Tag Archives for Mindfulness

Gratitude and Creativity: Instagram

Last year in October, I joined the InkTober challenge. To fully participate and share what I drew each day I set up an Instagram account. Since then I’ve been using the app a lot. No, I’m not posting selfies every chance I get. It turns out that Instagram doesn’t only cater to teens and millennials and has more depth and purpose than posting vanity shots. Although, if that’s why you use it I’m not going to judge you for it. I’m sure if I felt healthier I’d probably post more than a few.

 

 

So, why have I continued to use it? First off, it’s an easy and somewhat addictive app to use. Once you select a few users to follow you’re sent suggestions for users with similar profiles e.g. photographers or news feeds. I can, and have, spent hours flipping through the feeds of some interesting people and organizations. National Geographic is one of my favourites because not only do the photographers on assignment post breathtaking images, the information accompanying the photos is informative and educational – I’ve become aware of some alarming global issues through that feed. It’s also a forum where I can easily post from my phone by adding short captions to photos – usually of my doodles –, which was great when my laptop died on me recently.

Apart from the ease of use, through Instagram, I’ve discovered so many things and people I would have had to search tirelessly over the interwebs or travel to find. Sure, some of them are things I never knew I had any interest in, but I think that’s what keeps me going back. For instance, I have discovered artists that work with materials and methods (pointillism, block printing, collage, linocut and chine-collé) I would never have imagined to create some of the most strikingly beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Whether they are starting out in their careers or seasoned experts, the commitment to their craft(s) is incredible to witness. I’m able to see the creative process of these artists and see how their work evolves over time.

Because of the window Instagram provides into who they are, I now own a few pieces of the artworks created by some of these incredibly talented people. Being stuck at home, as I am most of the time, the app is giving me the opportunity to virtually “travel” to meet and connect with these people so I can bring the beauty of their creations into my home. This is yet another thing I’m realizing I took for granted when I was healthy: going to galleries or interesting shops where I could find small treasures, which is now available to me in a way that doesn’t feel as impersonal as visiting an internet auction site.

Also, for someone like me who only uses art as a way to cope with illness, seeing all this talent is motivating me to continue my creative learning. I recently joined a weekly Instagram challenge called ‘IF Draw A Week’ that provides a drawing prompt for what to draw each week and then post it with the challenge hashtag. Along with my regular doodles, I hope this will be another way for me to improve my skills. If not, at the very least I have another outlet to connect with people while I pass the time.

 

 

If you’d like to see what I get up to on Instagram click here: @mysmallsurrenders

When Someone Shows You Who They Are…

“I don’t trust you,” she said coldly. The same person I recently held in my arms while she cried and told me her troubles said those words to me.

I’m never going to forget being told those words because I have the kind of memory that stores information with great detail and rarely dislodges any of it. My earliest memories were created when I was a toddler and I still see the things, people and places in them as if I interacted with them yesterday – much like I can see this person on the playground of our elementary school. Sometimes I wish my memory didn’t work this way but at other times, now for instance, I’m glad I rarely ever forget. I’m glad because it ensures that I won’t allow myself to be caught in another web of deceit like the one made by a person who chose to abuse my friendship and trust.

As an adult, I’ve been accused many times of being naïve and too trusting of people, especially those I allow into private areas of my life, and with whom I share the most intimate parts of who I am. That characterization may not be too far off, but I prefer to look at it from the perspective of trusting until I’m given a reason not to trust. I approach life that way because it takes too much energy to walk around suspecting that every person one engages with is going to harm you in some way. The never-ending hypervigilance and suspicion would surely make it impossible to enjoy one’s life, and could, quite possibly drain you of your will to live.

Besides, when someone betrays or deliberately hurts you, it’s the unmasking of who they are. Therefore, it has no bearing on your character. Furthermore, when that same person has the audacity to mockingly ask, “What are you going to do about it?” in relation to the action they have taken against you; or “Who do you think you are?” after you call her or him out on their vile behaviour; it’s further evidence that they were never worthy of your friendship. Words and behaviour like this also makes one realize that the air of toughness someone might have projected for years, is just the lack of a conscience and the inability for her or him to form genuine human connections.

In the end, one must decide what bearing such a betrayal is likely to have on any kind of relationship continuing to exist. In my experience, that chance arcs sharply towards zero, because in all likelihood, there may be nothing to salvage. After all, it would be more than naïve to allow any person who treats you so poorly to get that close to you again. And if there’s any doubt about this decision there are always these wise words from Maya Angelou to remember, “When someone shows you who they are believe them; the first time.”

When Someone Shows You Who They Are

 

Mood Soothing Blooms

Yesterday I was having a tough day, with respect to pain and mood. Of course, in my case, one feeds the other and sends me into a downward spiral of agony. The day had started reasonably well – even though I hadn’t slept much the night before – then an abrupt about-face came because I was angered by something someone said to me. I know that becoming angry doesn’t work in my favour – it never has –, but controlling one’s temper isn’t always the easiest thing to do.

With the hope that it might pull me out of my prickly mood, I practiced a guided iRest meditation, but my mind kept skipping out to engage with other thoughts and memories. I had, however, committed at the beginning of the meditation to accept whatever might show up during my practice so I didn’t stop before the end of the recording. When it finished I was grateful that I worked through it because, as I usually do, I felt sleepy. I was able to fall off to sleep for about an hour until my slumber was interrupted; first by a phone call from my pharmacy and then immediately after hanging up, by a heavy knock at my door.

My annoyance was elevated again because the short sleep hadn’t helped to reduce my pain, so walking to my front door was more than uncomfortable. I was further annoyed when the person hammering my door refused to identify himself until I opened it. When I did open the door, he asked me my name from behind what appeared to be a box overflowing with shocking pink and white tissue paper that he handed to me. Because I was still somewhat foggy with sleep, I almost lost my balance when the weight of the box shifted to my hands. When I shut the door, I was a bit confused by what had just happened because I wasn’t expecting any deliveries.

Mood Soothing Blooms

The overstuffed box of tissue paper turned out to be a beautiful bouquet of a dozen assorted roses. The timing of their arrival couldn’t have been planned more accurately. I knew who sent them as soon as I ripped off the paper and saw each beautiful bright bloom and I was so grateful they arrived when they did. The flowers lifted my mood and proved to be a welcome gift of distraction from what I was feeling physically and emotionally. I know they were meant to be a Valentine’s Day gift, but they delivered a more meaningful message by arriving a day early. They remind me that even though others might engage in negative behaviours, which I sometimes allow to affect me too deeply, there are always those who love and value me for who I am.

Thank you B!