One of my pet peeves is people who take social media or blogging breaks and then go on social media to talk about how wonderful the break was, and how much better life is without the social media they're currently using to share this information. I mean, the hypocrisy! However, I also do understand that being intentional with your time and disconnecting is a very good and necessary thing. And it's far more realistic that we will take "breaks" but still engage in social media; it's such a part of normal life for many people these days that it's not realistic to quit completely. As people grow more and more spread apart these virtual communities and devices keep us connected--I use my computer to Skype my family, I'm on Facebook to see what friends from high school are up to, WhatsApp lets me talk to both groups halfway across the world without hefty cell phone charges. But as I mentioned in another post recently, it is the time away from those devices that gives us something to talk about when we do connect; a story worth sharing over Skype or Whatsapp. If I sit at my computer all day typing away and editing pictures, the conversation is brief. "How'd your day go?" "Good, I stared at a screen for 10 hours." I suppose all this is on my mind because I recently went to an art museum and a few days later to a piano recital and both were just such lovely engaging experiences that filled me with more creative energy than a dozen mind-numbing hours scrolling through Pinterest ever could (although I still love my Pinterest...). At the piano recital listening to pieces composed by Bach and Brahms in an otherwise still room, you could just feel your mind opening up and filling with thoughts. There were no distractions and the rhythm of the songs swept over and through you. It wasn't the stuffy classical music you might hear on the radio and feel bored; it was the emotional, powerful music as if sent through a time machine sweeping you back to an era. It reminded me of the Archers (a film production company from the 1940s) and how Pressburger would go to Scotland between projects "for a walk in the hills" to clear his head. After these trips he could come back with a new creative idea and ready to pursue the next film project. When was the last time we let ourselves fully disconnect and wandered through some hills to clear our heads? Or conversely, fully connect. To focus in on one thing with no distractions and let that sweep you away. The way one painting in a museum can stop you in your tracks if you just let yourself focus on it, or the way a piano concerto in a dusky room can open your mind in a thousand directions...

My blog and social media channels often read like a nature-based fairytale (or at least that is my goal). My sister said someone looking at my photographs would assume I live in the forest like a woodland creature. But like one page of a book doesn't capture the whole story, the photographs I share are only one page in my own story. And as peaceful and idyllic as things seem in photographs, in reality the past few months have been pretty stressful for me. I don't want to use my blog as a space to whine about my problems, but suffice to say: life is always full of flux. We all have periods when things are easier and times when things are harder. Additionally, my point today isn't really that I had a few troublesome months, but rather that in the past week or so I finally gave myself some grace. It's funny how we can see a friend or loved one go through a difficult period and our instinct is to comfort and try to make things easier for them, but when we are the ones with the problem we aren't so kind to ourselves. We are tend to mentally berate ourselves for mistakes or demand that we try harder and push-push-push. But this past week instead of continuing to push myself to my limits, I let some things go. I took a break from a project that was making me crazy even though it means I won't meet my deadline on it. I set aside a bit of time to do necessary work, but otherwise I unplugged and I didn't let myself worry about filling every minute with something useful to "make the situation better." It's good to challenge yourself, to set goals and strive to be better and better. But equally it's ok to take a step back or take a break. Give yourself the same grace you'd give to a friend struggling through a difficult time. Sometimes we feel we have to be our best all the time when you really just need to let yourself "be." I've written before about choosing slow, but it's a good reminder that with everything in life it's not a one time decision and done. You don't decide to change your diet or shopping habits one morning and magically are never faced with temptation again. You have to actively choose to continue on the path you set; say no to that unhealthy snack or high street buy, etc. I have to actively choose slow, week by week. I have to choose to give grace. It's so easy to get caught up in the hamster wheel of life and stop making active decisions but just react to stimuli. I feel that's where I've been lately--reacting; not taking time to observe or process or choose a response. We get so focused on this problem or that issue, and we can miss the bigger picture. There's a really lovely Terrence Malik quote about the path of nature and the path of grace; one part of that quote I love is, "[Nature] finds reasons to be unhappy when all the world is shining around it." Let's try to actively find reasons to be happy. So, here's some soothing photographs from a pretty greenhouse; a simple invitation to take a moment to appreciate the way the world is shining today. And if you can, choose to give grace to yourself and others.   

These little white buds are some of the first blossoms of spring. We spied them in the hedgerows between fields in February and slowly watched them spread to the nearby parks. Watching spring coming into blossom always feels me with such optimism; you can feel the days getting longer and brighter. Sometimes this is a false optimism. An optimism that convinces me I can wear a little sundress out in the middle of March with bare legs and be alright, despite the looming clouds or threats of strong winds. So after this day of mixed weather and brisk temperatures I have to say only my toes tucked up in cozy socks in these boots were warm! Rather glad I've hung on to these boots (and not just for their coziness). I got them a few years ago but never wore them much as in autumn I crave warmer colors and usually when spring rolls around I just want to retire my boots for ballet flats. But this year I've worn them loads; they're a perfect balance with breezy minis and are almost exactly the same shade as the grass. The most practical part of my wardrobe of late as I stomp through some muddy fields in search of every spring bloom! It's moments like these when I think spring is actually my favorite season. After a dark and cold season when the world looked a bit grey and dead, it's so nice to feel as if life is breathing into the woods and fields again. There are spring lambs leaping through the fields, new buds forming in spindly branches, and every extra minute on sunlight speaks to the warmer months ahead. How can you not welcome this season with open arms? 

It's not officially spring until the end of March, but similar to how it looks and feels like fall long before the "official" start date, I've been finding glimpses of spring all around the countryside. One of the things I really like about this region is how many phases of the seasons there are. We are teased by glimpses of snowdrops and crocuses before the daffodils burst into life. It's still a few weeks before the woods start to turn green and bluebells carpet the ground, but each teasing blossom gives you hope that spring is around the corner--even when the weather is as sporadic and unpredictable as it has been. March has definitely entered as a lion and we've yet to know if it will exit as the proverbial lamb. My optimistic is blooming with the flowers though. I've brought out my favorite spring and summer accessories and dresses. My straw hats and woven bags are back, along with a variety of pastel dresses that haven't seen the light of day for months. It might be a bit early for them, but a late sprinkling of snow from last weekend is not destroying my optimism or the hearty daffodils raising their heads in my garden.