Birth month

Birthday in August is, quite frankly, between you and I, for all the glamour of summer and for all the opportunities sunshine affords, on some level quite sh*t.
People are invariably some place else. Or “unavailable” because they are about to leave for some place else and that absorbs their time and thoughts and your birthday is an inconvenience.
People are busy with their summer plans. And their summer thoughts. And their summer lives.
Birthday in August has the potential to be a rather disappointing, ”flat tyre” affair.

There has never been, nor there will ever be, a way to be with all the people I would hope to be with on my birthday.
Not gonna happen.
Ever.

And that’s just how the cookie crumbles.
There is absolutely nothing that can be done about that.
I learnt that round about 1st grade on my very first school summer break.
A life lesson that hasn’t changed as the years roll on.
With time I’ve gotten used to it so my hopes are never that high to start with.
Expectation adjustment is a real life line.

So the temptation always is to fill the day with activity if it cannot be filled with people.
I am never. ever ever. short of idea. At least God placed me, in August, quite near the source of the ideas spring. It does not dry up. Something inside tells me – it never will.

So this time round there were plans for bit of swimming, and a treetop adventure, and slap up lunch, and cinema or an escape room, and sleep, and an online class, and nature walk, and idle time in London before the theatre….
 
I am not going to lie – my mind was 100% on overload with options.
Trying to work out how to squeeze it all in. Do loads. Make it count. Coz, it’s – you know – the birthday.

Until I decided to cut it.
To actually do little.
Only what leisurely fits in a day, but mindfully. No pressure. No rushing. Just the fun bit, right-sized.
The good news: it does work, It absolutely does.
Doing little, whatever feels right at that time – that still makes for a memorable meaningful happy day.
Helped by the generosity of spirit of some (Thank you!) who remind you that you are appreciated regardless of where people are. And much loved.

And so it goes.
 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (and if you are August-born: I feel your pain. Which is why stretching it is how it goes. It’s not a birthday. It’s a birthmonth. And every little special thing that you do for the rest of the month is, you know – part of the celebration. Just keep doing a little every day and when you total it all up at the end of the month you will be amazed at the enormity of it. Doing little. But special. Nearly every day for a month. A totally fitting way to celebrate an August birthday)

To know your people

Love of words often makes me dissect them.
Yesterday for the first time my mind randomly and without warning dissected “Folklore”.

A bit obvious but I had not thought about it before.
“Folk” means people.
“Lore” means knowledge.
Which is what it is.

Folklore is about getting to know My people.
And within that is an incredible journey of getting to know hidden parts of myself too.

I find my land’s folklore fascinating.
It touches me in a way absolutely.nothing.else does.
It is rich beyond comprehension and varied beyond one’s imagination.
It allows me to sometimes transcend – an extra-odrinary experience I now know to crave.

And at the core of all of that is just love.
Much Love.
For myself and for my people.
Beautifully simple.

Much Love,
Eliza Do Little (but to know your people is one of the things worth doing)

Creativity takes courage

A year ago I put out my first post on this blog.

The intention was to blog once, mostly on Sundays, mostly without any planning, mostly minimally – the time it takes to drink a coffee on a lazy weekend morning. One reread. One edit. Maximum two. Done.

It sounded and it sounds easy. Simple. No effort.

But I have to admit that doing that took and takes a bit of courage. A hell of a lot at the beginning. Probably a bit less but still some now.

It is uncomfortable coming out centre stage. It is not necessarily easy to dare to share creative output with the world. There is fear lurking in the shadows about public reaction. About it turning out wrong. The shame of it. About coming across stupid. Or misunderstood. Or laughed at. Or ridiculed. Or shut down. Or envied. Or criticised publicly. All of the above in one.

“Creativity takes courage” (Matisse)

It really does. I can tell you that much.

But I am committed to making the conscious choice for creativity in my life. And if courage is what is required I will continue to dig deep to find it. Every time. Even when it is uncomfortable to do so.

