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)

 

 

When people spoil the picture

Less than a month ago I stumbled upon footage of what I thought would be visually spectacular.

It turned out the display was in Paris where I was about to go. It turned out it was largely “Sold Out” but that they had limited availability on the day I had time to spare. Even when that plan fell through because of an Eurostar strike and my heart sunk a little, there was still one more slot left, the one and only, that we might be able to make if we arrived on time. And we did. And I loved it.

This whole thing started my fascination with Vincent Van Gogh.

I don’t get The Sunflowers. They don’t move me. But I discovered I had always loved The Almond Blossoms without knowing it was Van Gogh, the shoes series and the two Starry Nights. Especially the one over the Rhone.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it and looking at shots of it over the last month. On Friday I saw it for myself.

It is stunning.

So stunning, I actually cried. The blues of the sky are so unbelievably beautiful and so unbelievably varied, it’s unreal.

I sat opposite it until near closing time, often by myself as the crowds thinned, until I was able to see the constellation of stars for what it is. And until I had drunk enough of it visually to think “ok, that’s enough”. I love it.

There is one thing about this painting I don’t like: the people.

It’s like there was no need for these people. I really wish they were not there. I wish it was just the sky and the stars and the reflections on the river. The boats are ok. The people aren’t. They kind of spoil the picture.

Often times random people come into the picture and mess it all up. No matter how much I wish they hadn’t, they come into the picture and spoil it for me. Random people. People. They have that capacity.

After I calm down (and that may take some time, and I am sorry for overreacting) I realise there is little I can do about what other people can do to my picture perfect. There is little I can do about other people full stop.

The only thing I can do is keep looking at the parts of the picture I love. So that’s what I am choosing to do.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (and if possible – ignore the people who don’t matter in the grand scheme of things; just look at the big picture – it was and still is amazing)

And if in Paris in spring 2019, go and see the Van Gogh display – I loved it, it’s worth it: https://www.atelier-lumieres.com/

 

 

On journeys

Sometimes you think it will not be enough. That time is too short. That there would be more possibilities than what you could fit in. That you would be left wanting.

But the truth is that when travelling doing little is just enough.

Seeing images you’ve been wanting to see and be wowed by, visiting a place you’ve been wanting to visit and sit quietly within, hearing music and feeling the body move like you planned, staying safe, and being with the people you wanted to be with. That’s right-sized. That’s enough.

To fill full when you travel you only really need to do little.

Doing more might have choked it all up.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (because the travelling itself is enough)

Frustration is the catalyst for change

Exactly a year ago I experienced a blip. A hard-going dark “how can this be” dip. I felt an undercurrent of frustration. Not even an undercurrent. A tide.

Because I felt on the outside looking in.

Because everyone was dancing except me and I could not understand how can this be.

I felt the blip quite deep. I sat in the dark place for a week. It practically floored me, which surprised even me.

I chose to voice it. I chose to shine a light on it. I chose to take some actions.

I had grand plans for grand actions I will take. In the end, life took over and I was only able to do little.

But somehow within the space of days I was doing it. I could do it. Somehow it was no longer a problem. Somehow it just clicked.

I don’t think it was anything major that I did. Except get super frustrated about it. Frustration is the catalyst for change. Every time you get super frustrated, something changes.

A number of things probably changed from the force of my frustration. I am not entirely sure how it all lined up.

But I am no longer on the outside looking in. The tide turned.

Now I am dancing. Not a little. A lot.

A year on, last night, that’s exactly what I did and like every time I’ve done it in the last year – it feels amazing.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (but oh boy, feel the full power of your frustrations; let them propel the energy behind change. Then just sit and watch it happen)

Homeland

Today is my homeland’s national day.

I am 2,500 km away. And have been for the good part of 20 years.

But I will never stop being a part of.

i don’t have to necessarily engage in a grand gesture to mark the day. I can may be cook some traditional food, and put some folk music on to dance to, and think some thoughts of home as I browse some old albums, and may be that’s enough to feel touched and attached.

It takes very little, no effort at all actually, to connect with things that you carry in your heart.

And that’s how it will always be.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (and may be nothing at all to feel at one with the land you come from)

To the power of 2

Generally big projects, big dreams and big understakings are overwhelming. Which is why a lot of them never happen – it’s difficult to know where to start and it is difficult to sustain belief that one little tiny action is going to help you get there.

DIY your own kitchen is overwhelming. Decluttering all your possessions is overwhelming. Going through all your print and digital photos and organising/discarding appropriately is overwhelming. Starting a YouTube channel is overwhelming. Writing a book is overwhelming. Learning to play the piano so that you can sit at St Pancreas station and play for passers by outside the Eurostar lounge is overwhelming. Learning another language is overwhelming. Training for a marathon is overwhelming. Learning all the steps is overwhelming. Diving on the North Circular through the Hanger Lane roundabout for the first time is overwhelming. I mean, basically, what is not overwhelming.

But one thing I have discovered and see time, and time again the success of, is the beauty and power of sustained small actions. 10 minutes of sifting through photos; 1 lap round a tiny park; buying the paint from Wickes; listening to Italian on the radio isn’t. Overwhelmingly big projects, big dreams and big understakings are made up of a string of surprisingly easy little actions. Just the next right thing. The next 10 minutes. The next conversation. The next Google search. The next booking a lesson. The next drawer to go through. The next telling people about it to make it more real. The next booking time in the diary. And the next writing slot over coffee. I have discovered that essentially it is that simple.

Overwhelmingly big projects, big dreams and big understakings are made up of a string of little steps, walked consistently over a prolonged period of time. Once you get that, the problem really shifts to maintaining momentum. A prolonged period of time can be as long as a piece of string. Unknown.

Which is where the power of two comes in.

In the past two-three years or so I have discovered the power of pairing up with people to just check in and share plans/report progress on things I want to move through. It is a sort of human cheer-leader support group type of thing. The other humans don’t even necessarily have to do or say anything. They don’t have to have any opinion on what I am doing or planning to do. They don’t have to advise (in fact that’s not on). They don’t have to do anything. Just to receive me and my commitment to the next tiny action. Consistently over a prolonged period of time.

I have found this to be most effective in shifting chronic procrastination, in shifting “never starting”. As well as, surprisingly, most effective in reigning in my massive bouts of overdoing (where I would start a project and get lost in it until exhaustion and totally running out of steam and grounding to a halt or loosing the Joy piece).

Another human, a buddy, an action partner, a co-traveller, has beaten as a tool in project progress my own self-motivation, self-talk, self-praise, self-support mechanisms (that really could be quite often rather ineffective; or of limited shelf life effectiveness capacity). Other humans do not seem to expire as quickly as my energy or enthusiasm do.

Pairing up with other like-minded humans has worked wonders for me. Wonders. Don’t know how. Don’t know why. But wonders. Seriously. Even when the choice of humans has been entirely random. From decluttering, to visions, to improving finances, to creative projects, to learning a new skill  – it has worked in any area of life that I have tried to apply this to.

Pairing up has allowed me to commit to gentle but relatively consistent action. Sometimes it has been about 10 mins of writing. Or 10 mins of decluttering. Or the tiny actions of just getting something out from under the stairs so that tomorrow I can commit to the next tiny action of doing something with it.

All seemingly insignificant. But over time – incredibly powerful in how far it has been possible to come with some projects and undertakings. Gently. With no pressure. And with no judgement.

If you have never tried it – do. It is the most amazing thing. I highly recommend it.

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (but pair up with with another human, a friend, a soulmate, a trusted one; and commit to one tiny little action today towards your “It’ – that project, dream or undertaking that will just not leave you alone because it wants your attention. Today is as good a day as any)

Today I Choose Joy

 

I am a fan of intentions setting. No goals and objectives any more. Simply intentions. Leaves room for manoeuvre without the risk of feeling a failure. Leaves room for the unexpected and for changing course guilt-free. Intentions all the way. And visions.

I have a vision board. Because images speak loud to me. Because images are concise and capture loads in a minimal way. Taking up little space and little time to create or to process. In many ways – the minimalist’s perfect tool for intentions setting.

So I’ve got a visions board. It’s not a scrapbook. It’s a board. On the wall board. For daily reference. For in-your-face-are-you-forgetting-what’s-important reference.

And it the middle of it is an image of a phrase and that’s “Today I Choose JOY”.

It is my intention that JOY is central to absolutely everything and everyone I consciously choose to engage with.

I don’t want my interactions with humans to be toxic and hard work. No. I want you and me, if we happen to cross paths, to judge whether we stay or move on by reference to how much joy we experience together. And to intend to bring joy into each other’s lives, purposefully, with intent. I want to want to make you happy and experience joy. And I want you to want to make me happy and experience joy. And sometimes we will together tap into a source of common joy that takes us by surprise and we should pay attention to that and be wowed by it and be conscious to it. Otherwise, if we are no joy in each other’s lives, it’s best to keep moving. No hard feelings. Just not a match for shared Joy.

And I don’t want my life to be a struggle. I intend for it to be a joy. So appointments, tasks, missions, plans, could do-s, should do-s, must do-s: if they don’t bring joy, I am not interested. It’s such an easy tool to help decide.

I can’t pretend it works all the time but oh boy, if I remember that’s what’s central – then decision making is easy. Decisions about my day. Decisions about go-live projects. Decisions about recurring commitments. Super easy. No joy? Not for me, thanks.

It is mindblowingly simple. It’s a choice. Requires the courage to say “No” sometimes. Requires having to let go of some things and some people and some commitments. It does require some internal struggle in the process until you admit there is no joy left in it. But it is worth it.

I am in the process. As I continue to let go until what’s left is very little, I can see clearer that’s going to be left. Only pure joy. And that was the intention all along. Couldn’t be more joyous about that.

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (only that which beings you JOY; the choice is yours)

 

 

P.S. Some of the things I have worked out bring me Joy, and not necessarily in any order:

the green outside, sunsets, sunrises, water, waves, writing, stand-up comedy, Bulgarian folklore, dancing horo next to people who love it as much as I do, the understated intimacy of holding his hand, dog creatures, chopping up vegetables, cooking, walking, driving alone with the radio on full blast, being a mum, puzzles, soups, dress up parties, Dixit and board games generally, crossing The Thames (any bridge will do), learning, learning design, being on stage, teaching (the last two-three overlap), creativity generally, Serenity and all I discovered in the search for it, sleep (afternoon naps rock!), languages, going for a run on a sunny crisp morning, anything about Japan, my garden, some people, books I actually get, colours, a big bowl of dark cherries – all for me, solitude, maps, lanterns, picnics, fairy lights, giraffes, stained glass, churches and temples of any faith, swings, violins, empty beaches, early morning cuddles, birdsong, rainbows, panoramic views, palm trees, musical theatre/big productions, playing with the little people in my life, trampolines, drinking coffee in the sunshine, sunshine, the bright/warmth/colour/freshness of changing seasons, turning the corner on my road in spring and seeing the blooming trees, morning pages, airports, solving equations, tulips and magnolias, yellow, clean bedsheets fresh off the washing line, tidy uncluttered spaces, musicals and music concerts, not being in a rush… It is my intention to fill up life with as much of that as I can master and anything else is irrelevant, unless it also starts to bring joy, at which point I will chose to invite it in. I am choosing to choose Joy.

 

Acceptance

My neighbours are renovating.

Not just your spring clean, lick of paint refresher. No. Full out, all walls down, destruction, ripping out, remoulding, reshaping, rebuilding kind of renovation.

It’s been going on for weeks. Months? It’s going to go on for weeks. And months.

It starts at 8am every.single.day. Including weekends. Through midday nap times. Until the sun goes down. It is really quite disruptive. Disturbing. Discombobulating.

I like my quiet. I like peace at home. I like big space of time with no noise. So this is testing times for me. (incidentally, I totally get now how neighbour disputes are born : ).

And in all of that there is very very little I can do about it. Little but stick it out (it will at some point end). And accept it.

I can may be go out a bit more. And stay away a bit more. And work in the office a bit more. And wear earplugs a bit more. And just generally not be at home, feeling home, like I like to. Which is just applying plaster – not really healing the problem.

The only real solution is can see is acceptance.

The solution that applies to any discombobulating circumstance of life.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (for there is little one can do but accept and know that, as with all things, this too shell pass)

Make Love

It’s not what you think. It is that. But so much more.

If love is the feeling that encompasses all others. If it is in the pain of separation and loss, in the excitement for and all-body warmth of being together, in the intense experiencing of just holding a hand, in the quiet caring and doing something for someone, in thinking about and planning a surprise gesture, in making dinner food choices that are someone else’s favourite, in togetherness and sadness from apartness, in nursing a baby, in dog cuddles and tummy scratches, in gentle self-care, sure self-respect and invigorating self-belief, in everything, in everywhere, and in everyone. Then making love is what we do all the time. If we remember to.

There is very little to do to make love today.

Very little.

It doesn’t take much. Doesn’t need much. Doesn’t require much.

Just the conscious intention to love. To make love. Much love. Everywhere you go today.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Do Little (but love)

Just showing up

Decluttering my space and my life has meant that I am finally carving time to read.

That’s how I came across this: “I was eager to address the world of words – to address the world with words” (Mary Oliver)

It spoke to me because that’s where I am at.

I am also, oh so very aware, that there is very little that I need to do about that. All I need to do is keep showing up.

Sunday mornings. Coffee break time. Just show up.
Or when it takes over. When it’s forming. Ready to come out. Just show up.

Just be the channel through which words are born. That’s all.
Very little.

Merely capturing in letters that whichI haven’t gone looking for, but which has, somehow, come to find me. First draft. Little to no editing.
Just showing up.

So that’s what I am doing.
And that’s why it keeps happening.

 

Much Love,

Eliza Doing Little (just showing up)