This weekend I have been thinking about how far I’ve come.
Tomorrow I turn thirty and can’t wait – I am so ready for the next milestone, ready to turn the page and find a new chapter. The book of me still feel likes it has a lot of pages left in it so fingers crossed that’s the case.
As an early birthday surprise my best friend took me for a ride in a VW campervan – we’ve been obsessing about the vans for years and have fun memories of hiring, travelling and sleeping in them together (and breaking down in them together which is all part of the experience really).
As we cruised through the Warwickshire countryside in Polly it was the perfect journey to reflect on my own life journey too. As we looked out at the springtime countryside that’s finally starting to bloom I thought about how the last thirty years around the sun have led me here, to this very moment. Around half-way through month-long social-media detox, I was able to enjoy all of this completely free from snapping, sharing and hashtagging. More to follow on that when I reach the end of that experiment.
What else have I been doing with the hours gained from the lack of scrolling in my day to day routine? Well, I’ve published my first collection of poetry so that deserves a little ‘yay’ in my head.
I’ve finished some excellent books this week too so I need to pass these recommendations on if you’re looking for something new to read:
- Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman
- The Taste of Blue Light by Lydia Ruffles
- The Day the Sky Fell Down by Siôn Smith
- Sunflowers in February by Phyllida Shrimpton
I’ve also been taking photos of wildflowers on my new 1960s analogue camera and typing away on my new 1940s typewriter. I’ve been getting lost in processes and not thinking about the results. I’ve been spending time with friends and family, smelling my birthday flowers, writing in my journal, doodling. I’ve finally started to get into the flow of my novel.
Shit is happening.
(I’ve also got a horrendous cold but we’re not talking about that.)
I’ve just made a note of a line I read yesterday in Sunflowers in February – the book tells the tale of a young girl who is in an accident and experiences the aftermath of her death as a spirit who wanders around, unnoticed and lost. Only in death is she is able to really look at her life and the still moments that go unnoticed when we are alive: “When did we stop noticing everything? When did the wonder of it all fade away?”
I don’t want that to be me – I want to notice the wonder now, whilst I am still here and breathing.
Today I am listening to this because it’s a pretty good campervan song: