The chapters of life; A tale of many parts.

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As we transition into a new season full of cool breezes, morning coffee’s and afternoon reflections, I smile and remind myself that this too shall pass. Like the chapters in a book, life is an intricate weaving of stories… of characters coming and going, some fading into the distance like a long forgotten dream, and some remaining till the very end.

I suppose whenever you go through periods of transition, it’s a very definite closing of a certain chapter of your life – I suppose those times are always going to be both very upsetting and also very exciting by their very nature, because things are changing and you don’t know what’s going to happen. (Daniel Radcliffe).

┬áAs I sit here writing this blog, thinking about how far I’ve come in the last few months in creating my new chapter and escaping from the last, I must remember that all our chapters – both the good and the bad, carry meaning and lessons in this crazy journey of life. I can’t simply erase one chapter because I didn’t like it, or because the memories and wounds still ache from time to time. We are the sum of all our parts, and each experience makes us a better person – this is something I do firmly believe.

Embarking on new career opportunities has given me fresh hope… that I will find something that makes me leap out of bed in the morning and feel proud of, work that actually helps people and has a positive impact on their lives. For too long I slaved under the protocols of a soul-less money making wheel, just another number in the game. I’d turn up to work feeling like a zombie, carrying out mind-numbing tasks with zero enthusiasm and judging the people who cared about this job. Didn’t they want some real satisfaction from a career? Didn’t they want to help less fortunate people, or work in a creative and stimulating environment? Well the truth is, I shouldn’t have been worrying about what other people wanted from life – everyone is completely different and NOBODY can or should be told what to do. My only regret is that it took me so long to get out of that rut, but now that I’m free and feeling the sun shine on my face once more, I can appreciate how this chapter has made me stronger, wiser and ready for the next.

So as I sit here listening to the gentle rustle of wind passing through the trees, smelling the fresh cake my Nana is baking and sipping a warm mug of tea, I’m filled with a sudden rush of butterflies to the stomach. Excitement, wonder and appreciation for life’s chapters are something that evaded me for most of last year, and I couldn’t be more happy to be seeing the world in colours once more ­čÖé

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Photo credits – folk_boy & anthropologie

The volcano in my head.

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I’m dead serious – there’s actually a volcano of thoughts erupting all over my head, and I’ve been frantically trying to channel them into a variety of creative outlets for the past few months.

MUST

EXPRESS

MYSELF.

It’s like this burning itch that I’m constantly scratching, uncovering, exposing. Since quitting a job that had become quite toxic to my life in late November, I’ve literally been unravelling all these thoughts and feelings into whatever I can find – writing, art, photography, reading etc … Don’t get me wrong, it’s WONDERFUL. I’m just wondering where the hell I lost my creative self along the way, and what I’ve been doing for the past few years.

As an only child growing up (until the age of 10 when my sister was born), I was pretty lonely. I didn’t have many neighbourhood friends so had to make do with the imaginations in my mind. I would get lost in fantasy books, travelling to incredible lands and often wishing reality was more… well, magical. I essentially learnt how to be alone, something that’s transcended into all avenues in life. Given the choice of a rowdy night out with friends or a quiet night in cooking and reading by candlelight, 9 times out of 10 I’ll choose the solo affair.

I expressed myself (pretty terribly, in hindsight) through a variety of craft-making activities such as mosaics, water colours and beading. For some unknown reason I went through a phase of super-gluing little shells onto items of my clothing. Why didn’t anyone stop me? Well to be honest I’m glad they didn’t – I obviously needed to express myself somehow, and as long as I wasn’t harming anyone then who cares!?

Somewhere along the way I lost all these┬ácreative pursuits, until my recent life overhaul. I went through University, share-housing and meaningless jobs without giving much (if any) time to those activities which I knew brought me great joy. Since taking a step back from the corporate grind I’ve used this blog as a form of self expression, letting all my thoughts and feelings pour out. It’s been cathartic to say the least. I’ve taken up my life-long love of reading again, and have been dabbling in a photo journal of my recent travels. While I definitely won’t be taking up the art of gluing shells on my clothes again, I’m looking forward to the journey ahead and seeing the world in vivid colours once more.

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Photo credits – emiliycornelius1 & ratedmodernart