Pressure

Frightened of buttonholes.

Frightened of buttonholes. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Frightened of buttonholes. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

I’m frightened of doing the buttonholes on the shirt I am making.

They are kind of irreversible.

Once the fabric is cut (which you do as you start making them) then there is no going back.

It feels like I could really stuff this up.

What if I get it wrong and all the hours of sewing this shirt are for nothing?

Ah, that’s interesting.

I’m worried about the outcome…which is the opposite of how I approach making a shirt.

When I make a shirt I’m most interested in the process. I encourage myself to let go of the time it takes me to do make it and how the shirt will look in the end…and just do this step, now.

I find making shirts such an interesting metaphor for my life. I avoid getting things wrong, which means I find finishing things I really care about can be difficult. It’s ok to get things wrong.

Ok, it’s time to make the buttonholes. 

If they don’t work, they don’t work.

At least I will be moving forwards.

Love

Luke

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Day 1,281

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Certainly unexpected.

Certainly Unexpected. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Certainly Unexpected. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Life is certainly unexpected. 

It seems like things are travelling in one direction...and then the wind changes and things are heading on a totally different course.  

That’s all.  

Love  

Luke.  

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

Day 1,280

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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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Sometimes it hurts.

Sometimes it hurts. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Sometimes it hurts. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Sometimes I wonder if I am up for managing the breadth and intensity of the ideas I have for changing the world.

I feel a bit like a ghostbuster who is trying to control one of those big streams of light without crossing the stream with anyone else.

I see what needs to be changed, I have a sense of what that might look like, I imagine a way that could happen, I throw it out into the world…and I try and manage the chaos of that as best I can, doing as little damage to myself and those around me.

But I don’t always succeed.

Sometimes it hurts.

Which makes me feel like pulling back and hiding.

And I don’t know what to do with all that.

Love

Luke  

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Day 1,274

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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

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

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

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

Day 1,266

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Phew.

Phew. Drawing Luke Hockley

Phew. Drawing Luke Hockley

Dear Self,

Phew.

I made it.

Now it’s time to slow down and enjoy a couple of days at my own pace.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,249

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Every precious moment.

Every precious moment. Drawing Luke Hockley

Every precious moment. Drawing Luke Hockley

Dear Self,

I know, I know it is such an outrageous cliché…but at the moment I am intensely aware of every precious moment that I have.

I’m curious about how to both be light and not let anything slip through my fingers.

How to experience everything, but not strangle it with a focus that is too intense.

Life is a gift. I want to experience that gift, but not spend nights sleepless around what I am experiencing.

There is something important going on for me about living it to the full in the day time and then sleeping soundly each evening.

I sleep much better than I used to. But I notice that when I am deep in a new adventure, when I am learning and discovering something about the world and how I want to be in it, that I can get restless at night.

I’d like to live my life to its edges. Which means hitting the pillow and sleeping soundly.

I think that’s my new goal.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,246

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It’s a lot.

It’s a lot. Drawing Luke Hockley.

It’s a lot. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

It's a lot.

A lot of amazing…but a lot.

Just need to remember to keep it on the down low whenever I can…so I have a chance to regenerate during this busy time.

So that a lot doesn’t become too much.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,242

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Anticipation.

Anticipation. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Anticipation. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

Before the thing happens there is all the thinking about the thing.

The good and the bad.

The expectations and hope.

The anticipation.

Even though the thing, in the end, is never much like all the thinking thought it might be like…the thinking is still an important part of the thing.

The anticipation makes up a part of what the thing is and will become.

That’s just the way it is.

Love

Luke

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

Day 1,218

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.