Anticipation

Arrival.

Arrival. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Arrival. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Scatter, scatter.

I ping pong my thoughts from rapid place to rapid place.

Solving small parts of many different problems in quick succession.

Never arriving, never landing, never seeing something through to the.

End.

I crave that long slow time.

I crave that place I get to where I am breathing into this thing I am doing.

I crave arrival.

Where does that live?

It lives in how I approach the thing I am doing.

It lives with me.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,348

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Older.

Older. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Older. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I’m noticing myself getting older.

I keep seeing a metaphor of an old chipped tea pot.

Well loved, functional, stained full of memories, comforting.

There is no getting around time.

I’m not sure if I ever thought there was.

As I get older it becomes clearer that enjoying the spoils of lived life…well what other choice do I have?

To fight is futile. Isn’t it?

The risk of all this “acceptance” is that I subconsciously begin to accept other people’s ideas about what getting older means.

The world has a lot of ideas about all of this that hold no interest for me. But it is easy to start thinking in those frames when they are communicated so clearly and with such strength.

(I know I’m not ‘old’, I know I’m ‘in the middle’, I’m saying older…we all get older every day)

The remedy to all of this is being in this moment.

I am this being, right here, right now.

I can do and say and think the things I can do and say and think right now.

That’s it.

That’s all of it.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,346

Show your support for Dear Self by becoming a monthly supporter of my work or by buying some stamp money. Your support

Beautiful but damaged.

Beautiful but damaged. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Beautiful but damaged. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I had a bad dream last night.

A house that was haunted, but beautiful, but damaged.

We wanted to live in it.

Reimagine it.

Reinvent.

Restore it.

I felt frightened that the house was too damaged to regenerate.

But moved into it anyway.

When I woke up, I could feel the house was me.

That the haunted, damaged past was part of the beauty.

I could see that ghosts of events that happened through me are not me.

A kind piano to play,

in the corner,

sings the darkness away.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,345

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The dread worm.

The dread worm. Drawing Luke Hockley.

The dread worm. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I am holding in my left hand, which is thrust deeply into my left pocket, a sense of something. Weighty and foreboding.

I find that I can, occasionally, open my palm and take my hand out of my pocket and do what needs to be done. But this sense of heaviness remains stagnant in my pocket, nonetheless.

Randomly, more often, I take my hand out of my pocket and look at it. I sense the gross, dull life form squirming inside my clutched fingers. But I don’t seem to be able to will myself to unfurl my fingers and look at it directly.

Not yet.

Generally, it appears about 24 hours before I am able to look at it.

And so, for a day or so, I live with it.

For about a day, or a bit longer, or a bit shorter depending on the circumstances.

Uncomfortable and awkward and uncertain and icky.

When the time has passed, I take my hand from my pocket and stare for a moment at my fingers and then, like a dive into cold water, open them and place the thing on the table in front of me.

A grey, fleshy, smooth skinned worm squirms upon the table.

I can still feel the dread that it emanates seep into my now empty palm, into my pocket, through my bowels and up into my chest and back of throat.

It’s the dread worm.

And I don’t like it.

It wriggles benignly on the table and I look at. Eventually I do what I know needs to be done and I reach out and touch it.

In what is always a surprise, which means it should never be one, I’m taken aback by its response.

This time the surface where I touched it changes from its morbid grey into a late day sunlight orange.

As I continue to touch and get to know it a little better it starts to morph and change shape. It becomes playful. Joyful.

This transformation is rapid.

And accelerates, almost without me noticing.

Soon it has transfigured itself into an entirely different animal.

A new one every time.

In this process there are awkward moments, painful ones even, but also funny and light hearted and inspiring ones.

And soon enough it has run off and become a thing in the world that has little to do with me anymore.

Mostly it’s a good experience, mostly.

And then I wonder, as I watch it run away, I wonder…why don’t I remember this feeling of lightness and relief when the worm first appears clutched inside my hand thrust into my pocket?

How come I can only feel the dread at that moment?

What I would like is to be able to feel the dread worm appear and know, inside my bones, that this too will turn out ok, even if some bits of the experience are less than ideal, in the end I’ll probably have a reasonably good time.

That.

Next time.

I’ll work on that.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,332

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Slow down.

Slow down. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Slow down. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Slow down.

No, slower than that.

No, even slower than that.

No. Really.

Slow. Down.

Really.

Actually.

Just.

Slow.

Down.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,322

Show your support for Dear Self by becoming a monthly supporter of my work or by buying some stamp money. Your support means I can keep doing the things I do to make the world a better place.

Enjoying all the things.

Enjoying all the things. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Enjoying all the things. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I have a lot to do and only a limited number of days to do it in.

And, I’d like to enjoy all those things.

Ok, that’s good to note. All these things are things I have chosen to do. They all make the world a better place, so – well worth the effort.

Then, once they are all done, I’m going on a holiday!

So, do lots of great things you love and then go on a holiday and have fun.

No problems.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,308

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When the weight lifts.

When the weight lifts. Drawing Luke Hockley.

When the weight lifts. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I’ve been working through a whole bunch of things of late.

Life things.

Choices that I have.

Different roads I could go down.

Opportunity.

Which is all great. Except choices can sometimes lead to long periods of uncertainty and indecision. Which can be a bit weighty, at times.

Then, when the time comes, when the universe magically aligns and I’ve thought about things enough, from enough angles…the weight lifts.

Oh, the relief.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,306

Show your support for Dear Self by becoming a monthly supporter of my work or by buying some stamp money. Your support means I can keep doing the things I do to make the world a better place.

The easy road home.

The easy road home. Drawing Luke Hockley.

The easy road home. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

It feels like there is a possibility I won’t get this letter written today. 

Its late in the day. I’ve been on the road since 6am. And I have nothing, absolutely nothing of any value to say to myself. 

Hang on.  

That can’t be true. 

How about...sometimes its ok to take the easy road home. 

Love  

Luke.  

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Day 1,295

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The only way to find out is to ask.

The only way to find out is to ask. Drawing Luke Hockley.

The only way to find out is to ask. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Sometimes I have imaginary conversations with people in my life.

It’s usually when things haven’t gone well, or I haven’t heard from someone in a long time and I seem to be trying to fill in the gap of what the other person might be thinking.

The problem with these thought experiments is that, even though I’m in charge of both sides of the conversation, I can find myself believing the other person has said or at least thinks the things I have imagined they are thinking or saying.

Of course, none of this is real. I am filling a gap here by making up both sides of the conversation.

The only way to find out what someone is thinking is to ask them.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,292

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Grab the baton and run.

Grab the baton and run. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Grab the baton and run. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I remember running relays when I was a kid.

I don’t think I was particularly good at it or anything…but I really liked that feeling of someone running towards me with the baton, my only job was to be ready to grab the baton, run and then cleanly hand that baton on to the next person.

Any double guessing or mucking around at the moment the baton was coming towards me was futile and, quite possibly, a dangerous distraction.

Just be ready, run in rhythm with the person carrying the baton, reach back and grab that baton and run.

Right now, I think I might benefit from this approach in my life.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,284

Show your support for Dear Self by becoming a monthly supporter of my work or by buying some stamp money. Your support means I can keep doing the things I do to make the world a better place.