Gentle

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

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Holding time

Holding time. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Holding time. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Every day I hold time.

My fingers tips pressed together holding a gentle, warm ball of time in the space between. Long and slow time.

A fire along my arms and neck and eyes and rapidly typing finger tips. Impatient and rapidly evaporating time.

A single hand, kind, tea cup circle of time.

Twenty minutes of anti-gravity time slowly falling from the ceiling down into my back. A broad surface of spreading time.

Leg pumping, moving through space, aerobic time.

Feet, hands, back, arms, belly, legs, head, full body. Time making sound.

Stitching time, patiently.

All of me dancing time.

My fingers tips pressed together holding a gentle, warm ball of time in the space between. Long and slow time.

Every day I hold time.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,333

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Mean and funny v’s good and generous.

Mean and funny v’s good and generous. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Mean and funny v’s good and generous. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I have a reasonably quick wit.

When I was younger it would get me into a bit of trouble at times.

Because, for whatever reason, the ‘immediately funny’ view of a situation can often be the mean view of the situation.

So, I’ve learnt to forgo the laugh in order to remain true to my belief that seeing the good, the possible…the generous view of a situation is the kinder, more productive and more appropriate approach to just about everything.

Occasionally I fail at this. Mean and funny out competes good and generous.

Damn it.

I’m sorry about that. I really am.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,310

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I lack perfection.

I lack perfection. Drawing Luke Hockley.

I lack perfection. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I lack perfection.

I don’t know why this comes as a surprise to me.

Over and over again.

I’ve always lacked perfection.

It’s never been any different.

Would I even like how perfection felt if I did, miraculously, achieve it?

I don’t think I am actually in pursuit of ‘perfection’.

I hand sew things because I love the imperfection of it…but I do try and sew as perfectly as I can…whilst choosing contrasting fabrics and cotton that highlight any imperfections that exist.

Hmmm.

It’s imperfections in my personality that I find the hardest to manage.

I appreciate how my hand sewn imperfections can be endearing…but my quirks of personality?

I find those much harder to highlight and embrace.

Could I, possibly, highlight and embrace all the things that make me imperfect?

It sounds good in theory, but the reality…

I wonder.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,301

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Tucked in.

Tucked in. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Tucked in. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I remember lying in bed as a child listening to my family talk happy noise as I pretended to sleep.

I remember how safe and at home it felt to have that chaos so nearby. Not having to be a part of it but being a part of it anyhow.

A party for no particular reason other than it's a Friday or Saturday night.

I probably slept on my parent’s lap at the pub, or on the couch at my cousin’s house. Carried to the car, cuddled all the way home and then put into bed.

Tucked in.

Night.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,278

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A little slower.

A little slower. Drawing Luke Hockley.

A little slower. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I’d like to look forward and plan my next few months a little better.

Specifically, I’d like to look at the time that I have more control over and make some choices about what I want to do with that time.

I have this picture of sitting and sewing as I listen to stories.

Simple really.

I think it requires me to take the foot of the accelerator a little though to make it happen.

It’s been a big start to the year.

I think taking things a little slower would be nice right now.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,277

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 thing I think I need to look at.

The thing I think I need to look at. Drawing Luke Hockley.

The thing I think I need to look at. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

The thing I think I need to look at is not necessarily the thing I need to look at.

Because sometimes looking very hard at the thing I think I need to look at is just a way for me to get better at worrying about the thing I think I need to look at.

At these times, I’ve learnt, the healthiest thing to do is to look at something else. Almost anything else will do.

Then the thing I think I need to look at can have a bit of time outside the spotlight to sort itself out and work out whether it really, actually, needs to be looked at.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,271

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Gentle steps.

Gentle steps. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Gentle steps. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Looking at things from a different view.

Literally.

Sitting and writing today from a new spot, seeing a different view as I do something I do a lot.

It’s delicate, this thing, whatever it is, that I hold…or that I think I hold.

Fragile.

Being alive. Consciousness.

Ah, what a blessing and a curse.

Joy and hurt.

Gentle steps from here.

Gentle steps.

Love

Luke

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Day 1,268

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Chosen family.

Chosen family. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Chosen family. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I spoke to my beautiful friend Billie last night.

We’d been trying to connect for weeks, without success, and then finally the stars aligned.

It’s comforting to be back with someone who knows me so well. Who loves me so deeply.

Her little boy asked if “Luke was our family?” 

“Why, yes…he is”

We are a part of each other’s chosen family.

Which is an honour for me.

A real honour.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,267

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Some simple things.

Some simple things. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Some simple things. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Some simple things.

The condensation on the inside of the kitchen window.

Putting a log of wood into the fire.

The sound of the heater.

Thick socks on a cold morning.

A stack of clean dishes waiting to be put away.

This week’s food cooked in a day.

Doing the next thing on the list.

Writing my daily letter.

Some simple things.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,266

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.