Creative Cavern

Sometimes life doesn't go to plan

2011-02-10T09:02:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I didn’t realise back in August 2010 that it was going to take so long to blog again. There were so many things in my mind I could have blogged about and I didn’t get around to committing a single one to paper. The ideas have evaporated somewhat and I’m not worried about that, life has a habit of putting things in perspective for you every once in a while; 2010 will go down in history for not following ‘the plan’ (life never does hey?); In the first half of the year, my Nan died, followed a few weeks later by the death of one of my uncles. In the summer I moved house and started a job in the same month (happy but mildly stressful time). In October, things took another dive when I found out my temporary job was to end 6 months early, a month later it snowed, snowed and then snowed some more causing all manner of stress and risk to life and limb.

A full year by anyone’s standard but 2010 hadn’t delivered all of its challenges yet. Two weeks before Christmas I received a phone call that will haunt me for years to come, a call from my Mum to say that my brother-in-law had died unexpectedly. I will never forget the week that followed, and the agony of seeing my Mum trying to be in two places at one time as my twin sister went into hospital for 5 days for a serious operation and, as it turned out, a blood tranfusion. Mum and I did a crazy motorway dash from Cheshire to Yorkshire in freezing fog to visit Helen in hospital, stopping only to pick up tobbogans for the children and some lunch (I've learned that children don't stop being children just because they are grieving). I was given a glimpse that day of what it means to be a parent, and now understand that the hardest part of parenting often happens well after your children have flown the nest.

Two months on, the pain hasn’t eased a single bit, my head still spins and my blood still runs cold just thinking about it…I am well aware that I haven’t even begun to process the grief I feel for my sister Tanya’s loss. I’m also aware that I am using an unbelievable amount of energy trying not to think about my niece and nephew’s loss.

Two days after the funeral, I went to a job interview, and two days after that I celebrated Christmas as best as I could. We are taught from such an early age that the best way to deal with disappointment and loss is to pick ourselves up and carry on. That’s what I’m doing, that’s what my whole family is doing. One day at a time.

Today ‘Hope is where the He:art is’, an art collaboration with my twin sister Helen has become the metaphoric phoenix rising from the ashes of our family’s loss. It feels like a useful way of moving forward and focusing on the future. Our hope is to build a legacy that raises awareness of heart disease and provides a small amount of financial support to our sister and her children, as well as to the British Heart Foundation. You can read all about it here.

June Brought Puffins

2010-08-15T12:12:00.000-07:00

June was a month of adventures, amongst which a fantastic trip to the Isle of May off the Fife coast. It was a magical day, starting with a one hour boat ride from Anstruther. For once, I'm struggling to put into words the anticipation experienced as we set sail and then the sheer wonder on arrival, seeing puffins, gulls, tern, shags, cormorants, oystercatchers, guillimots and even the odd common seal at each turn. Two hours was plenty of time to explore the island and take some spectacular close up pictures of the inhabitants (although we would have happily stayed another two).

I suspect that a trip to the Isle of May might become an annual tradition, just looking through my photos makes me want to go back. I would recommend the Isle of May to anyone who has even a passing interest in birds, it's a memorable day out (http://www.isleofmayferry.com/home.asp).

I'll write about the other things I've been getting up to soon, the next blog post is already forming itself in my mind so you shouldn't have to wait long to find out.

Procrastination & Inspiration

2010-04-29T07:41:00.000-07:00

I’ve come to the conclusion that my procrastination is a good thing…it provides tangible and irrefutable evidence that I am *creative*. Great excuse, I hear you snort, but the evidence is there in cyber-space, in blogs of creative folk across the world, all containing at least one post (frequently several) charting individual battles with procrastination.

