… and why my poems act as reminders for me too

“sometimes, it takes losing yourself many times before you understand that you need yourself more than you need anyone else.”

Bloom for Yourself

Good morning my lovely friends, and welcome to the first of many weekly blog posts.

The purpose of this first blog is to reintroduce myself to you, away from the changing pace of social media which seems to be getting noisier, and faster, and more confusing by the day.

Instagram used to be a healthy space for me. A place to connect with others, reach thousands of you on a daily basis, and scroll through beautiful photographs with personal, informative, and inspiring captions. Of course, accounts with this offering still exist, but they no longer pop up on my feed on a regular basis, if at all. I am no longer alert to the thought: “ah, I haven’t seen that person for a while, I will pop over to their page and check in,” because there are now so many accounts I haven’t seen in such a long time that I can’t possibly remember them all. (This is an actuality that has turned out to be quite tragic for a reason I will most likely share in another post).

I have recently gone through a rather emotionally tough, and bleak season, (as I’m sure many of you will resonate with), and I talk about it further on. To protect my mental health, I have come to accept that I no longer want to feel so defeated each time I release a new post on Instagram. I no longer want to feel like I need to keep bending, and adapting, and shrinking myself to fit into a platform that no longer works well for me. And, perhaps that is the answer – it is me who no longer works well on that platform.

In which case, the timing for starting this regular blog couldn’t be any more divine.

---

I have been aching for something deeper for a while now: I think it’s been a longing for a much deeper connection with myself. Ultimately, I think that’s what we all want and need after the last two years. The pandemic – the tragedies, the isolation, and the practice of physical distancing, limited our physical interactions to the point where social media became an even greater distraction which ultimately caused even more scrolling, even more added pressure, and even more isolation than before. I think we all yearn to go back to the pre-pandemic days of meaningful posts and imagery, instead of reels and video overload. I know I do.

So, I am cultivating this space as a way of honoring the inner call to write and connect more deeply with myself, and with my life. And both of these precious things include all of you.

There is something frightening about blogging: it’s a commitment to you, and to myself, to show up, to add this into my schedule, to live and breathe it, and most importantly, to keep it real and honest. It’s scary. But that’s how I know I’m exactly where I need to be. I have been called to do it, and I am honoring that call.

This is an intentional new chapter; an expansion into a space that has been patiently waiting for me to step into. I would like us to build this little corner together, so your comments, and questions, and suggestions will be valuable to me. I would like to give you something you can look forward to each week, (some weeks, there may be a shorter post halfway through the week); something you can turn towards when you need comfort. Something that encourages you to quietly rest in the stillness and authenticity of your true self for a little while longer.

I am still making time for Instagram, but I am coming to realise that there are so many other ways to reach people with my words. In fact, there are endless possibilities for us to discover: slow, and simple ways to nurture our hearts beyond the platform of social media. I am so excited to share more writing on these topics with you. My intention is for this space to offer you nourishment – words that are insightful, inspiring, and introspective inducing.

---

quietly listening—

to what you are observing,
to what is coming up,
to which part is responding:
(the past, the pain, the trauma);

is self-enquiry
is self-knowledge
is self-care.

and this is your power.

---

My daily practice is spiritual. I studied Buddhism for 12 years before moving into the Hindu philosophy of Advaita Vedanta.

I didn’t ever plan to become an “instapoet.” I started out as a self-help writer with (from what I have been told) a gift for saying something poetic and healing in just a few short lines. So my longer pieces became condensed into shorter pieces that fitted into a little square box perfectly.

I think we are all poetry. I think that life is a moving poem, and each inhale changes in texture and meaning depending on the season we are currently living through.

Each blog post will follow the same format as this one: writing, images, music, poems, journal prompts/lessons I’m currently contemplating, a final thought on gratitude, and lots more in between.

This is a beating heart, a little piece of earth, a reflection of who we are, and who we want to become. It is a practice, a place of stillness and movement at the same time. Yes, stillness moving – I like that. It includes everything I do each morning, from listening to music, to reading, to writing poetry and scribbling notes into a journal. I also collect a lot of links, and little sparks of light that catch my attention, so I will include these here too.

This weekly commitment will require me to write more, share more, learn more, and become a better person for you, my loyal readers. I feel honored to be here learning and growing, and fully absorbing myself into the process.

The process – the only thing we can control.

---

A song I’m really enjoying:

I lost myself for a little while

…and how I found my way back

I’m in my eighth year of clean living. I will have 8, incredibly miraculous years of sobriety behind me in December. And what I am about to say is a cliche. But, it’s a crystal clear one; a bright, shiny, endless illumination that I want to scream onto the page. There isn’t a single moment that passes where I don’t feel the grace, and the gratitude spilling from my bones.

But there also isn’t a single moment where I don’t pray for the people who are still in so much pain and turmoil due to addiction. I hope they find this blog.

---

In my experience, when you encounter depression, illness, addiction, or anything else that threatens to pull you away from yourself, you have to find something that gives you a purpose, and meaning. You have to find something to get out of bed for. And even during the most difficult times of my life – losing both parents in quick succession, losing a breast to cancer, and losing more than I can even bear to think about to addiction, I always had something to get out of bed for. I always had a purpose. Yet, for the last year or so, I found myself sitting with a strikingly obvious contradiction, an empty page. I had completely misplaced my reason for writing in the first place: to help others move on from unhealthy patterns and behaviours. To help others heal, and evolve, and become who they were always designed to be.

I had fallen into an unhealthy pattern; a soul destroying, empty relationship and I lost myself. I lost my identity, my confidence, and the value I had worked so hard to place upon myself. 

