Hurt

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

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

Day 1,345

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Recovery.

Recovery. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Recovery. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Recovery.

Slow and grumpy.

Wanting to be somewhere I’m not.

Accepting where I am.

An odd pleasure in having to slow down.

Recovery.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,340

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Ouch.

Ouch. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Ouch. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

The other day a good friend of mine hurt their back at the gym. They’d called to talk to me about something else, a life question, a weighty one…but the back thing had just happened and we started with that.

I can’t help myself. Having spent so much time working through injuries (so I could keep working/dancing) and with a life long obsession about how movement works I dove right in.

“I reckon it’s good to go into Old Person mode. Treating yourself kindly, but not too delicately, robust old person mode. Move as much as you can, but no more, for the next 24-48 hours. Heat and cold? Everyone has different theories. This kind of injury in a back I reckon a bit of ice on the actual site, but really small amounts of time (3-5mins max), but keep everything else warm. The body is seizing up to protect itself. Moving in a limited range as much as you can (essentially don’t “test” the injury, to see if it is still their) keeps it safe so you can warm everything else up to stop the seizing…Don’t worry the thing, trust that it will heal, don’t pull on the knot by telling a story to yourself that makes things tighten…”

Yep. Pure advice. Possibly a little unsolicited…though gratefully received.

As our conversation progressed onto my buddies ‘life questions’ it became clear how the things, the incident in the gym, my proposal for how to respond, the life questions and the possible response to those all kind of lined up.

So curious.

The very good news is my friend woke up the next day feeling pretty good. Maybe our chat, or something else helped? Or just the ongoing mystery of the human body in action? Who knows?

Today, at the gym, I lifted a heavy thing and hurt my back.

Ha!

So, it’s time for me to take some of my own advice.

I do wonder, though, is this injury a metaphor somehow for what’s going on in my life? Is there something for me to discovery here about how I might approach the challenges and opportunities I face?

I wonder.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,339

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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

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

Day 1,310

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Looking at now.

Looking at now. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Looking at now. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

When things don't work out the way I had imagined it is easy to know what I should have done but not so easy to imagine what I should do next.

I think it is profoundly unhelpful to churn over all the pieces for the sake of churning over all the pieces…but what to do with all that stuff?

Is looking forward even helpful?

Maybe it’s about looking at now?

Maybe that’s all I can do with all that I have done?

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,282

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Not on my feet.

Not on my feet. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Not on my feet. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I am not on my feet.

I feel all disoriented, discombobulated.

I don’t understand how all the bits fit together.

I don’t get how to make sense of it all.

I just don’t get it.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,275

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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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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

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

Day 1,266

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Nebulous and sharp.

Nebulous and sharp. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Nebulous and sharp. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Life is fleeting.

The edges and shape of it are blurry and ill defined.

It is painful and joyful.

All at once.

Generous and selfish.

At the same time.

A moment crystallises and then evaporates.

Nebulous and sharp.

What next, then.

What next?

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,260

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I can’t believe I’m back here.

I can’t believe I’m back here. Drawing Luke Hockley.

I can’t believe I’m back here. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I’m concerned that I have started repeating the same letters to you.

I sit down to write and when I think of what I’d like to write I often think…

“Oh, that again…I can’t believe I’m back here.”

It’s one of the more disconcerting things about this daily project.

There’s nowhere for me to hide from myself.

Here I am. Every day. Checking in.

I see patterns in myself much more clearly than I might have.

But also, sometimes I’m still lost in those patterns and can’t see any rhyme or reason to them.

I know they are repeating. I know I am back at some familiar and uncomfortable place…but don’t know exactly how I got here and what might help me get out of here.

I guess I have some more clues. I have a broader sense of what is going on. It has been about 3 years now of daily writing and it just surprises me that I am still repeating the same things with only a little bit of extra insight.

Shouldn’t I have myself all figured out by now?

Ha!

When I see that written down I get how that sounds.

Being a human is a complex, long term project.

That’s it.

That’s just how it is.

Strangely I find some comfort in that.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,225

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.