While asking questions and trying to figure out my “thing” a trip to the circus illustrated a few points about it. The circus to a child is magical and wondrous but to an adult it’s often bittersweet. Our eyes are often on the action outside of the ring, while a child will focus only on the performer. The child is amazed by the clown’s antics, the adult knows the clown is also the trapeze artist and the juggler. So what Click for more
Testing, testing…
According to the Via Me online survey my strengths are love of learning, judgment, prudence, teamwork and fairness. The Strong Life Test for Women tells me my lead role is that of caretaker with an open heart, a chance of being consumed by others feelings and that I should be on or leading a team. My supporting role is teacher, with faith in others, who should be paid to facilitate the success of others. The Primary Colors assessment meanwhile tells me Click for more
Writing from the heart
When I think of my most productive time in terms of creative effort it is slightly contradictory. I produced most but yet produced nothing for publication. In a way it was writing in its purest form, to figure out the world and my place in it. The overriding value in my life was, appropriately enough given the week that’s in it, love. I was newly married. I was exploring the culture I’d married into. I was learning a new language. Click for more
Disconnected
We wait… But We have three 19 litre bottles under the stairs, Another 8 litres inside the house. Drinking water is delivered. Wipes can be used for grubby hands and faces, The kettles are all full. We can cope till the water returns. We wait… But Our heating is an enclosed fireplace, logs stacked since June. The hob works with gas, the spare canister’s full. Torches and radios are tested and working, Phones are charged and spare batteries stockpiled, Click for more
She’s got per-son-al-ity…
A few weeks ago a friend described herself as a Type A personality, while more recently Justine Musk had a post about being an introvert. I knew immediately that I was not the first but very definitely the second. I know, I know there are probably lots of Type A introverts out there but I am not that continuously stressed, need to control type at all. In fact to look at the state of my house you’d say I was Click for more
Inner critic exposed…
This weeks action step for A Year With Myself was to describe your inner critic, something which I did last week. Or rather I described the inner critic’s uglier face, the inner begrudger. So for my action step I thought I’d illustrate my inner begrudger instead. Beware it ain’t pretty!
Censorship
There are lots of things about Turkey and censorship that deserve attention. We could talk about the internet filters that not only catch porn but also some Darwinian websites. We could talk about journalists who write books about shadowy organisations, only to then be arrested on suspicion of being in said shadowy organisation. We could talk about journalists being arrested for not-entirely-clear reasons but possibly to do with their ethnic background. We could talk about the “mahalle baskisi”, the local Click for more
The Tree
I’m not sure if I’ve found my true reflection in the world yet, but I can definitely say it isn’t a tree. The image of the tree that is you, with each ring a layer of your story is wonderful and uplifting but it is too fixed for me. My story is portable. My roots are shallow. I left my homeland for another and though settled where I am now, I really can’t say what the future will bring. Our Click for more
F**k the Begrudger
The last week I’ve been thinking about my inner critic, prompted in part by Tara Sophia Mohr’s blogpost and by her description of her own inner critic piping up in the Global Niche conversation of last Friday night. My own inner critic is pretty close to a realistic thinker. At times it is a little too realistic and needs to lighten up and have some fun every now and again. What I have to look out for is my inner begrudger… Click for more
The Compass
This is inspired by week two of A Year With Myself. Leonie Dawson asks have we found our soul’s compass yet. Once upon a time I had a compass. It looked like this. It was a tool, a geologists compass. Not only did it help to locate me, it also allowed me to make maps, to reveal features that the eye couldn’t see in the landscape. It helped illuminate the enormous forces that shaped whatever piece of land I was Click for more