Saturated with details

Sometimes I find that the world feels saturated with details. Fine grain tiny details, a flood of information.

Each tiny thing is full of complexity.

Each eye view of world is a cacophony of sound and colour, movement, light and texture.

Each object has a hundred possible pathways and uses and histories.

Each human interaction full of said and unsaid, felt and not said, said and not felt – a rich tapestry, a complex exchange with echoes of feeling and meaning that lingers long after the exchange.

Each moment is laden with sensation.

Each possibility is supported by whirling cosmos of reactions and predassessors.

No wonder I like quiet time, my mind and body is often full of sensation and thoughts from the days before. A day with no plans and no people is not ‘boring’ to me – left with my inspirations, impressions and ideas I am swimming around happily between them, and processing, processing, processing.

I could happily chew all this over for a thousand lifetimes.

 


A note to you dear reader…

What is my point in this blog? I don’t know. Maybe I don’t have one. It’s just a glimpse into how life feels for me. As well as being a ‘professional’ offering services I am a human being trying to make sense of existence; what is feels like to be alive, what it feels like to be in a body, what it feels like to have frustrations and pain and inspiration and joy.

I could say that I share this with you because it helps show that I’m not perfect, or that self reflection and acceptance is part of my professional practice, or that bringing our awareness to our minds and bodies is part of what art therapy seeks to do so I’m showing you that I do this too.

But really I share this with you because I felt it and just wanted to share.

And because writing and reflecting is part of my creative practice and you are kind enough to read it.

I offer you these crumbs and hope together we can enjoy them.

I offer you these crumbs and hope one or two of them might nourish you.

I offer you these crumbs and hope that you might feel braver to leave your own small gifts around.

Here’s to crumbs. Here’s to noticing. Here’s to sharing.