This realisation is a welcome bolt of lightning which allows me to accept the fact that despite having ample spare time for creative pursuits, I’ve been the least creative that I could possibly have been. I’d imagined dreamy days creating all manner of arty/bloggy/poemy efforts that would provide a useful (or vaguely interesting) outcome for any hours not spent job hunting. Let’s just say that what I have to show for my time is negligible and deserves to remain hidden in my notebook...I’ve doodled some, written zero poems and avoided blogging until a threat to unfollow me prompted action (harsh but effective). In my defence, several blog posts have been mentally composed but lingered in a dusty corner of my mind, this post has been a scandalous 10 days in the making. I’m at peace with this funk though, because I’m *creative* and this just is a well-trodden phase of the journey. [*update* I got a JOB, woohoo! Oh dear, no excuses now :-S]

Have no fear though, life is not all tantrums and frustration; hours of procrastination has led to inspiration in the form of discovering the insanely (in a nice way) talented and über-modest Andrea Joseph, whose illustrations are delightful and awe-inspiring in equal measures. At first glance, the everyday nature of her subjects disguises the effort and attention to detail in every inch of Andrea’s work; footwear is a noted favourite, resulting in a thus-far resisted urge to go shoe shopping myself (how big is Andrea’s shoe closet?). Any item which falls under Andrea’s gaze - the contents of a handbag, with glimpses and hints of past adventures such as bus journeys, cinema outings or recent vacations, newspaper-wrapped chips or a toothbrush - may find itself captured in the flurry of cross-hatches of a nearby biro (has an opportunity for sponsorship gone unexplored?), resulting in intricate illustrations that most mortals could only dream of achieving.

I have been in love with Andrea’s work since first sight, with an enthusiasm which can only be described as evangelical (I wish I knew more people, I fear friends may soon ban me from mentioning Andrea)…I find myself at a loss however (yes, me – lost for words, I know), how I should describe my excitement and admiration for Andrea’s children’s book project-in-progress; stratospheric? I will happily admit to a sizeable art-crush; I never tire of browsing Andrea’s illustrations and her latest project doesn’t disappoint. This is my favourite picture so far and shows just how brilliantly imaginative Andrea is; who among us would know what a pixie stores in its tall hat?

The point of telling you all of this, aside from sharing Andrea’s work with you, is that against all odds Andrea has succeeded in giving me the courage to attempt to overcome the phobia I have over my inability to draw. It is no mean feat to have inspired me to pick up a pencil and ‘just draw’ without worrying about how bad the outcome might be. Everyday objects seem so much friendlier and less daunting than sketching landscapes or wildlife (my blood pressure rose just thinking about it). Drawing the chaos of my desk or the contents of my handbag feels more accessible, and my first effort miraculously revealed that I can produce drawings that don’t need to be labelled before they can be recognised. It’s early days yet but I’m confident that one day in the short to medium-term future I will post a drawing here that you don’t need to squint or tilt your head at to understand. In the meantime, I’ll share the print I bought from Andrea’s Etsy shop…it is the first of many that I intend to own.

I urge you to explore Andrea’s work*, enjoy losing yourself in meticulously detailed illustrations that will make you smile and shake your head in disbelief. If you can’t justify buying a piece for yourself, you will find yourself working out how many of your friends would enjoy a print for their next birthday. Go for it, it’s a purchase you won’t regret; work this fantastic should to be bought and appreciated. An illustrator which such prolific talent deserves to be recognised and rewarded for their efforts. Indeed, if there is any justice in this world, Andrea’s book will succeed in catapulting her into well-deserved literary spotlight…despite any efforts she may make to continue hiding her considerable light under a proverbial bushel.
*I accept no responsibility for hours lost, art crushes developed or impulse purchases made which result from this recommendation.

The Long Beautiful Winter

2010-02-19T05:46:00.000-08:00

I chuckle to myself each time I consider the irony that I chose the longest, coldest, snowiest winter in 20 years to move to Scotland…I’ve actually loved every minute of it, revelled in the blanket of snow which made my first Christmas here a white one, secretly hoped the snow would never melt. At times it felt as if I was the only person in Scotland enjoying the snow; my own personal Winter Wonderland. What excitement!

Everything looked prettier and outings felt distinctly more adventurous when every surface was covered in inches of snow and ice. Alas, all good things must come to an end, as the saying goes and after a blissful few weeks of ‘Arctic’ conditions, the collective will of the Scottish population took hold and the snow gradually melted, leaving just the odd pile of ice here and there to hint at the chaos that had receded.

