see the distance back in a new light, at a new speed, at a different pace. I’m crapping my pants but I am heading home. The bed is calling and I want to dream. I want to be my dreams one day. I want to say “holy crap, this is my life” and really mean it. Really feel it. This transformation isn’t going to be beautifully done. It’s going to be bunny hopped and gasping. It’s going to be the “will she, won’t she?” story! Let’s find a daisy and pluck out each petals one at a time and place our bets and who will win, just like when we were children. Will she? Will she not. Will she? While she not?

Guess what, I will,

Ivy xx

Vacations still need baggage

Hey all,

So I am in the beautiful country of Latvia. It’s so cold and it’s been snowing BUT it is so incredible. I will add a few photos to the post out of the hundreds I have taken! I’ve walked 8 miles today and I have popped back to the hotel to rest before venturing out later to take some night shots tonight. It’s about 4pm in Riga and I feel like it been a long day already. I started early and it was nice to get out and about. The world felt empty and quiet.

Walking 8 miles in a day isn’t for everyone. I know that. I think that’s why I love travelling alone. I am able to amble, mingle amongst the busy and let my own feet guide me. I let the music play and I wonder until I say enough. Travelling alone allows me to be the small, the unimportant, and the unnoticed. I am the shadow and the faceless. It’s gives me space to be unobserved, untested, and unaccompanied. I don’t forgot my feelings or my responsibilities, they just forgot me.

I sat in a coffee shop today (no shock there), and got my map out, spread myself across the table – maps, bullet journal, camera, hat, handwritten notes of things to do, phone, all over the table. It was my space. The waitress must have just thought “oh my god” when she brought the coffee over. On a table for four, there was no room for a coffee. I made room of course but it felt nice to have so much room to myself. Two coffees later and a day planned for about an hour, I finally looked up from my table and saw the empty seats in my booth opposite. I forgot they were empty. I didn’t mind it’s emptiness, I just noticed it. I guess by noticing it, I thought for a second what would it be like to have someone here? Would I enjoy this experience more? I know I would feel easier about going to the toilet, that’s for sure. But I don’t think I want anyone with me. The comfort with the empty booths, me sitting with three empty spaces around me lets me know I am okay with being alone. With the state of the table, there isn’t room for anyone else. Isn’t that ironic? Maybe that where I am at on a larger scale, maybe I am not ready for anyone to join my table. Not just yet.

img_3444-1

For now, I think that in some cases, having the what if’s are better than the have done’s. Imagination may be better than the reality of things, wishes may be better than memories. My dreams keep me feeling alive, where the memories keep me awake at night. Maybe some dreams and wishes are meant not meant to be heard. When the noise stops, would those dreams still be there? The only thing we can take from this world is the emotions we feel and the memories we have. Maybe that’s all I am meant to need in my life. I’m here, alone, in Riga, and feel powerful. I feel alive, wanderlust fuelled, and so able. I let it all go and get to smile without an audience. Nothing feels forced. I feel no pressure from anyone, I am truly single here. I am unattached to any friend, situation, family member, work colleague, even stranger. I have no one depending on me. I am totally detached to my world. Why cannot my daily life feel this liberating? Maybe that’s what this time is all about. It’s to start detaching a little and taking more time for me. It’s giving myself space to be a single entity. It’s being simply Ivy. Simply me before it’s a “we” or an “us” again. I don’t doubt that I won’t be always be alone, crap I think I am the most unlonely woman in the world. I have so much around me, I cannot feel lonely ever. And damn it, I made my world that way and proud of it. I never have been alone, I never walk in fear, I never feel the coldness. I know I have the bits that make me cry, the bits that make the nights long, the bits where darkness can be scary, but I have never stopped dead in my tracks. I always keep going, I always keep moving, one foot in front of the other for a while, but there is always movement and direction. I have the love of a hundred hearts, some unseen to this world now, but felt by few. Travelling still requires baggage, but I just carry mine better now. I hear the noise, see the chaos but feel the love. It’s never too far away. Whatever my destination is meant to be, make it a little further, I’m not ready to see it yet. I like this journey too much.