I am not afraid, or ashamed to share that there were even moments when I questioned my purpose for living. And, mercifully, this was when Grace appeared through the ether to ignite my inner voice: “I need help.”

---

I think the hardest thing I’ll ever have to overcome is addiction in some form or another.  It always shows up.  Even with positive, nourishing things like pottery and painting – the two things I found myself devouring with the kind of compulsion that (mercifully) led me to recognise that I was escaping something.

Through my struggle, I came to understand that the stuck moments can disguise themselves as moments of drowning in something new. And there is value to be had in finding something new when that something seems healthy, and nourishing for the soul. But undertaking a hobby obsessively, to the point of exhaustion, can feel just as painful and soul destroying as consuming something unhealthy. The beauty of creating something for the little spark of joy can turn into an act of digging and digging in a frantic search for the answer. But, you’re numb, and tired, so you forget that you are already the answer.

---

Mindset work makes up the fabric of my life, so I became very conscious of the thought patterns I was falling into. But resistance, (fighting, denying), is a powerful force and it caused me to do everything possible to will the depression away. Alas, some things that so many of us deal with, are simply too far beyond the scope of a strong will. In fact, a strong will is both the greatest and the worst thing I possess.

You don’t notice that you’ve been in a state of resistance until you’re in a state non-resistance; until the emotional stain that comes from holding on (to hope, to false promises) starts to fade from the heat of a tiny glimmer of light.

You think you are feeling it all, but what you are feeling are the side effects: the denial, the distraction.

I am intense and passionate about everything I do, and nearly everything I do is taken to the extreme. But there’s a tipping point, a very thin, and fragile line between doing something because I’m an artist, and doing something because I’m inherently an addict. Which is why my daily practice is so valuable: it forces me to slow down, to break things up into separate little pieces. (I have so many topics I am going to write about here).

Thankfully, I am slowly returning to myself. To being a writer. To being aligned, (and staying aligned), with my values. To living and breathing words and knowing the impact they can have on other peoples lives, as well as the therapy the act of writing gives me. I am very slowly returning to a place of remembering what I write about the most: that being present in life, showing up for yourself each day, committing to your practice, allows you to transfer otherwise harmful energy into something creative, and constructive.

I heal myself when I write. And this healing is further reinforced when I hear back from readers that they heal when they read my words. Reciprocity. A beautiful spiritual law.

You are allowed to get lost for a little while. You will always return. Even when it feels like you no longer remember the person you’re returning as. You start again. With renewed strength, and a few more scars that ultimately fade to reveal the deepest of lessons.

What I learned in the last year:

→ the difference between chemistry and compatibility

→ that certain seasons can last a little longer than you expected

→ that the more you want the darkness to end the longer it seems to stay

→ that I needed to re-read my early poems, and I needed to remember why I wrote them, and what they would mean to me if I was a stranger reading them for the first time

→ that naming the thing, the shadow, the weight, and speaking it aloud to the air, another person, a doctor, is an act of Grace.

→ that speaking anything out loud, is speaking that thing out of you. It is saying: “I see you. I acknowledge you. I name you. I will stop fighting with you now, I will surrender to your force, and you can now pass through to clear the way for me.”

→ when you drop the idea of getting somewhere, and start to see beauty in what’s already here, you will be happier.

→ when you see beauty in what’s already here, you see beauty in places you’ve never noticed before.

→ that a stranger can sit next to you on a train and pay more interest in what you have to say than someone who has known you for years.

→ that a stranger who sits next to you on a train can show you a photo of his favourite painting and point to exactly why – “look at the angle of light, look at how luminous she is against the darkness” without even realising the subliminal, life enhancing message he is giving you.

→ that a stranger on a train can become a friend.

---

Keeping it real – some photos from my recent trip to Paris

---

A lesson I’ve been reflecting upon lately:

I have a habit of falling in love with possibility instead of looking reality straight in the eyes.

---

I am writing my next book: “softening – poetry and notes on becoming who you already are”

Because, life feels better when we show up as our true selves. When we take off the patterns and the conditioning and the concepts and stories that build up our identities. When we simply return to the divine beings that we came here as.

---

Softening

Sometimes, pain gives us no choice but to let go
in order to allow a new chapter to unfold.

Sometimes, pain is nature’s way of
choosing something else for us when we are
unable to see ahead.

---

Nuggets of wisdom:

♡ keep your anger/pain/rage tender by releasing it onto paper, because kept inside, it can turn in on itself in a physical way.
♡ stay soft inside so that the deepest pain can be heard.
♡ when you smile at someone, they see you.
♡ when you smile at someone, you feel better, (even if they don’t smile back.)

I’m currently reading:

“Your life as art” by Robert Fritz (thank you Sara)

Sparks of light:

I have followed Rupert Spira’s teachings for quite some time. He is a beautiful soul, and incredible author. Here is an introduction to his work if you are interested in non-duality / Advaita.

I have fallen in love with the art of Beatriz Simon. “self-reflection and acceptance” is her main theme.

This week, I’ve been grateful for:

Olivia Newton John. For gracing us with her beautiful soul.  For setting up a cancer research centre. For advocating for cancer patients, focusing on their wellness and emotional support.

---

It’s an honor to be here sharing my words with you, and I am incredibly grateful for the time you have taken to read. I will be publishing longer pieces like this every Sunday morning, but I may also release some smaller pieces during the week.

Thank you again for giving me the opportunity to expand and grow into this new space. For following along, for reading my work. Please comment or email to keep in touch: april@bloomforyourself.co.uk

Sending love and light always, April xxx