I long for more snow. I suspect you’re missing the snow too, although you obviously can’t admit that out loud, after the number of times you bemoaned the difficulties you had getting to work/ home/ the shops / the pub and groaned each time a new flurry of snow fell during a weekday afternoon, leaving you panic stricken that you would get snowed in AT WORK (yes, the universe would be that cruel to you). Have no fear, closet snow lovers, I’ve compiled a small exhibition of my favourite photos of the season for you to gaze adoringly and daydream of snow days and snowmen. Before you go any further, place your thumb and finger over the ALT and TAB keys to expedite your navigation away from this page, lest anyone you moaned to endlessly about the pesky snow should walk past and see you partaking in such a guilty pleasure….Enjoy!

Guest Blog Debut: Child Sponsorship

2009-11-20T02:10:00.000-08:00

This week, in response to a request by my cousin for guest blog entries about child sponsorship, I've taken a departure from the usual ponderings about the journey I'm on and turned my thoughts to the lives of those much less fortunate than me.
It was a pleasure and a privilege to write about the orphanage my Dad built in Kenya. He is an inspiration and living proof that you can do amazing things when you set your mind to it.

Click on the photo to read my entry and the thoughts of others on this touching issue. Please think long and hard about whether you could afford to sponsor a child in Africa. I don't miss such a small amount of money each month and I'm sure you wouldn't either.

Month One in the Kingdom

2009-10-29T09:50:00.000-07:00

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been in Scotland a month already, just moments ago I was leaving London on a fast train whilst my possessions simultaneously sped up the motorway somewhere beyond Manchester. Spectacular dedication on the part of the assembled removal crew meant they beat Mum and me by two hours. The lorry was unloaded and beers in the fridge by the time we got there. How’s that for a stress-free move? It was fantastic having Mum and Dad there, I don’t know how I’d have managed the move without them (and Louis and Ed – haven’t forgotten you guys!). Three short days later, I was waving my parents off, absorbing the fact that I had made my dream move and couldn’t help but wonder what the future holds.

The first couple of weeks were hard going; endless hours of beholding (with shame and desperation) the sheer volume of my worldly possessions, taking things out of boxes…putting them back, moving piles from one end of the room…then back again as I tried valiantly to make a quantity of belongings more suited to a 3-bed house fit into a studio flat. My efforts have been rewarded, I’ve pulled off an incredible feat of logistics and not only found a place for everything I've unpacked, but also housed the myriad of boxes still requiring attention, without the place looking like the self-storage unit of a serial hoarder.

Two weeks in and my flat felt like home, time to relax and start enjoying my time in Scotland. I’d already had my first outing into Kirkcaldy for the spectacle of Big Man Walking 2009. Words don’t do it justice, take a look at the photos on the website, I guarantee you’ll be hoping the Big Man visits your town next year. The following weekend was even more action packed and really made me realise how different living in Scotland will be from the life I knew in London. On the Friday, a trip to Edinburgh with Craig, what a great city! Lunch was a superb egg & bacon muffin in M&S café, a highly recommended dose of food heaven (get there before 12pm, not 12.10pm as we did, and you get a free tea/coffee with your muffin, woo!). Got rather wet walking home from the station, but that didn't dampen our spirits any.

On Saturday it was a visit with Craig to a fantastic farm shop and cafe called Loch Levens Larder for a delicious lunch of baked potato and hot chocolate (is this beginning to sound like a tour of Scottish lunch venues?) before walking down to Loch Leven. It's a picturesque spot that most people can access and enjoy, thanks to a new gravel path laid all along and the availability of electric scooters from the Larder FREE of charge (what lovely people, they do great desserts too!). The memorable moment of the day happened as we were walking along listening to the sound of our feet on the gravel and the pink-footed geese on the loch; all of a sudden we became aware of a wall of noise behind us. We turned to see thousands of geese flying to the loch, such an amazing sight; the whole sky was full of birds. They flew right over our heads and landed in the loch. What a spectacular outing. This is my favourite picture, click on it to visit my Flikr page where you can also see photos of the Lomond Hills which provided a stunning backdrop.

