Steele.

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Confession.

Confession.

I opened this Squarespace site almost a year ago now, anticipating that I would get off my chest all of the stories about exhibitions I have visited, favourite materials, fun insight into textiles, diary of what I am up to in the garden, and running adventures. Unfortunately, it has taken me until now to find a rest day - and only because after two years I finally tested positive to coronavirus.

Though I may have taken a day off from work, in that, I have most of the day to myself, I tend to always be thinking of the work: checking emails, answering comments on Instagram, considering what is on my to-do list - it’s very difficult to shut off. Up until the Christmas period just gone, I hadn’t really had any days off. I was working as a self-employed “creative”, running a textile shop and online education platform. Or I was working as a food grower. Or I was working trail running events. So some weeks I could have clocked up 60 hours, not including travel. I guess in the past it was seen as a badge of honour to have worked so much and still be going, yet nowadays, as we have seen the destruction that can come mentally and physically from overworking, we are fighting against the arbitrary working week. If your job is just a job, and you go home at the end of the day and that’s that, perhaps you are able to shut off. It hasn’t been like that for me for some time, because my personal and work lives intertwine.

For self-employed people, who do not have the benefit of sick pay (even though UK sick benefit is a ridiculously low amount to survive off, especially in London) they have to work when the work comes, therefore actually taking time off can seem just as detrimental to mental and physical health as not working. I struggle with letting go, in personal and work situations, however, there are more and more occasions in the last year where I have forgotten to schedule a social media post and realise that no one is waiting for that piece of content, and so I shouldn’t worry. Unfortunately for my own self, because I want to please, I struggle with not worrying.

Images: enjoying a new house and the comfort that the space brings; an unexpected sunset after navigating a run goes somewhat wrong; flax planting day 2021.

All of this is to set the tone for why it has taken almost 12 months to sit down and write my first blog post on this rather expensive holding page. If I have any “free time”, then I think work should come first, otherwise it will just be on my mind anyway and I won’t be able to focus on myself or my relationships. Over the holidays just gone, I did take a few sporadic days off so I could focus on these relationships (and because I had my 34th birthday). Laughably, I still did check emails and respond to Instagram because there is a chance I would forget something too minor to go on my to-do list notepad, but also too major (in the scheme of that work) not to do. However, I have had a cold for 16 days now, with part of that apparently being coronavirus rather than your standard noro-, yet due to my personality and need to do stuff, and concern that these tasks just wouldn’t get done (or I would look stupid and unreliable if they didn’t), I still worked.

Yesterday, however, I decided that I would stay in bed and watch Game Of Thrones while I designed the spring and summer planting for our garden (still participated in a staff meeting), and today with the sun out, decided I would come out in to the garden I am privileged to have (still answered emails, Slack comments and What’sApp messages). I am not needed in every hour of every day to prioritise other people; over the last couple of months I realised that this - being there for everyone - was burning me out. So, now, even though my fingers are now a little too numb for comfort, feeling the sun and wind on my face, I am able to relish in how alive that makes me feel.

I write content every day, but there are so many stories I want to tell for my own enjoyment. The key word is “stories” - not content. The act of storytelling is to disperse a feeling or expel some wisdom. As you’re here, you probably want to read those stories, rather than a news article, or some random memes, and I am grateful for your interest. I hope you gain some insight or wisdom or practical knowledge that can be taken into the world and shared, or sparks conversation, or incites thought in a domino effect of what storytelling used to be like. This blog will be focussed on the way I see the world, of course, but I am open to learning from you too, so please comment or send me a message.

Images: a running day out with friends and appreciating the landscape; sticking my head into elderflower; receiving a gift of reading in repurposed materials.

I believe communication really is necessary if we are to find new solutions to our problems, yet generally, I can be closed off and uncommunicative as I don’t know how to explain what I am thinking or visualising; a situation where it’s easier to just do it myself to cut out time, for everyone’s sake. I am never one to create things for the sake of it: to add “fluff” into a world that already has lots of fluff, which is why I stopped making clothes and exploring textiles. Though, how are we to learn if we do not share experiences? Personally, my understanding comes easier if I can write rather than speak, so even if I read something or watch something, if I don’t recite the story or don’t narrate it by hand somwhere, I’ll forget. So perhaps “journal” is a nicer description than blog, as it is a space to note down those feelings and experiences to subsequently understand the development. As “blog” is better for SEO though, I’ll leave it as that. But, if I am going to take the personal time to put myself and my experiences first, then someone else may as well glean something from it too, so for that reason I’ll also try to make this space educational.

It is actually a bit nippy now. A big benefit of being outside is the eventual appreciation of being inside. Tea time!

Follow me on Instagram for fragments of stories and experiences.

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