The past 12-18 months felt like a space in between. Many subtle contrasts.
Externally, I interviewed over 10 professional artists and makers across the island of Ireland and asked them about their journey with hands-on creativity and mental health. It was fascinating to hear about their varied experiences. Most stories gave me goosebumps as we were recording, always a good indication of a great story or perhaps a sign from my body that something resonated with my own experience.
Internally, I felt like I was (and still am) in a cocoon, maturing. Embracing the space in-between, getting ready for the next chapter, not fully sure what my career will bring. I’d have to check my private journals for exact details, but it was roughly the last 18 months that I committed to reflective writing whenever my head was feeling somehow heavy, yet the intensity of my daily tasks was making it hard to hear my own thoughts- the ones that only come when you allow some time and space.
I have a simple reflective writing practice:
I get comfy in my bed or chair, take a few deep breaths, and ask myself, "What is it that I need to know today?" Then I wait, without judgment or expectations, and start writing as soon as words form in my mind. I don’t wait for sentences to take shape; I let them take shape on paper as I write. It was often genuinely surprising what came out on paper. Every time a piece of advice (from myself?) formed on paper during that writing practice, I either implemented it as soon as I could or seriously considered it.
One of those reflections made me realise I needed to broaden my network, and instead of renewing my membership in the business club I'd been active in for 5+ years, I searched for conferences and groups related to my new career direction as an indie doc filmmaker (InnLyte | Creative Wellbeing). Some of them came out of nowhere (or so it seemed), through messages from other people ("I thought of you when I saw this” kind of message). I made a big effort to show up to a variety of in-person events and conferences across Ireland, which might feel like nothing when you’re younger and free of family responsibilities, but it involved long drives, the cost of hotels, my partner taking time off from his business to do school runs, and me showing up prepared, open-minded, and ready to connect (not always easy as an introvert). Yet every time, I was very glad I went.
What intrigues me is why it feels like I’m in an in-between space even though I’m active in my career and have a solid routine at home with my young family. Am I sensing a major shift that I will only be able to confirm looking back? Or are we always in-between? Suspended, analysing things that already happened, and imagining what the future could bring?
We experience our lives in our heads.
I just remembered that as a young teenager I visited my dad’s office. He shared the space with a lady named Sabrina (or Sabina). My tummy was sore from period cramps, and as she was making me a strong peppermint tea, I read what was in the frame by the kettle:
Be careful of your thoughts, for your thoughts become your words.
Be careful of your words, for your words become your actions.
Be careful of your actions, for your actions become your habits.
Be careful of your habits, for your habits become your character.
Be careful of your character, for your character becomes your destiny.
It was intense, I thought, but interesting. It certainly stuck with me that day and made me think.
With this unexpected and slightly random memory of that quote in mind: is there a danger that my thoughts of “being in-between” facilitate not fully committing to what has taken shape in front of me?
I’m aware of my perfectionism, and while it’s a useful trait to have from the perspective of constantly improving my skills and learning, it sometimes makes me erase (or archive) my previous efforts (e-books I spent months writing, an online course re-recorded twice and currently offline waiting for the new and improved video production, over 100 videos on my old YouTube channel). It's embarrassing to list them publicly. In my defence, I have much better camera gear and skills now, so maybe I should polish what I can and bring some of my older resources back to light?
Or is my sense of “being in-between” a journey towards allowing myself to truly flourish and be seen?
If any of this resonated with where you are right now, I’d be so curious to hear about your own experiences.
