have always been intrigued by the overlap of the people we come from, the people we choose, and the room we make for people who surprise us. I think about the way we are pulled towards newly met people who remind us of the past. The people who fill up a space inside us, the people who make us feel light and joyful. Or the people who impressed or inspired us when we were kids and now unintentionally influence us in our adult lives.
I remember the time when my grandmother went on an early pension. She has always been a creative person, but I saw her flourish when she gained all that free time. With every visit, I noticed how my grandparents’ house filled up more and more with still life paintings. I loved coming over and seeing which paintings were new. Because of that, I have never been shy about hanging my own paintings on the wall; I never doubted if my art was good enough for our walls. And that is why it’s so important to know where we come from. By remembering who made our meals when we were small, who stood up for us, who we had good belly laughs with on the back seat of the car. May we always look at our roots with curiosity and see the traits we received from people as gifts. That stubbornness we were always called out on turned into our superpowers in our adult lives. It all connects to our story.
The people that we choose are the proof that belonging can be built over time. I am talking about the feeling of sitting across the table from someone you just met, yet it feels like they have always been there. We lean into them, and they lean into us.
Some say it’s the universe; some say it is a skill. I say it’s a choice; it’s a choice to stay curious and not be afraid of vulnerability.
As much as we want people to be there for us, creating room for others can be just as satisfying. We are, throughout the day, generous with our time when people ask for it, our kids, our co-workers, in the group chats, you name it. But what about the people who do not ask for anything, including our time? We could be generous with them by reaching out first. That one message goes a long way.
We are all capable of choosing again.
The butterfly hunt: someone we have missed.
Butterflies come from anticipation and uncertainty. We look forward to something and have no idea how it will go. Reaching out to someone we have missed is both of those things.
Choose one person. Take the first person who comes to mind.
Write three sentences. Say that you have missed them, and bring back a specific memory.
Send it within two minutes. Don’t overthink it.
Notice where you feel butterflies. Belly, hands, or face.
Even though this might seem small, it isn't. Because while we reconnect with someone, we relive a moment that made us feel something. That feeling is our body telling us we are alive and moving toward something.
Maybe it’s the season I am in, but I realised I don’t tell people as often as I’d like what they mean to me. So that is exactly my goal for the upcoming period.
I thought of a few questions that can help me out here, such as:
Who do I think of right now, in a shop, while biking, when a song comes on?
Which of our people makes us feel most like ourselves?
Who were we when we were with her, and do we miss that woman?
Next Sunday, we move into the next domain: wonder.
Here is what to expect:
When did everything we do with our free time have to be useful, and what happened to the things that serve absolutely no purpose?
Why do we find it so much easier to be productive than to be amazed, and when did you last stand somewhere and simply look up?
What shifts when you stop asking how to use your time better, and start asking what makes you feel more alive?
If you can’t remember the last time something stopped you in your tracks, this one is for you.
See you next Sunday.
Thank you for being here ♡ Every week I write for women who are curious about their own lives: the roles they carry, the pressure they’re handed, and women who prioritise themselves just as much.
Each issue: Things that inspire me, a reframe, and one honest question that is worth sitting with.
If you need to get in touch with me, send me a private message here on Substack or via email at hello@orangeandkin.com.