Walk through Sunday moments with me

We wake up in the middle of a cloud that has descended into the valley. Mist all around and above and below. Breakfast is out at a beautiful restaurant. Big wooden benches and a heavy-set table with views out to rain and green paddocks. 

The baby sleeps while we linger on the porch enjoying food, coffee and conversation. The air is gently filling our lungs with clean, cool breaths.

Back at home we move around the house like little dolls. One on the couch, two in the kitchen, one in the study, one on the rug. Then change positions. One sleeping lightly, one in the sun room, one kneading dough, one stoking the fire. Pizzas tonight. 

The rain clears and lets the sun steam the land and bake the verandah. Bees float around happily among the lavender buds and ants scale the little stems. It’s humid outside and puddles reflect the blue sky like mirrors.

There are so many quiet little places in a house. Spots content to stay empty and keep watch over those who wander past. The dough is rising in a warm nook. Mist is rising out of the warm hills. 

The sun is dipping down below the clouds and spilling golden light into the house. I can hear the rustle of dinner preparations. The pizzas will be ready soon. Hot coals wash waves of heat over us and scorch the pizzas in seconds. We huddle together for the last meal of the day.

The sun shines one more broad spotlight through the thick clouds lighting up a crease in the valley. The day draws to a close with a moonless sky.

We drive home along wet roads with highbeams on and yawns permeating the quiet spots in conversation. I click through photos in bed. The fan, jittering side to side, blows air gently over my bare legs as I type this last sentence and begin the upload of pictures for you to walk through below.

Hope you’ve enjoyed glimpses some Sunday moments with me.

Photo journaling kinda saved my life

Warning: mushy, emotion-filled stuff to follow.

When my first serious relationship ended I didn’t cope very well. I think most people have a story like this. I found it hard to sleep, I rarely ate, I moped and stared out into nothingness and cried that gross kind of cry where all the snot gets your nose stuffy and there’s just goo all over your face and tissues don’t really seem to help.

I’m sure while this was going on I was terrible to live with. I was a real Debbie Downer. At the time though, I was quite unaware of most things because I was deeply buried in my own thoughts and feelings. This intense self-reflection started to really eat away at me. Too much time spent in your own mind can be unhelpful to say the least. And continuing to travel through life with your eyes closed in grief, your lungs restricted by sobbing and your tummy empty from a gut-wrenching fear of the future… well, I try not to think too much about where I would have headed. 

This all sounds overly dramatic but to me at the time things seemed insurmountable and my motivation to get up every day was beginning to wane. That is until I started my photo journal. 

I decided at some point that enough was enough. I needed something to give me a good shake. I remember thinking how I might be able to wake myself up from the break-up haze. My conclusion: take a photo of myself every day and write a reflection to go with it. Part of me wanted to document the pain and part of me wanted to dig myself out of it. And, for me, doing a project like this meant the difference between barely surviving and really thriving. 

This first photo journal lasted 77 days. I didn’t have a goal in mind for how long I’d keep going and that was a good thing. Goals can be helpful but sometimes they can also put more pressure on when you don’t need it.

Later, I started another photo journal that I hoped to keep for 365 days. I was inspired by a Project 365 photo-sharing group. This time it was more light-hearted and I lasted 137 days. Pretty respectable if you ask me! 

Photos capture so much. I found that if I took the time to grab a photo at some point in the day it would jog my memory later that night when I wanted to write about the day or my thinking behind the photo. I also found a simple structure (photo, bible verse, thought) helped the first time around when my brain felt like mush. Although, I was kind to myself if I just needed to ‘wing it’ some days.

I would really recommend photo journaling as something to try. Whether it be for creativity, motivation, documentation or processing. It’s a great alternative to a written journal and one that will continue to teach you every time you wince through a revisit. Gotta love that weird place called Memory Lane!

Day 18 of my first photo journal