Keeping Your Life Tank Full

Yesterday, I left work at 8 pm. It has been weeks of late nights and weekends dedicated to work. Yesterday, as I sat in the driver’s seat, I drove home, in complete silence. No radio, no air-conditioning- just silence. But my mind wasn’t quite silent. I had so many thoughts in my head. Each one bombarding me with tasks, follow-ups and emotions. Each one questioning, if not contradicting one another.

As I drove very automatically towards home, I realised that I had not lived in the last few months. My actions and my routine had become so robotic that I had forgotten to live. By live, I mean doing things that matter to me personally; read, paint, write, take long strolls. The only thing that made me human was my job and the interaction that I have with my students- knowing that what we do makes a difference and leaves an impact. They may not always understand it, and that’s hard, but they will, eventually. That has always been my drive and what makes me ever so passionate in what I do.

But last night hit me so hard with realisation that if my tank runs on empty, I would never be able to continue giving without becoming short fused. I sat in complete silence and exhaustion and made a deal with myself. Regardless of how busy a day I had, I was going to make time for myself.

I got home, quickly got into something comfortable and cooked. Something I had not done in a while. Then I went for a swim came back showered and cleaned. All of which I completed by being very present in the moment, no thoughts interrupting.

I finally picked up that book  that I have been trying so hard to finish because every time I read 2 pages my eyes gave up on me and stubbornly fell shut, and I read like I’ve never read before. I became so submerged in that fictional world I lost track of everything else. It was that breath of fresh air I needed.

I woke up today still exhausted, but I was me again. I felt blessed that I was able to use my own abilities to read, to analyse each written word and understand what was being said, instead of have someone read it to me –simply because I can.

I did not write this with flair or with much thought about what words I wanted to use to convey my points. I just wrote. My last blog post was dated February 15, 2015 and this is a little reminder to myself that I will make time for things that matter to me.

Cheers!

 

Image taken from: http://www.sis.sch.id/spring-season-asas/the-art-of-reading

 

Ink-appropriate

Cleo Wattenström

Part of my passion extends into the artistic world and this includes art on a canvas and body art. Despite the growing interest in making professional choices in the field of art, the stigma continues when it comes to piercings, tattoos and ink. While both men and women suffer the same prejudices, women tend to suffer a higher percentage of prejudices because tattoos have been associated with deviant behavior, unfemininity and promiscuity.

In my previous blog posting, I approached some Malaysian women (some I did not know personally) who shared the same passion for ink and told them nothing but to give me a story. I set no further expectations or guidelines because I truly wanted them to tell it the way it is. Obviously Contrary to the negative stigma, I found these women intelligent, deep and reflective. Each of them possessed a unique life story and why their tattoos mattered to them. They were women who had an appreciation for books and literature, enjoyed music and art, career oriented women who are confident and most importantly self-aware.

You see, only the brave are inked. It is an excruciating process, something that requires commitment and discipline and very rarely, do people with tattoos regret anything. To them, everything life presents projects learning and growth.

While I hope for a greater acceptance for the art on its own and the elimination of the negative perceptions that come along with it especially in the professional world, I do understand the fine line that exist when you represent the company you work for against self-representation.

Freedom is in everything but so are choices. Practice making smart decisions because we live in a community; a rather opinionated one that is diverse. While we may possess the necessary skills to understand and accept, others may not. Your best bet? Do the ink-appropriate.