On Sunday, a walk through Ravenscraig Park and beyond brought unexpected delights and unfortunate tumbles on the rocks. Whilst it was chilly walking through the park, it was sheltered and sunny down on the beach, providing an opportunity to spend time sitting watching the waves, guessing at the identity of various birds passing by. A little further along the beach, we realized that blobs in the distance, assumed to be rocks were moving. As we got closer, it became obvious that the 'rocks' were seals enjoying the afternoon sun. In my excitement, I slipped on the rocks and landed in a puddle...splat! I was a bit sore, but my immediate concern was for my camera which hit the rocks hard as I went down (the chilling sound still haunts me). I looked with dread at my camera to assess the damage...beneath the seaweed there were just a few scratches on the zoom casing!!! *huge sigh of relief*. I was soaked and bruised, but continued watching the seals in awe for a while and got some great photos. On the upside, it was a perfect excuse to spend the rest of the day curled up on the couch in my fleecy pjs. The ‘best’ bit about my mishap was falling over with such a clatter 30 seconds after whispering “we have to be really quiet so we don't disturb the seals”. Ach well, it was worth the pain, the memory will remain for a long time. Follow the link on the photo below to see more seal pics.

I'm feeling really settled up here now. I get immense pleasure from the ever changing landscape each time I step outside my door; I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing the sea from the top of my road. The surrounding woodlands are a blaze of Autumn, it’s truly a beautiful time of year to be making my new home in Scotland.

Inspiration to Achieve

2009-10-08T08:40:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder what I would achieve if I lived in a little bubble on my own (maybe with just one other person for company, to stop me going mad). I know myself well enough to suspect it would not be a very productive life; thank goodness for having so many people on this planet who inspire me to do something more with my life.

Years ago, I gave up on New Year’s resolutions. I realised that saying I might try to achieve something in the coming year did not equal getting things done. The familiar sense of failure come February, March, April (you get the idea) as I admitted to my miserable self that yet again I was no closer to losing weight, being happy, being tidy, doing more with my life (the list goes on, I won’t bore you) than I was on 31st December. I have been a fair bit happier since I stopped making yearly resolutions to fail at, so at least one of my goals is a step nearer. I do however still feel the need to have something to aim towards, and I’m in a lucky position to have the time available right now to ponder what it is I want from life. A recent flurry of energy and enthusiasm from my twin, coupled with a chance visit to the Day Zero page of a fascinating Fife blogger (their to-do-list spookily resembled my own mental list) got me thinking in earnest about where my energy should be directed in the coming months/years/decades for maximised happiness and zen-like fulfilment. It seems unfair to credit just two people with this call to action, because I know so many other people who have played their part also. Thank you to each and every one of you (check out the links/blogs I follow, a plethora of creative people for you to be inspired by as I have been).

2009 and Beyond: The Path to Contentment

Lose 14lbs
Find a spiritual path
Find a job I love
Write for at least 30mins every day
Have a piece of writing published
Attend a photography course
Attend a creative workshop
Learn to play (some) piano
See/photograph a red squirrels & seals
Learn chess
Walk regularly
Learn Spanish
Write a novel
Develop and maintain healthy eating habits
Walk Fife Coastal Path
Go camping at least twice a year
Stop shopping at supermarkets
Learn to sing
Learn to knit
Update blog weekly
Increase use of fresh/organic foods
Recycle, Reduce, Reuse
Wear my glasses when reading
Volunteer with a conservation group
Go horse riding
Travel through Grampians/Highlands on a train
Spend a week exploring Isle of Lewis & Harris
Teach myself to play my guitar
Organise and tag my photos
Do a painting
Develop a yoga habit
Develop a meditation habit
Meet creative people (and non-creative, they are nice too)
Learn metalworking
Identify 25 things I like about myself
Buy a sketch pad and doodle/draw until it is filled
Catch the boat from Anstruther to the Isle of May
Use my slow cooker
Join/start a book/doodle group
Do something creative every day
Read the books on my reading list (20 as of 08/10/09)
Visit Hawaii
Visit California
Take a rubbish bag on every trip to the beach
File my tax returns before it is January
Practice massage regularly
Get a library card
Learn to identify trees and birds
Own a craft/book shop
Turn my photos into postcards/cards for sale

There you go, a list of my 50 top priorities for the foreseeable future. Doing all these things won’t fall into place over night, so I invite you to check in regularly to ask me how things are going. One thing I’m certain of, I am going to succeed in achieving the items on this list like no other list that has gone before. It’s going to be a fun journey.

