I just concluded the first semester in my Masters programme. Only 3 left to go! (😨) Perhaps I will delve into the main takeaway another time; at this moment, I am feeling feely and have left my critical/ analytical self at the door while I sit with this.
I recently learned about the growing stages of perennial plants– sleep, creep, and leap. You can kinda guess what it means for the plant at each stage, and it mirrors creative endeavours in general, but also life, and especially this specific point in my life now. It feels like the past three years, I was in the sleep stage, not dormant but preparing, preparing, preparing for something. Then, I started this Masters programme and realised this was the something I was preparing for. And now I creep. Like an ink blot stretching out, bleeding. And also like a plant, feeling my roots feed and spread. Making webs, in networks, in neural connections, feeling and filling new environments, and creeping on myself. Tuning in, listening for signals.
By way of the magic in the universe, this second semester is also when we start to turn inwards to ourselves. It's all about stories. The stories we tell ourselves, the stories we pass down, the stories we share with others. What are the stories that shaped who you are today? Who were the storytellers in your childhood? I read so much Enid Blyton and never realised until now that it helped me to look for magic in the world.
During a workshop this week, we had our eyes closed and were told to wake our bodies up. It could be gentle tapping of your limbs, massaging of your head, rubbing of your hands, stretching outwards– whatever feels right for your body. And then my tutor said, “Imagine that you are a parent, and your body is the child. How will you wake your child up this morning?”
I froze, my mind transported to when I was 7 or 8, lying in bed waiting for my mom to wake me up for school. I never felt such tenderness for myself, both as the child and as I am now. The process of bringing my inner child to the forefront has been delicate and scary, but this confrontation (along with the memories, traumas, and love) makes life make sense for me. How can I work with children if I don't take care of my own inner child?
I wonder how you will wake your(child)self up tomorrow morning?
Thank you for tuning in!
This month’s play-list:
Barcelona’s street naming bias as an interactive site
Bird migration explorer 🥲
Bernadette Mayer’s writing prompts/ experiments 🕯️