Create First.

I open my iPad in the morning to check up on something and emerge hours later after falling down the rabbit hole of the internet. Again.

I try not to be too hard on myself. Social Media is designed to draw us in, to keep luring us back, to reward us for liking, clicking, scrolling, swiping. It is designed to turn us into addicts.

I take steps to minimize this influence in my life. Notifications are off. I keep my iPad and laptop away from the bedroom. I still don’t own a smartphone.

And I still find myself distracted more often than I’d like.

Starting my day on the computer or tablet is productivity poison. I am swept away by a deluge of bad news, nasty people and comparisonitis.

Checking my email first thing sets me up to be in a reactive mindset for the rest of the day, letting my inboxes dictate my to-do lists for me.

I relied on this so heavily last year that I started to forgot how to create for and from myself. Creative juices and muscles shrivelled away. Finding my way back to my own creativity, bringing something new into the world, fleshing out my own work instead of gorging myself on inspiration porn, has been incredibly hard for me.

 

Right now, I’m trying to raise my standards for myself.

Create First.

Share Second.

Consume Last.

 

Working to build this little mantra and habit is helping.

First thing, before I check my inboxes, I try to create something of my own, no matter how small. Even if it’s just three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness journaling. It might be a small sketch. Or a blogpost draft.

But I create.

 

Second, I share.

I am notoriously crap at sharing and promoting my work even if it’s crucial to my business. I do okay on word of mouth referrals, but I’m crippling my own potential by not putting more of my work out there.

Sharing comes second, whether it’s something I created that day, or something older I want to showcase.

 

Only when I have done those two things do I get to consume.

It’s never perfect.

I still fall down the internet rabbit hole, but now I end more days knowing that at the very least I have taken steps to bring something of my own into this world first.

And that can make all the difference.

Minimalism Game – Wasted

January 2018, I completed a 31 day challenge where you throw out one item on the first day, two on day two, three on the third and so forth.This was inspired by The Minimalism Game, my Mum and I just extended it for an extra day. 496 items later, here’s what I’ve learnt.

*

“It’s a pity though,” she said. “All that food going to waste.”

I’d just told her about helping my parents purge six shopping bags full of food stuff from their kitchen, most of which was past the sell by date.

Way past the sell by date.

 

I absolutely agree with not wasting food, but I’ve come to realize I’m actually wasting more food by hanging on to the old stuff.

Food that is 3, 6, 8 and more years past the sell by date is already wasted.

Keeping it means I can’t see what is in my cupboards that is still usable.

Keeping it means I am buying duplicates because I can’t find things I thought I had.

Keeping it means things get lost behind crap and end up going to waste along with it.

I am wasting more food by not throwing away what is already wasted.

 

However.

Letting go of it I am now able to use up what is actually usable.

I am able to cultivate awareness of what I do and don’t need and am now able to shape my  buying habits accordingly.

I’m buying less.

Using more.

Cooking is more fun, organized and pleasurable.

I’m more likely to cook that fancy pasta because I actually remember it’s there.

I’m using the special sauce because it’s not hidden behind 20 jars of jam I don’t eat.

Meals feel more special every day because I’m actually able to use some of the fun, fancy and exotic ingredients I was previously unaware of.

 

Food waste is a terrible thing and I try my best to keep it to a minimum.

But keeping food that is older than my little brother isn’t going to suddenly make it usable again.

It’s just taking up mental and physical space.

I’m trying to learn from the things I wasted so I don’t have to waste more of the same in future.

And admitting to myself: “No, I probably do not need three pots of shrimp paste.”

Minimalism Game – Fantasy

January 2018 I completed a 31 day challenge where you throw out one item on the first day, two on day two, three on the third and so forth. This was inspired by The Minimalism Game, my Mum and I just extended it for an extra day. 496 items later, here’s what I’ve learnt.

*

Oftentimes what is hardest isn’t letting go of an item itself, but disentangling myself from the identity I have attached to it.

Items I have purchased and kept for an idealized, romanticized version of myself.

I would like to be the kind of person who uses those cute heart shaped silicone shapes to make pralines for her boyfriend (who actually isn’t that into sweets, and would be way more excited about a good steak).

I would like to be the kind of person who romantically sits on the couch leafing through her cookbooks, but the reality is I have better shit to do and there’s an app for that.

I would like to be the kind of person who creates amazing mixed media art with all the wonderful art supplies she has, but the reality is my preferred medium is pencil, paper and some watercolour.

I would like to be the kind of person who fills myriads of beautiful handbound notebooks with prose, but the truth is that fancy notebooks paralyse me, and I’d prefer to just scribble around in a 50ct writing pad rather than risk marring those pristine pages with something mediocre.

I would like to be that person, but the truth is:

I’m.

Just.

Not.

Those things belong to a romanticized vision of the person I would like to be, but can’t be arsed to become.

Letting go was painful, because letting go meant admitting “I am not that person”.

The first time I experienced this I was clearing out my room after finishing school and came across a box of magic tricks for kids. I’d owned it for years and barely used it. I was in love with the idea of being able to do those tricks, but it dawned on me that I didn’t want to spend the days and months and years it would take to actually be moderately proficient at that skill.

I would rather be enchanted myself than spending my life perfecting my sleight of hand to enchant others.

I would rather find joy in actually cooking than in thinking about cooking.

And I would rather have fun making good art on crappy paper than never making any art at all because the paper is too good.

496 items later, I haven’t missed a single thing.