Unshared, unrealised, untried seems too big a price to pay as an alternative.

There is literally nothing else to do.

So I choose to do little. But do it. Take the risk. Find the courage.

I can report it is gratifying.

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (whatever Your Creativity is asking you to do, whatever it is whispering in your ear – I hope you’ll do it. I hope you find the courage. And I hope to be there to witness it and back you up and cheer you on. In fact I promise to do that. It’s the little I can do but it’s a promise)

The day after the day before

As the days roll we tend to move on from one thing on to the next and the next and the next, feeling “inefficiency” guilt if we don’t.

Without leaving buffer time to do little in the space between. To process what just happened. To sit with. And swirl in the memories. To squeeze every last drop of the joy and contentment and happiness that was gifted us.

It’s the ultimate short change in life. And it is self imposed.

Because so much wanderfull-ness is to be had in the buffer space just after something good happens, if you allow yourself to savour it.

Rushing on to the next thing just totally kills it and it can never be reclaimed again. You can’t ask for it back. No correct change to be had. No refund. No exchange.None of that is ever possible.

The buzz, the adrenaline, the sweet intoxication, the quiet calm no-movement lushness of still nearly feeling it as if you are there – that wears off with time. And if you don’t give yourself the space and the time to do little but be there again – in your heart and your mind and your soul – then it’s gone and you’ve lost it and what you are left with is a sort of more reserved more detached processed version of a memory. A still print. No longer vibrating in quite the same way.

Because you can never go back to the hours just after you’ve run your first marathon, or after he finally kissed you, or after you found out you got accepted, or after you just handed in your resignation, or after you really really laughed out laud at that party.

The day after the day after is just not the same. It is only The Day After where it can be found. It just does not last beyond two sleeps.

So if yesterday was wonderful, I hope you took time to sit with that today.And if today was wonderful – make time to sit with that tomorrow. Give it love.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (especially the day after. You will not regret that, while the alternative you might)

I don’t need a bigger house. I need a bigger life

There is an element of safety and comfort that comes from having your own house, I am not going to lie.

Of course, it is all a helpful illusion, because I don’t really own it. The bank owns it and I am simply renting it from the bank to the tune of 25-30 years. They call the shots. The rate. The conditions. But it’s a comforting illusion to subscribe to.

There is also an element of envy or wishful thinking or both that I experience as I drive through an affluent street and the big-windowed swanky houses that line it. It is part  architecture appreciation. But hey – part of it is also about “what if… wouldn’t it be nice…..”, I am not going to lie.

But when it comes down to it, I don’t want a big house. I would much rather have a big life. The thought of “a lot”-ness overwhelms me.

A lot to build.

A lot to borrow.

A lot to pay.

A lot to fill with a lot of things.

A lot to shop for.

A lot to care for.

A lot to clean.

A lot to maintain.

A lot to worry about.

Ideally, I would like to wake up on a Sunday morning and not think about any of those things.

Ideally I would like to wake up on a Sunday morning and think about where I am going for the day, meeting who, seeing what, traveling how. And I want to come back on a Sunday evening to something that is rightsized, cozy, easy to slip into, paid for, uncluttered, simple and beautiful. Something that requires little doing to.

May be I will.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (for by wanting less you have more, that requires little doing to – an overall better package).

Choices

May be there are times in life when nothing happens.

Mostly, I find, there are times in life when there are too many things going on. I am often presented with many options. Sometimes too many.

Sometimes I have to make choices between really quite appealing propositions. Like:

• flying overseas for a school reunion, with people I have not seen for years (and whom I would very much like to catch up with);
• driving (and for me that bit is important) to a new place for an event to see and experience new things and be with new people;
• the prospect of a Eurovision song contest party (always a hilarious delight, year after year);
• celebrating a year of having found something in my life that moves me…

 

I am not going to lie – I antagonise long and hard over choices. I sometimes lose sleep.

