The Curiosity Chronicles - Mid-Winter 2023
Did you miss me?
👋 Phew! Hello!
Welcome everyone! I am so glad you clicked on your email today! Say hello down below!
You probably didn’t notice, but I didn’t send out the June newsletter. Shocking, I know ... please forgive me! Things got a little overwhelming for a while there, and I needed to pare back for a bit, but I am back! Lucky you! Consider this your mid-winter update!
These past couple of months I have continued to practise my commitment to slow down, and it is so much harder than I anticipated when I selected SLOW as my word for this year! I have had varying degrees of success and have discovered that it takes a whole heap of patience, grace and compassion for oneself — and for others — to jump off the capitalist treadmill and reassess what really matters in life. Those eulogy items; the things people will remember us for. “Oh, Michelle died? That’s sad. Yeah, she kept her house super tidy, never took a sick day and made sure her books never looked like they had ever been read. Oh, and she never missed a deadline. I sure will miss that.” Nope, nope, nope. I would much rather those I love remember me for the excellent cuddles I give, or the favourite meals I cooked, or for offering a shoulder to cry on when it was needed. And occasionally, perhaps I put something out into the world that helped make sense of life for someone or at least made them smile, however briefly.
So, whilst I am sorry I didn’t post last month’s newsletter I am also happy I was able to listen to what my heart and soul needed. And we all benefit from that in the end.
😸 Curious-er and Curious-er!
The slow and gentle work of love
I came across this quote from Maria Popova in someone else’s newsletter a couple of weeks ago (I wish I had noted who it was.) and wanted to share it with you.
“The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love—whether we call it friendship or family or romance—is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light. Gentle work. Steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments when life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for another.” — Maria Popova.
What a tender and marvellous reminder this is. And timely for me! Perhaps it will be for you too.
As a result of this slowing-down experiment of mine, I have seen that happiness, purpose and meaning in life are inextricably linked to other people. Our best lives are interdependent with others — a wide range of others, not just those who look like us, think like us, or are the same age as us! We can live longer, happier, healthier lives by interacting with others, and we derive meaning and purpose through social interactions and serving others. It makes so much sense in light of the quote above. People help us understand who we are. I read a lot about it and experienced it in minor ways but had not yet dived in because that would mean people-ing.
This realisation is very peculiar because I tend to be a hermit. In most circumstances, I am an introvert and shy, with very few close friends. I am happy alone or with my husband — who understands the value of shared silence —. I have always been very selective about my social exposure to maintain resilience and balance ... BUT ... not too long ago, I came across a therapist’s post on Instagram that listed many ways that people protect themselves, including isolation. Oof... and if that didn’t make my heart stop for a moment! Something within my soul resonated and whispered, “Yeah... you probably want to go back, read that again and have a think.” Then to come across the quote above from Maria Popova above shortly after; I think the universe was giving me a kick in the pants.
I took the time to contemplate my isolation and reassess my lack of people-ing, and it became clear to me that I had been using my natural tendency to be a hermit as a shield. Letting it grow and solidify and calcify beyond healthy bounds.
Why? was the next obvious question.
Always best to start at the beginning with these explorations, so I asked myself, what made me build the walls in the first place? It didn’t take long to track that down.
About ten years ago, I went from having many people I considered friends to having about a handful within a very short time. A momentous life event revealed those scant few who appeared to be my real friends, and then over the next few months, I learned that some of those were not trustworthy either. That’s when my shields went all the way up to fortress level. If I didn’t let people in, I couldn't be hurt any more; it made perfect sense. And there the shields have remained; of course, they have been reinforced since by a global pandemic and perimenopause thrown into the mix for good measure.
The more I thought about it, the more it puzzled me, too, that I always became more of a hermit when the black moods swirled around my feet and worked their way up to try to consume me. I felt the need to hide, shove things, and dismiss them. To not let anyone see that side of me and never turn to someone else for help or support. I know where that comes from too, and it pre-dates the shields going up. Part of it was being a “nice girl” people-pleaser who didn’t want to put anyone out or bother them, and part was a hangover from years in religious environments where thoughts and feelings were pilloried as untrustworthy and evil. It was also there that mental health issues were not considered legitimate and were dismissed as manifestations of sin in someone’s life. And so, experiencing those things, even many years after leaving that environment, brought deep shame and the reflexive need to hide and protect myself. Unlearning and releasing those things has brought much emotional relief over the years, but sometimes, old reflexes surface unbidden under pressure.
