Growth

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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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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I long for New York and a Ben hug

I long for New York and a Ben hug. Drawing Luke Hockley.

I long for New York and a Ben hug. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,
I just spoke with my mate Ben, who lives in New York. It has been over a year since we spoke.

Our friendship is blessed with that comfortable ability to be at a distance without us becoming really distant.

Like all things it needs attention to keep the thread connected, it was time we spoke.

Technology has done so much damage, I know, but one of its most valuable attributes is its ability to bring the vibrancy of a New York soundscape at 7pm on a Friday into my Saturday morning  lounge room in Melbourne.

We’ve known each other since we were in our very early 20’s...We’ve reached the stage now where we are starting to notice the marks of time upon our lives. Both our physical and emotional worlds...the things to celebrate, the things to lament but also embrace.

Thinking about it now I long for New York and a Ben hug.

A barely known adventure of a city and the comfort of someone who doesn’t know the latest ‘drama’ in my life and so, therefore, knows me all the better.

Someone who has seen me ‘at it’ long enough to appreciate my small, complex, contradictory, but ever inching forwards, progress, failure and success. And a city that is the perfect back drop to long, meandering conversations about that adventure.

Randomly, many of my friends are travelling, or living, outside of Melbourne right now.

Unusually the space, this distance, helps me appreciate them more right now.

Normally this would be a moment of intense loneliness. 

Not so...

Perhaps this is a mark of some internal change, dare I say progress... 

Yes, let’s say it’s that.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,341

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It’s complex being a human.

It’s complex being a human. Drawing Luke Hockley.

It’s complex being a human. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

It’s complex.

Being a human.

Managing the wildly contradictory but simultaneously accurate states of being the centre of my own world and of being a small insignificant atom in the broader universe.

I am contradictions.

Lots of them.

Often times I don’t know what to do with that.

Being a human.

It’s complex.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,317

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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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Nothing left to give…?

Nothing left to give…? Drawing Luke Hockley.

Nothing left to give…? Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

One day, quite a few years ago, I was sitting on the step to our bungalow in our falling apart rental in Northcote enjoying a bit of sun when our cat, Mamma - who died a few years ago, came up and started rubbing against my legs.

My endless jar of honey had trained her to be brushed at the back step with a special brush…and she loved it. So, she was pretty insistent.

I was very frustrated.

I couldn’t be bothered.

I was tired and a bit over it and just wanted to sit in the sun and recharge.

Later that day, when my endless jar of honey arrived home, I complained to him about all this…

“She just kept insisting that I pat her…and I just couldn’t. I just didn’t have anything to give her!”

He looked at me, patiently and said…

“Maybe it’s not about what you’ve got to give her…”

Ahhh….of course.

This lesson, that I am deeply energised by giving what I have to other living things, comes back to me again and again.

One more reason to be grateful for the endless jar of honey in my life.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,305

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Enjoying success.

Enjoying success. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Enjoying success. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I have a long-standing tradition of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Not letting myself actually enjoy the good things that I am experiencing.

But I can feel that starting to shift.

Things are good, and I’m kind of enjoying it.

I’ll take the win.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,304

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.

Life, it’s a delicate process

Life, it’s a delicate process. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Life, it’s a delicate process. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Life, it’s a delicate process.

Negotiating with myself and the world to try and get through each day with a bit of joy, humility, gratitude and appreciation.

I like to remember to see the small wins and not amplify the losses.

That’s a real artform.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,303

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.

Could I, would I?

Could I, Would I. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Could I, Would I. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Could I, would I, be able to really like myself?

Would I focus on the half glass of my personality that is full?

Could I be my own best advocate?

Would I find my character flaws endearing?

Could I like the cracks and imperfections?

Would I stand up for myself when no one else was around to stand up for me?

Could I? Would I?

Love

Luke

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Day 1,302

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.

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

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.