A Spiritual Journey

2009-10-01T06:12:00.000-07:00

I AM...
I am lovely,
I am a guide,
I am an open door,
I am a caster of spells,
I am one, complete as two,
I am a Rescuer of Lost Souls,
I am an adventurer into others' minds,
I am a solver of problems,
I am an oasis of calm,
I am a teller of truths,
I am a creative spirit,
I am a shining star,
I am amazing,
I am reborn.

©2009 Caren Carter

This poem marks the beginning of an overdue spiritual journey, and a turning point in the opinions I hold about myself. A month prior to writing ‘I Am’, I wrote ‘Self Doubt’, filled with negatives and self-loathing. Writing them down was much needed therapy and released me from feelings of failure and inadequacy that haunted me, paving the way for the uplifting and self-affirming ‘I Am’. At this point, I must credit my twin, Helen for handing me 'Poem Crazy' (Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge) to read when I visited her earlier this year, because this poem was written as part of an exercise from this inspirational book. I smile and think ‘WOW’ each time I read this poem, it’s a useful reminder of who I am and the potential I have within me.

Writing ‘I Am’ was like opening a floodgate in my mind, everything in life was suddenly possible, nothing beyond my grasp. A new life stretches ahead, which was previously unimaginable. It seems as if my destiny has become clearer at last (I sense that something big awaits). For a while I pretended that ‘I am reborn’ meant something different and unrelated to God but by the time I had referenced ‘The Universe’ in various conversations for the umpteenth time, I gave in and admitted to myself that I had indeed been reborn spiritually. After many (many) years of denying my spiritual needs, I’ve opened my heart and mind to God’s existence. The inner guidance I experienced and my unwavering belief that moving to Scotland is the right thing to do, have played a large part in this acceptance. I have not lost my mind (regardless of what some may think, judging by the bewildered expressions), and yet I’ve made a series of monumental decisions about my future based on a ‘feeling’ that my future lies in Scotland.

Some 6 months ago, I place a request with the universe that I would find a spiritual path, and that I would find someone to travel that path with. Truth be told, I didn’t believe that my desires would be answered, but I made them known regardless. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, despite feeling a little foolish. I have no idea how long these things typically take, but I would say my request was answered within a month of putting it out there. That’s pretty impressive service, by anyone’s standards! I feel blessed and humbled to have found a companion to enjoy the beauty of this world with, who understands what I’m looking for and wants nothing more than to help me find the answers I seek.

There is a great deal of self-discovery to do yet, before my spirituality falls into place but I am relieved to have the hand of a kindred spirit in mine, as I make the journey. Everything seems a little less daunting when someone is walking by your side, I feel very lucky indeed.

And Then The Journey Really Began...

2009-09-07T13:14:00.000-07:00

TO THE SEA
The sun's warmth fills me with a feeling of inner calm and
Deep serenity floods my peaceful soul
As I stand gazing at the beautiful glistening sea.

My mind drifts endlessly like a boat lost at sea,
The waves crashing in my ears, calling me, calling me
And my soul whispers the earnest reply
"One day soon we will be together".

Every footprint I leave in the sand is like a promise
Of my intention to return for good one day
And while the rising tide may quickly wash them away,
Nothing can erase the binding contract my soul has made with the sea.

©2009 Caren Carter

My second poem was a subconscious request to the Universe from my soul, a hope that I might fulfil my dreams of living by the sea. I don’t remember exactly how long I had been wishing I could make such a daring move – five years or more, I suppose. A childhood of idyllic summer holidays spent on the south coast of England and various seaside trips with friends had no doubt played their part in my fascination with the sea. In addition, the past 18 months have been filled with oddly frequent reminders of the sea in one form or another, rarely more than a few weeks apart. It’s almost as if the sea were building its case against the suffocation of the city in which I lived, by sending me timely prompts and gentle nudges.