Trekking on,

Ivy xx

Noise

Grasp

Captivating

Patience

The dangerous game

Morning all,

Isn’t it funny that the environment around your life has change in a matter of days? That everything you thought you saw around you plays a game of spot the difference upon your return. Or that even your autopilot mode forced a change of cards. Either way, when you next look up, it’s the end of the line and the conductor is shouting “all change please”.

One thing I have learnt over the years and it recently hit me when I said it to a friend was that I know the true meaning behind “be careful what you wish for”. I have learnt the value of these words separately and as the string. I don’t know about you guys out there, but when I wish, I ask the stars for what I want most in that moment. I have never wished to win the lottery, for world peace, or for things like shoes. I’m not that way inclined. This may not be a shock anymore, but I have always wished for love. Even writing this now sounds pathetic but I think I have to let this all go. I have had some incredible people try and love me over the years. I have had different version of love stories that all could have been beautiful variances of something that could have resembled the happy ending. And at those times, I think I attracted what I was ready for, the first love, the ideal woman, the lover’s leap, and the best friend turned lover. I had all of the main themes covered by love stories. I’ll describe them one by one to help you understand their characters and that chapter:

  • The first love – first relationship with a woman and together for 4 years. We were that couple that met and everyone knew we would get engaged and when people asked “how did we know that we didn’t want anyone else” we said we just knew. In my head, we were the couple that didn’t “need to date around” and we would make it. God I was so wrong, and a month after we got engaged, we ended and tried to be friend years later but well we just don’t work as friends.
  • The ideal woman – one of the more recent woman in my life, a work colleague. When I thought about my ideal partner, this woman ticked all the boxes. Clever, reflective, similar job, independent, beautiful, honesty every box was ticked. We were getting to know each other and well, all I can say is that weeks of hurt and uncertainty later, we ended. I pushed too hard for her to give me more far to soon, much sooner then she was ready for and she broke my trust. Safe to say we ended before we began and now it’s feels like we never existed.
  • The lovers leap – this is my aka ultimate love story, the one I wanted all along. From a young age, my favourite love stories were those where the couple married soon after meeting, days, weeks or months later and then loved happily ever after. I had this. 3 months in and I was engaged and buying a house. The story was beautiful to me. However, a beautiful story has to have the right characters. When it came down to the wire, I knew it wasn’t right. I left everything and walked away.
  • The best friend turned lover – the one I didn’t see coming but has stayed around for years. The one where our kids would be picture perfect and inevitably the road to an us was future focused but rocky. The permanence of a future was something I didn’t doubt and her love was my backbone. I will never doubt what she felt for me, and no doubt still feels. But we ended and the road to us currently seems to have been more of a cul-de-sac. We go around and around the house but never get anywhere. Safe to say, she spoke and I have finally listened.

So why am I explaining this. Well I think I have lost these individuals along the way, these stories will forever remain chapters in my book that have ended. So I was thinking about it. At one point in my life, I wished for all of these loves. I wished for these stories to play out. Was I watering the plastic plants thinking they would grow? I have had the love I wished for and I lost it. Whatever you have, you only lose what you cling to. But what if what you cling to, wasn’t never yours? What if I wasn’t meant to have any of them, what if I was just a chapter in their books?

So the wishing game needs to come with a health warning. The dangers are occurred by just playing. If you put your desires into a box and say that is what you want, you limit yourself. You are the only limit to your life. You set the pace of your life and I know what it means now by you have time. I have time to find out what character the next person will play, or if any of the above will make a comeback, who they will play. I just don’t wish for them anymore. I will take my time on me. Someone once wrote “working on myself, by myself, for myself” and I don’t know who it said it. However, may be that is because it is the determined voice of every person who wants to find themselves and their place in their own story. I go back to the conductor who is saying “all change please”, well shouldn’t that be me in my life? It won’t get any better than this. This is the “one time” performance and the world’s eyes are all waiting for me to take center stage. They will take you on my own estimate of my worth and on the performance you give. I will be the one winking back when looking directly into the eyes of the biggest storm. Maybe, for now, I am just looking for my lines. Maybe I just want to find myself and be her. I know I want love. I don’t want to be single forever but if that’s the cards I am dealt, I will play my ace.