To be clear, there’s nothing inherently wrong with introversion, but when shyness and self-protectiveness are passed off and used as an excuse to hide away and avoid people, that’s when I have problems.
So many sedimentary layers to chip through. Deep-rooted confidence issues, traumas, betrayals, rusted-on habits. It must balance preserving my energy and choosing when and how to share it with others.
I want to instigate a core breach to force the shields down rapidly ... to pinch a Star Trek analogy, but that would leave me vulnerable. In reality, I suspect I will have to approach it like Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption and chip away at the walls over a long time with a small rock hammer, deciding which parts are healthy and structural and which can be excised. I am allowing time to prepare and grow for the next steps.
So, the question now is how do I expand my social interactions in a way that doesn’t feel forced or fake and honours how my energy is generated? I cannot control anyone else, obviously. Hence, it is up to me to get back out there with genuine openness and to be interested in the lives of others from up close, and to be vulnerable in sharing parts of myself without compromising my physical and emotional safety.
I have already started to expand my social interactions and embrace the gentleness and consistency of the work required to develop deep and lasting friendships through a couple of groups I am involved with and reach out to old friends. To be alongside each other for as much of the life adventure as circumstances allow. I am looking for the good in each person, cheering them on, and holding space when the times of hurt roll in. I move on without guilt when boundaries are crossed. These things are already bringing more depth and satisfaction to my life.
I am still an introvert and a homebody in need of solitude. Still, when I consider accepting social engagements, I slow my head down and make sure my mouth doesn’t say an automatic NO before assessing why and considering the possibility of a YES.
These moments of understanding are part of the reason I love getting older. The self-awareness and wisdom that comes with years of learning and unwinding. I have the space to distil and appreciate life’s delightful moments alongside the difficult ones, where we realise things about ourselves that need fixing; it is both terrifying and exhilarating. This short and wondrous life we can shape, and guide goes by so quickly that we can slow it down with these little adjustments. The willingness to engage with the world and spread the love we are called to share if we want meaning and purpose. Slowly. Gently. Humbly. Compassionately.
✒ Things I hit publish on this month
Sad to say I didn’t publish anything on my blogs in the last couple of months because I have been focussing on my book, but I have plans for a couple of posts in the next few weeks to rectify that situation!
I was, however, featured in a story in the Canberra Weekly magazine a couple of weeks ago. Their reporter, Georgia Curry, stumbled across our Urban Sketching group at the beginning of July and interviewed me as I sketched the Canberra Glassworks buildings. Click the pic to read the article
🎨 My favourite creation
I created this portrait for my friend’s son and his husband as a wedding gift. I had such fun capturing them and weaving some of their personalities into the composition.
👀 Curious things that caught my attention
🍬 Life Savers are not supposed to do this :S
🐌 I bet you didn't know snails like base jumping!
🪼 This made me smile! Who knew engineers could do such fun stuff :P
📸 Caught at just the right moment and angle ... these are always a delight! Photos of Everyday Activities Reveal the Humor of Perspective and Serendipitous Alignments — Colossal (thisiscolossal.com)
🎥 I discovered Ethan Hawke as a creative powerhouse this week ... I thought he was just an actor ... This talk is magnificent! I will be looking at more of his talks!
🧐 What if...we had a chat?
How has your mid-year been? Tell me what has been capturing your imagination!
Have you carried over any habits - good or bad - from the pandemic?
I was delighted to come across your newsletter - I appreciate your vulnerability. I do want to give credit where credit is due - the remarkable quote attributed to Maria Popova actually belongs to James Baldwin. As I reread Maria's newsletter, I can see how the misattribution happened. I'm passing this along, so you don't miss out on other James Baldwin treasures. :)