 

In the end of the day yesterday I chose what my soul desires the most.

In the end of the day I chose what brings me most Joy.

Even though I am nursing an injury of sorts and could not really even 100% give myself out this time, when I stopped to listen to what my heart really truly desires I knew what it is I would do.

 

To be honest – that’s how I’d like to live. Always. Doing little. Only the one thing that brings me most joy.

Because it does.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (choose just the thing that brings most joy)

 

 

What if the party stops?

On Friday morning I woke up faced with the real possibility that I may not be able to dance again like I have been, like I so much love and like this would be a Big Deal.

There had not been a fall, or a trip, or a foot put wrong the night before. Not a particular split second event I could blame it on. What had felt like a weird feeling (possibly pain) had grown to inability to move my leg almost at all when I woke up.

It automatically meant I would not be able to dance that day. Disappointing. It automatically meant I would not be able to dance at the festival I had travelled to. Bummer.It potentially meant I would not be able to dance in London in two weeks time, or in Lefkada in a month’s time, may be for months, may be forever.

It felt that big, and not for the physical pain.

I had to sit with myself and these thoughts and the prospect of torn this, that and the other, and these consequences and who knows – may be surgery and months of recovery, and the ‘but why me?’ and the “but why now?” and the “but why??”. There is never an answer to these questions, is there?

I had to squint my eyes at the future trying to see what it might be like if I was to take out that part of my life. What I might be able to replace it with? Could it actually ever be replaced with anything? How big would the void be? How unbearable? For how long? Not happy ruminating, I can tell you that much.

And in all the Googling symptoms and possible causes and treatments, and calling doctors, booking appointments and taking painkillers I knew in my heart of hearts that if that’s how the cookie crumbles there is little.I.can.do.about.it. In fact nothing. There is no space for heroics. If that’s where I somehow got to I’ll just have to be in that place despite all the deep love and longing I may have about being somewhere else.

There are times when we are faced with our own limits. It’s a quiet place. Deserted.

If you are in that place, I send you love.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (I had to do absolutely nothing but rest. Somehow the strain or injury or whatever it was has eased off. I hope to be able to dance in two weeks time. But I haven’t quite left that place. It’s possibly given me a different kind of body focus. I don’t like it. But I have no choice but sit with it and do little)

Not a chocolate egg in sight

Today is my Easter.

I love the fact that it has never been and never will be about chocolate eggs.

 

On my Easter we do real eggs.

We paint them in pretty colours.

We draw on them and decorate them and enjoy being creative with the process.

We then connect with family and friends for an egg fight – what is essentially an opportunity for play with our closest. And a bit of laughter. And exchanging good wishes.

There is no Easter Bunny. There are no presents.

 

My Easter is entirely stripped of consumerism. It is pure.

I love that. And I take pride in that.

 

And may you all be blessed and have a year full of creativity and playfulness and laughter and people who feel close and only that which is real and cannot be bought with money.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (may be only do that which is real)

​

Fill me up

It does not require much to fill me up.

It is that simple.

 

May you see the smiles.

And may you hear the laughter.

And may you be a part of it.

 

That’s all there is to it.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (but see the smiles for that will make you connect to your own happiness 🙂

Sunsets and Sunrises

 

There is something breathtakingly complex yet simple about sunsets and sunrises.

Not man-made. Entirely. A purely spectator notion.

Indescribable colours variety every single time. Day after day.

Beautiful beyond what any words or film can capture – a futile attempt if tried.

Freely available to you every single day of your life. Almost. Unless your life is mired in thick clouds. Or your mind in grey absent-mindedness.

It only requires of you one thing: to stop and do little except sit quietly and look at it. Today.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (but make time for your sunset and your sunrise. Everything else can wait. You will feel so at peace with yourself after that you would wonder why you did not do it yesterday and vow to do it tomorrow and every day forevermore)