I’m noticing more and more that things come in cycles.
I don’t know whether this is because I’ve been taking the course FLOW by Claire Baker, which is all about journaling around your menstrual cycle or simply because I’m paying attention. (I want to talk about the course I took in a seperate blog post because it was all sorts of eye opening).
I’m thirty years old now and my life has undergone some drastic changes over the past two years. When I look back to what I was doing two years before, I feel as if I am unrecognisable to my former self. Then I started noticing something…I haven’t been discovering a new me.
I have been rediscovering parts of myself.
I find myself pulled back to all the things I used to love doing as a child. Ten-year-old me loved to play and write and create. She loved witchcraft, making potions in the bathtub, acting out plays with Barbies and Polly pockets…she made up stories all the time.
I think my favourite lie I ever told my classmates was that we once went on holiday to the sun. I was five at the time.
I don’t really think of it as lying though, I thought of it more as creative storytelling. Younger me was an energetic child that lived in an imagined world more often than not. Stories could be found everywhere: under rocks, up a tree, behind the plug socket. I once spent an afternoon convinced there was a whole world of marine animals living behind the plug sockets if only I could find a way to access it.
And, I don’t know. It was fun to live that way.
The things that I am beginning to do now in my daily life are reflections of my childhood pastimes. In slightly different ways.
I’m writing again, which is this big, huge relief to me. I never knew how much I missed it until I started committing to it regularly again.
I make my own chicken broth and have learned snippets of herbal medicine (ginger for stomach aches, turmeric for inflammation, garlic for colds etc.) – this counts as potion making yes?
I am trying to create a capsule wardrobe. This feels oddly reminiscent of having a school uniform. And the simple truth is I loved having a school uniform. Not because I didn’t value individuality, but because it took any decision out of getting dressed, it felt like it leveled the playing field – everyone met on the same terms. So I’m trying to get that little bit of decision freedom back.
I am journaling, which is similar to the daily diary writing I did when I was younger. My first diary was a furry zebra notebook with a padlock, the next was a denim diary with mirrors stuck to it. They continued to be more and more outrageous until I transitioned to online diary keeping.
It has always felt natural to document my feelings, my thoughts, my life…and I think when I was younger it was just that. Natural. There were no expectations attached to it, no greater rational thinking aside from the fact that I wanted to do it.
Then it started to feel overly self-indulgent, or self-obsessed. I started to develop this idea about what writing meant for me and believing there was always something else more important to do. That writing was never going to be “of use” to me so I shouldn’t spend my time on it. At some point, I started to believe that no-one wanted to hear my voice.
There is a similar story behind all of these things I used to love to do. Somewhere, somehow…I just forgot.
Then slowly, over the past two years, they have trickled back. Tentatively reaching out to me and I have been tentatively reaching back.
I am trying to welcome these old joys with open arms. Without attaching my formed thoughts of expectations and productivity.
The cyclical nature of things means it might change again. I might cycle out of these loves if they no longer serve me. I might fall back in love with something else I’d forgotten about. But I’m trying to take comfort in the natural cycle. That I am finding what I need to find at exactly the right moment.
I’m trying not to bemoan lost time, but instead focussing on the refinding. The rediscovery. It’s a beautiful thing.
Have you rediscovered anything of late that you had forgotten?