forming new paths...

 ...still one of my favourite photographs, crumpled poppies. 

...still one of my favourite photographs, crumpled poppies. 

I know, I've done it again. Because I've been happily absorbed in organising and hosting my first workshop. And I've been writing quotes for photographic work. And thoroughly enjoying consulting. And taking time out for myself everyday. That's plenty, I've realised. Plenty. And each time that I sat down to write and share images from the trip here, I became stuck and disinterested. I had assumed that I would write a chronological order of events in Europe, but that's where I became blocked. Something rather significant is changing in me, or opening, I think, rather than changing - like there is space again for a part of me that has always been there. My love of finding new paths, stepping off well-beaten paths, and creating jungle paths that are full of wonder and surprise is emerging. Perhaps my method of journalling is changing - opening up -  in this way as well. I find myself not wanting to do things in order. Not wanting to conform. Because I look around and I see order, prettiness and neatness, and the more I see it the less I desire it for myself, the more I crave the haphazardness, the layering, the mystery and newness. Sometimes I get down on myself, that I haven't become 'that blogger' over the years that everyone follows, that I haven't formed into a mummy blog or design blog, food or lifestyle blog. That I haven't stuck to a formula of writing or sharing photos of everything I'm doing everyday. Sometimes I get down about it, but was that ever me anyway? Am I sad about the loss of self or loss of an illusion of self? Yes, the latter, it is loud and clear. 

So perhaps today I'll lose more readers because I'm not doing this cleverly and people want clever and predictable. Am I going to be okay with it? Probably not. But I'm aware it's part of the process, and I will need to learn to accept it. 

I'm honest, vulnerable and raw, I've always been that, and I always will be. I don't need to feel ashamed for it anymore. 

Oh, the freedom in that acceptance. The wonder in the unknown. Whatever will I write next...