As the year began, I shared my feelings on where I was at. Mostly about the unease I felt surrounding what this year would look like and not knowing where my focus should lie. I knew this would be a year of transition. A seven year cycle, clearing out the old and making space for the new. I felt the cycle when we were in New Zealand last year, ending those seven years exactly where they began, with a proposal from the love of my life, closed out with two little boys in tow and having moved mountains on the personal growth front.
This year meant school was beginning for Baker, which would be the most significant change he’s experienced yet, Jones was becoming his own little person, the independence growing everyday and Carl remained as dedicated to his job as always, starting his own business his main goal. For me, the professional front felt ominous. I’ve been enjoying maternity leave since welcoming Jones and have been open about how returning to work made me feel but starting a business requires capital so I reached out to my boss about returning part time. I think I’d geared myself up mentally to move back into that headspace, welcoming daycare back into our lives, time away from the kids, a busier schedule. My meeting at work didn’t go as expected and instead I walked away with a redundancy. Initially, the shock took me. Our financial safety net yanked away while I was casually sipping a coffee on the side lines. But after a few hours, I realised this was the universe. The greater plan. Removing something from my plate I had zero personal interest in undertaking. We’d survive just fine and if I had to get another job, I would. I sat in the ocean that afternoon with Jones, feeling anxious and overwhelmed and desperately needing some grounding. I told him it looked like we’d be staying home together for a while longer and he took my head in his hands and cuddled me. It was all the reassurance I needed that this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
That day felt like the start of something new. It opened up a conversation with my dear friend, Alex, about where I was at with my writing. She’s like my creative sister, someone I gel so well with, where the ideas flow and judgement is nowhere to be found. Now with my “professional” job gone, it’s as if a mountain of creative pressure appeared. The universe clearing my plate but following it up with a ‘you said you wanted to write. Show me what you’ve got.’ After going back and forth about content ideas for my blog, she suggested after all my work writing for The Eye, that perhaps I work on interviewing people about something close to my heart. Reading her text, it was as if a lightbulb exploded. How had I not pieced this together myself? I’ve loved moving into an editorial writing capacity for The Eye, sharing other people’s stories with a community eager to hear. I’ve loved the research element of it, understanding the inner workings of other creative minds, that has without a doubt inspired me more with each article I wrote. And whilst in that work I do get to share how the artist has impacted me or drawing parallels in my life to theirs, I’ve known for a while that I need to have a personal project going on the side. Something that is purely for me, fulfilling my own agenda.
When I think of my body of work, the pieces that have allowed me to connect the most are the ones that required me to be completely vulnerable. To expose my truth, to be raw. To shine a spotlight on my own struggles. And it’s that kind of connection that spurs me the most. I don’t want to skim the surface of this life, to talk about trivial matters that do nothing to expand my mind. I want to talk to people on an existential level, about what they’re really going through. I don’t care for social standing or what you own, I crave truth and experiences that link us together. I want to talk about things that really matter, things that have or could actually change the trajectory of your life. So from this idea, I’m launching an online conversation called The Thread, a space to explore topics that intertwine our lives, where multiple people are bought on board to share their experience and perspective on the matter. This project is going to be a journey, for me to deep dive on subjects I hold close and to share other’s stories with you in the hope it takes us closer as a community and allows us to accept each other and hold space for each other, no matter where you’ve been or where you’re going. I hope you’ll come with me, even if only for a little while.