In writing ‘To The Sea’, I was creatively confirming my fondness for the sea, and these three short verses irreversibly rekindled my dreams of leaving London. Deep down however, I still believed that this aspiration was an impossible dream. I certainly had the desire burning brightly within me, but I didn’t have any idea of how I could ever make this dramatic move. It was inconceivable that I could relocate to the coast without years of careful preparation and planning. All I knew was that I was filled with passion for the sea and felt I should try my hardest to make it happen ‘one day’, if at all possible.

In hindsight, it seems as if this poem opened a new path for my life’s journey, although I was to remain blissfully unaware of this fact for some months to come. I continued driving myself crazy with daydreams of owning a boat and living in a flat with a balcony overlooking a small harbour. It was not until April that I had a fateful online meeting with a poet who I discovered on MySpace. I really liked his work and dropped him a line to tell him as much. ‘Look me up on MSN, if you want to chat’, I said, completely unaware of how this liaison would change my life. In our very first online conversation, I declared that I wanted to escape the city and live by the sea; ‘I live by the sea’ came the matter-of-fact response. At that very moment, everything seemed to fall into place before me – it's as though I was being guided by unseen forces from then on, reassuring me every step of the way that this was where my future lay; not on the south coast of England as I had always assumed, but 450 miles away on the Scottish coast. ‘Well, soothing inner voices, I hope you are right about this’ was all I could think to myself.

The next couple of months are a bit of a blur, I gradually came to agree with the advice that my inner voices were so insistently playing over and over in my mind; I should leave London and move to Scotland. Just like that, the simplest decision I have ever made, in many respects. I have certainly not had a single moment of doubt about the move, since the idea first formed itself in my mind. Admittedly at times it is all a little surreal and dream-like; especially when I try to explain my decision to other people. ‘It just feels right’ is hardly a rational explanation, and yet I am not at all worried about any of my plans.

So, the dream that I believed to be way beyond my grasp is suddenly in the palm of my hand. It makes me realise how often we hold ourselves back by putting false limitations on our lives. How simple life seems and how easy it is to achieve our dreams when instead of believing what we tell ourselves is impossible, we choose to believe in what is possible and pursue it with a passion…

SOUL MATES: The Poem That Started It All

2009-09-04T06:29:00.000-07:00

How deep is the pool that is your soul?
What harm if I stay a while and
Immerse myself in its stillness?
Dare I dive straight in and risk drowning
Or should I stay safe in the shallows?

Relaxation washes over me in the warmth of your smile
And as the intensity of your gaze engulfs me,
I discover that my own soul is already lost to you forever...

©2009 Caren Carter

This poem is ‘the one’ that sparked this creative journey, allowing me to rediscover the writer who was lost within me. It was the first poem I had written for over 20 years, and was a deeply personal creation, written as a gift for a friend. When I started to share my writing later on, I revealed subsequent poems first, keeping Soul Mates in the shadows until I felt the time was right for it to be shared. I still don’t know why I was quite so protective over this poem. Maybe I was surprised by the depth of feeling within it and by how precious this first poetic effort felt to me. Somehow it felt wrong to expose it to the scrutiny of family and friends in the early days. This piece of work was a piece of my fragile creative soul and I couldn’t risk receiving any criticism of it.

Soul Mates serves as a testimony for the love and depth of connection that can exist when your heart is open to friendship without expectations or demands. A strong bond of friendship and trust has been forged; nothing more than acceptance and understanding required. It’s a liberating experience, providing me with an inspiring model for how relaxed and rewarding friendships can be when you understand each other. Now I endeavour to replicate these qualities across all relationships in my life. I’ve observed so often that friendships can be burdened unnecessarily with unrealistic expectations, leading inevitably to disappointment and I don’t want any of my friendships to ever feel that way. I wonder why it is that we don’t cut each other a little slack sometimes; we would certainly be happier for it. Instead of asking ourselves ‘why did my friend let me down?’, would it be more revealing for us to ask ‘why can I not allow my friend to make mistakes?’. Do you remember how great it feels when a friend shrugs their shoulders and genuinely accepts an apology, instead of making you feel bad for letting them down? Being a good friend is as simple as that, and I’m challenging myself to be that kind of person.

The friendship which has served as such an inspiration also taught me the value of being still and enjoying the calming silence that flourishes between people who are comfortable in each other’s presence. I strive to exercise this skill throughout my daily life and believe that I have become a more confident and contented person for it. I no longer worry about filling silences with unnecessary chatter, revelling instead in the serenity of having a still mind. I try to speak only when I feel that I have something worth saying (friends and family will be queuing up to point out that I have some way to go before I may claim I have mastered this art).

My first poem was written because I wanted to give a friend a special Christmas gift but couldn’t think of anything I could buy which would convey how much they meant to me. It is certainly a monumental twist of fate that my desire to bring pleasure to a friend brought about a creative awakening which promises to bring exponential benefits to my own happiness and wellbeing. My faith in the mysterious ways of our universe has been rekindled; I put a relatively small amount of energy into a seemingly insignificant task and am now reaping rewards far outweighing my investment in creating this poem.

Writing undoubtedly assists me in my quest for inner quietness. I write poems filled with my worries or desires and once I’ve committed the words to paper, I rarely feel the need to continue contemplating the topic. My mind is released for further creativity and more rewarding pursuits. Writing has truly been a gift to my mental wellbeing in this regard. If you constantly find troublesome thoughts buzzing around your mind draining your energy, I would urge you to pick up a pen and notepad and start writing. You will be surprised how therapeutic committing your thoughts to paper can be. You may succeed in releasing the writer trapped within, as I have done.

A Creative Journey Begins

2009-08-22T09:26:00.000-07:00

Behind every blog, there is a story about how the author came to be sharing their innermost thoughts with the world. The story of my blog is a tale about an adventurous, creative individual who got lost and forgot where they came from…As with all good stories, this one has a Beginning, a Middle and an End. No, hang on a moment…I’m getting carried away; It doesn’t have an end because it’s the story of an epic journey that will probably take a lifetime to complete. Who knows? I may never reach the end of this journey and I’m totally OK with that. One thing of which I am certain however, you are very welcome to join me. Is it promising to be an interesting adventure…

The Beginning:
What seems a lifetime ago, I was an adventurer and a dreamer. I was fearless, curious and creative. I planned to explore the world and be everything that I knew I could be (I remember wanting to be either spaceman or dog, I don’t recall having a preference). The universe had no limits back then and I felt happy with my place in it. But as we all know, epic journeys are rarely straight forward and this one is no different. One day a while back, I’m not sure when, I stopped being an adventurer and forgot about the dreams I had. I became a thinker. I thought too much, too often, too long and too hard. I never stopped thinking, my mind was constantly abuzz with activity and the world seemed an exhausting place to be. Worst of all, I no longer went off on adventures, not even in my mind…The adventurer in me was lost and fear of failure stopped me doing the things I had once dreamed of. Life continues without the dreams and so on I went.

The Middle:
As luck would have it, for it makes for a far more intriguing tale, it was a chance meeting in a rather uninspiring pub in Middlesex which proved to be the catalyst for change and brings us to the middle of this story. A visit to an open-mic night resulted in a fateful meeting with a rather bohemian looking chap with untamed curly hair and sparkling eyes. His appearance caught my attention the moment he entered the pub and I uncharacteristically opened a conversation with him when he paused near me at the bar. “Hi, I’m Caren. Nice to meet you” I said, boldly. He regarded me curiously and smiled whilst shaking my hand and introduced himself too. Shortly after the formalities were done, he uttered an innocent enough sentence which proved to be ‘the moment’ my life began changing irreversibly; “So, you look like you’re creative…Do you play an instrument?” “Oh no, I’m not creative at all”, I said, laughing at his comment. And then came the killer blow: “Everyone has some creativity inside them”, came his straightforward and earnest response. So that was it…A creative life reborn from a chance meeting with an artistic soul who saw creativity in everyone he met.

I didn’t feel or suspect the power of his words immediately, I was too busy being pleased that my recent revamp had resulted in a ‘creative’ image. I did however start thinking that he was right about the creativity I had within me…I loved to write and draw when I was younger…Why did I ever stop doing something that I enjoyed so much? When did I start denying my creative nature? So, the wheels were set in motion; I resolved to spend time nurturing my creative side and return to writing or at the very least doing something vaguely creative.

A few months later, I finally put pen to paper, driven by another seemingly random event, to attempt to write a poem (my horoscope told me to write a poem for a friend who I didn’t know what to buy for Christmas). I didn’t expect that I could do it, but something was telling me that I should have a go anyway. So, I wrote a poem. It took less than an hour and I thought it was pretty good for a first poem, I astounded myself. Within days came the next poem, and the next…Very soon I had lines of new poems leaping into my mind as I went about my daily life. I would frantically scribble them down, or type them into my mobile phone…Just as long as I captured the words before they evaporated from my mind. The moment I got home, I would look back at what I had written and from there a new poem would form itself on the page, like a creative miracle unfolding before my eyes.

Then came the brave part, I started showing people my poems. I started small at first…Just friends and family who were pretty much obliged to tell me that they liked what I had done. They said they liked them, and it didn’t seem as if they were just saying it just to be polite. They really seemed to enjoy my poems and they expressed genuine admiration that I was writing ‘such good poems’! I was writing poetry that other people enjoyed and admired. I couldn’t believe it, I was feeling rather blessed.

Finding that I could write poetry was amazing, but that is just the half of it really. I have yet to share the true miracle of this story; After a few months of writing, I suddenly realised that my mind actually felt quiet and still for a change…I wasn’t constantly thinking any more, I no longer endlessly pondered every aspect of my life, seeing problems at every turn. Something in my brain had been switched off and in doing so, my mind had found the space to rediscover its creativity. Poems that flowed from my heart, outpourings of feelings and past pain, provided therapy that I had searched and searched for but never found. I was writing poetry which I never imagined might be within me and at the same time I was healing the wounds of my past. I had gone from feeling ‘rather blessed’ to feeling truly and utterly blessed that this gift had been released from my depths.

Not the End Yet:
Now I’m a writer, a creative soul, an intrepid adventurer, and even a mischievous pixie when the mood takes me. These things were in me, buried deep beneath layers of self-doubt and fear. For so many years I tried to be something I was not, to be the person I had come to believe I was. Somehow though, I knew something was not quite right with my world…I felt out of balance, anxious, as if something was missing. Until recently, I had no idea what was missing, but there was a palpable sense of lacking nonetheless. I may have forgotten who I was and how I wanted to be, but somehow my inner being never forgot and it was putting a lot of energy into making sure that I knew I was missing out on my creative destiny.

Until recently, I was still clinging to the old habits of limiting my potential by telling myself and others that I ‘cannot’ do certain things…”Yes, I’m doing well at writing poems, but I think I would struggle to write a novel…and I most certainly cannot draw to save my life” (DoodleManifesto blew that one out of the water, now I believe I can do anything), “I would love to leave London and live by the sea, but I don’t think it will ever happen”. Then just 4 short months ago, things changed again (I am in awe of how the universe does these things)…Another chance meeting, this time with a writer whose work I liked and admired very much, led me to joining a forum where I could post my poetry to a wider audience and receive admiration from people who were not obliged to be kind. Confidence in my abilities is growing daily, as a result of the positive feedback I have been getting. The same chance meeting planted the seed of an idea which I previously thought impossible…I could leave London and live by the sea, all I had to do was make the decision and then get up and go. Would the world stop revolving if I quit my job and my flat and move 450 miles to Scotland? A lifetime ago, I’d have assumed that it would stop turning, but now I know it will not. In a seemingly irrational fit of impetuosity, I have done exactly that, and news flash: The world did not stop turning, it has carried on, oblivious to my actions. I am fulfilling my dreams and heading to Scotland to lead a creative, spiritual life by the sea.

My adventurous and creative self has been reborn and I’m feeling truly alive. My journey stretches ahead of me and I’m striding along the path with energy and optimism. I’m so glad you’ve decided to join me, I will enjoy having someone to share the excitement with...