I would like to apologise to all those people named above for the role I played in our demise. I was one half of the problem. Thank you for trying to run with me when your legs were tired. I hope life is good for all of you, and if not, I hope it gets better. If any of you ever come back, the kettle is on. There will be no more scripts for you to have to memorise, no more obstacles. If not, then I respect your decisions. This isn’t an invite for you all, and I won’t be sending this as a letter and making contact. It’s just an invite to say that if you still feel our chapter isn’t done, the ink is still wet, then pick your moment, say hello. I don’t have the script to say this is a happy ending but everything starts with a hello. To the next character to want an appearance, tread with caution and actually, hold off for a while. I’m not an easy person. My own mother calls me hard work but I’ll bring a love you have never seen before, shall we get there. Give me time to warm up to an idea of unscripted life, I’m currently licking my wounds in my rabbit hole but I’ll be back. That all sounds like a contradiction but I guess what I am trying to say is that, I am open to whatever life has to throw at me. I am letting go on my own narratives and letting things just play out now. I’m lost for words and I have to rely on myself.

Letting it go,

Ivy xx

Suddenly

Meander

Captivating

Breaking new ground

Evening all,

As the snow is still coming down as it has done all day and the day is drawing to a close, I have had time to think today. So much time to myself. I updated my bullet journal (see below) – I ended February and started March. I reviewed my goals and my progress and closed the door on another month of 2018. I am proud to say that I have somewhat shifted myself this month, I am breaking new ground. I realise that I think so differently to most people, so deeply, so connected to my decisions, my mistakes, my path, that every step has meaning. I have a intoxicating belief that I can dream outside of the lines and be the different and right now, I am starting to see myself in the distance. I am liking the frame.

There is something about a new month that makes me feel so able. So able to do things, to set new goals, to feel like progress is possible. I reread my old blog posts a few nights ago, just the recent ones, and I can really see the journey I am coming on. Progression has taken the shape of a white page and thousand of words. I put the two quotes pictures above in my bullet journal as a reminder of my purpose, my journey for me. This got me thinking, feeling like I have had the whole thing the wrong way round. I feel like I am so far from anywhere I have ever known, but heading towards home. I look around and see new surroundings, I see no faces, no crowds but yet all looks so familiar. It feels like the opening seconds in the final hour. It’s so beautiful out here, alone, it’s quiet. It’s calm. It’s spacious. It’s untouched and undiscovered. It’s a fresh layer of snow on a tainted road.

Above all else, being scared, worried, uneasied, I’m excited. I followed this road I am on because it felt connected to my purpose in some way. It wasn’t a randomly selected left or right, it felt somewhat paved. I was naturally drawn to it and it just required some courage and a deep breathe. London was incredible. Truly eye opening. I pushed myself to the edge of my own cliff and willingly jumped into the unknown. My youth came rushing back to the surface and I felt so fearless. I walked for miles. I sat at lunch in the sun and wrote one line “remember these moments.” I want to remember sitting in that sit, hearing the street player singing, and looking at the empty chair opposite me and loving its lack of shape. I loved that moment, I want to write a book of those moments. I want to take mental pictures of those moments and let that be a playground for my daydreams. If I think about it, no one remembers the miles I have walked in my own shoes so I am going to make it the best god damn story for my bedtime reading. I am going to replace my fears with curiosities and let my heart do the talking. I am going to stop pulling myself out of the good thing, the chances I get and not let my decisions keep me up at night anymore. I want to look at my journal and say where to next heart? Everything is worth it when you are the one buying the shoes. Make it count. Make it all count.

I was asked at the weekend who I wasn’t. I was talking to a woman and she asked me who I wasn’t. I didn’t know how to answer that as I am so sure of who I am. The only thing I could say was “I am not ordinary and I am not what I expected.” I wasn’t expecting to be this person, to have this path. I may not be the girl you see first but I am the one in the corner dancing to her own tune and I didn’t even see you come in anymore. I’m not watching the door for the next best thing or someone new anymore. I’m done looking around to be saved, validated, felt to have meaning. I have all that right now, here alone, armed with a smile. Please don’t think that I am arrogant or lonely, I am neither I promise you. I am just particular with who my drawbridge is lowered for these days. I am trying to make sense of my soul and just need to protect that space for myself right now. I am made up of the complicated and the unfamiliar with a dash of unwavering passion for life. It just takes time to understand it. To weasel out the doubts and find myself again.

