These shapes at the bottom right became a shoal of fish in my mind. Once they were realised, I saw that they were swimming through a very strange landscape. It made me think about what becomes normal for us. We're not really aware of the air we move through until it becomes scarce or contaminated.
What has become so normal that you're oblivious to it?
Not my words, but those of Michele Cushatt on the(in)courage website. Great blogpost. I think the 'relinquish' part is the hardest and the most needed. We often carry way more than we need to or should.
I couldn't get this page to go in a direction I liked. There are so many layers, and each one I was dissatisfied with. Whatever I added didn't work for me. So I took a photo and turned it to black and white (it helps to see the balance). It needed more light around the flower/sparkler motif, but whatever I added didn't brighten it up. The paper just seemed to soak up whatever I added.
Then I realised that this is how I'm feeling at the moment - a little dimmed. I'm not feeling at my brightest. I'm tired. I know all the reasons why this should be so. So I take naps and take it easy and know that this season will pass.
When you want things to move, to change, you have to put energy in. It's hard work, and you might not feel up to it, but that energy gets things moving. Once whatever it is you want to move is moving, it gets easier. But that initial heave is hard. You're exhausted with the effort and can see very little reward.
Hang on in there!
Momentum will build if you put in the hard work at the beginning.
There's a calm spot on this page. In the middle of the storm of pattern and colour which seem to provide a lot of noise, there is a quiet place.
I love the colour and energy in this page, but I'm glad for the quiet spot. It draws the eye. It provides focus. There are no words on this journal page - maybe I'll add some later - but I love it just as it is.
We are entering the silly season. On Saturday there were so many things that I could have attended in preparation for Christmas, all happening at overlapping times. And it will only get worse as we get closer to December 25th.
Yet Advent is supposed to be a time of waiting, a time of preparation, a time of contemplation. When life is busy, it is important to embrace the moments of peace when they occur, or even to carve them out for ourselves. After all, Christmas is all about the arrival of the Prince of Peace.
This page looked stormy to me. There is light, but it's behind some rain and dark clouds. It made me think about how we weather storms and push on through to the light again. Mostly we do it by travelling with God, with friends, with fellow travellers. No-one should have to weather storms on their own. Stomping through the rain on your own is very different to stamping in puddles and laughing at the ridiculousness of how wet you are with someone else.
Who can walk with you through the storms you're facing today?