I’ll get there, I am getting there, give me some wise words world,

Ivy xx

Dim

What’s left behind

Good afternoon virtual void,

Take that as it was intended to be, a compliment. A void is an empty space but it is also something that has no legal binding or enforcement. This space, these pages, are my dumping grounds that do not judge me for my lack of communication, my appearance, my mood. It has no demands, just limitless space solely for me. It’s beautiful and it feels like my best friend sometimes. Its funny that I found a best friend in such a void. Or this is just me finally learning to love myself? Either way, your value and simple existences is greatly appreciated.

I found this thought today when I was sitting in Starbucks in my town and planning my weekend to London. Tomorrow morning I jump on a coach to the big smoke for a weekend of self love. Just me, myself and I (and oh about 3 million strangers) in a city of dreams. The city where I stopped being my mother’s daughter, the sister, the child and I stared at the world as Ivy. I threw all the titles in a bin and said “This is me, world. Ready or not.” I felt my strength and passion for people and life grow as I shred the layers of naivety and self doubt. Looking back now, just wow! What a life I have made for myself. The things I have seen, the people I have met. I’m going “home” for a weekend like a child does when they take their school work home to put on the fridge.

This got me thinking about what is left behind after the world takes it’s pounds of flesh each day. After the light fades and darkness creeps in. Where pillows welcome home their masters and the unconditional love written all over the my walls speaks to me to say “it’s okay, I missed you.”

I see myself in all the different hats I wear on the walls – the best friend, the auntie, the sister, the daughter, the graduate, the mother to my dog. Then I see my favourite photo in a beautiful white vintage frame. I see my niece and I on the beach from Christmas just past. I see me there, the version that is still there after all the labels are removed, after the world has had enough of me for a day. I see the version that is always there but few actually get to see. I see the girl that made her own world out of the rumble of a thousand wars but a million victories. I see the girl wearing a bathing suit and smiling. Unfortunately, this society tries to make me feel ugly because it is ugly. Society is an ugly beast with a beautiful face and impossible expectations. However in this picture, I see a girl who is bigger than your “average” girl and I am smiling. I am smiling a big fuck you to society smile. That is the girl I am taking home for the fridge, the girl that will be getting on the coach tomorrow. I wear my battle wounds with my medals of honour and I don’t let the world get to close to me anymore. I cry so many less tears these days but I still pack the tissues. Society, people, supposed love stopped apologising for hurting my feelings and I stopped expecting them to change. I got the confidence to walk away from those people, those places, those ideations that left me in a rumble and I got stronger. I see all this when I see that picture. I just see me and I am doing okay.

So what’s left behind when all is said and done? Well, me. Me is the developed, refined form. Me that never tears myself down anymore. Me that goes to sleep every night saying to myself “well done and I love you.” I do love myself and I am proud of myself. I have come so far since you London. I cannot wait for you to see me, you are going to be so proud. I am more than society can handle. I will feel your touch and smile. I will be alone and I will become familiar with you again, even just for a weekend. I will fall in love with you whilst you get to know me. You will see the girl in that picture dancing on my own. There is room for improvement but I have a solid base now, I am not hollow anymore. I am substance. I am beautiful. I am proud to be me.

We all feel that we could have done something differently or handled a situation better. However, what butterfly effect would that have caused. Yes I would have been more grateful for my family, was less moody as a teenager and spent more time with my father before he passed away. But those moments taught me lessons about time being precious and be kind above all else which I may not have learnt those lessons otherwise. So instead of reliving that, I want to say well done to myself. I’ve coped well and I am still standing. Because in this society, we are all a bit too quick to criticise and find faults within ourselves. We should be taking the time and building ourselves up. We need to love the crap out of ourselves in order to survive. We need to gave ourselves a break because life is hard and it’s cold. Society is brutal and as unforgiving as the concrete you hit at the bottom. All you can do is pick yourself up, stand tall, and drown them out.

So ready or not, here I come,

Ivy xx

Conversant

Uncompromising

Grasp

Decade of desire

Evening all,

In the aftermath of a momentous day, I found myself thinking about desire. The urge to have something, a carve. A desire can be one of the most powerful driving forces for the human race. For me, to desire something means I have a draw to something so powerful that it does not require any thought or energy. My deepest desires act as unconscious magnets pulling me back to my path and makes me utterly courageous. My longing calls to me and pulls me back for the fruitless off-piste adventures that divert me temporarily. I always come crawling back to my roots, my road, my own beaten path.

My passion and desires in life and for my career is invested with too much of my soul to be judged or handled by time-servers or anyone who has never felt passionate about something. I have given 11 years to my developing career without ever truly considering this. 1/3 of my life currently spent unconsciously but freely given to my working life. What a thought that is for me. In the pages to come, the love story that will eventually unfold, my career has always been my underlining passion. Which has lead me down the path of exploratory questions…grab a coffee.

  • Am I passionate about finding love?
  • Or am I just preoccupied with the idea of love?
  • Can anyone fill the job description of my partner?
  • Do I even want them to?
  • If I think about it all the time, is it that I am just not comfortable without it?
  • Why is it even important?
  • Why do I weigh it so heavily?
  • What is it’s purpose?
  • Am I in love with the idea of love more than someone?
  • Can I even love another?
  • Can I even love myself?
  • Do I know what love is?
  • Or just what love is not?

Now I know what you are thinking? 1) Yes I am a deep thinker. 2) Yes I am an overanalyser 3) that’s a lot of questions for this time of night. But it’s when the lights go out and the stars are the only ones watching is when my mind is most at work. I think about myself and my suffering. My heartbreak and my “oh shit, did I do that?” moments. In link with the above questions, I find myself questioning my infatuation with love – how does this all link up? Tonight whilst considering that for the last 11 years, I have built an empire of experiences and skills and become something that I have really worked for without a consistent companion being there. I can only wonder why I feel the need to feel so empty without another by my side. I am not missing any body parts, no one has or will protect my from suffering or the uncertainty I will eventually face. I can try to run from it, eat it away, cry it out of me, push it away, but I have to face it, comfort myself in it, sleep with it, become its friend and work with it to reach my desires. But do I desire to be in love or do I simple need to feel anyone next to me?

I have spent 11 years not requiring validation for my career. Aspects of it yes, I doubt my ability yes. But I don’t doubt my passion for it. That is something that I have never truly doubted, and if that’s the case, do I need to spent some much time thinking about my passion to find love because it is not lusted for so unconscious? Do I need to reconsider why I long to call anyone mine, when I don’t doubt calling my passion mine? If you cannot find the words to describe something, there is connection there. If you see something or someone and a feeling immediately presents itself, that is magic. It should always feel naturally, it should be a “hello again” and not a “nice to meet you”. When did I last really look in the mirror and say “hello again”? Not looking in the mirror styling my hair in the bathroom light, or catching a glimpse in the rear view mirror, and not applying my lipstick. When did I stop and see myself? Would I have seen the passion drain? The pressure build? Would I have seen me fade away? 11 years and I have never once faulted in my career enough to give up, but anytime with a women and I disappear like I am trying to hold onto sand. I don’t want to be quicksand anymore, I don’t want to live without substance. I want my own homegrown substance. I think it is time to start sowing some seeds and giving myself some tlc. It’s time to realise that above all else, I’ve always had had something together. I’ve looked for a constant in my life when that position was already filled. I have no desire to be ordinary, no wish to fall in line, no passion to fade into the crowds, I am not a crowd filler. I do not get measured on the spectrum of scrapping by. I like it up where the crowds thin out and the select few are found, It’s quiet, it’s open, it’s where I feel less like sand.

So what do I desire? What if I have the starting base for what I desire? If I change the viewpoint, do I see the things more clearly? Do I see me, just me and nothing but me? I think I do. I think I see a beautiful thing about to occur. I see the skeleton of past experiences, a strong backbone forming and skin looking less weathered by the storms that have passed. But firstly, deep down, I have always seen the fire burning in my core. It has been a light in the darkest days, it has been so visible in my interactions, my identity, my choices. What do I even need a you for? It should not be a need, I should need to be my need, and no one will not be my need anymore. I will be my own better half, my best accessory, my favourite thing. I will love the crap out of myself. I will be the substance that doesn’t slip through my fingers, but grips me. I will dress in desire and see my passion like my breathe on a cold winter day. I won’t let myself go.

It’s now snowing outside and I think I’ll go see what I can see. Breathe in…

Now breathing out,

Ivy xx