The Archivist

What are the types of words you use most often when talking about work?

I have found myself using harsh, abrasive, and aggressive words when talking about my interactions with other people. I find that it extends to the way I think and respond to certain situations at work. I believe I might be treating work as if I am fighting for my own survival, rather than it just being a day job. This probably impacts my brain and my ability to respond to situations with the best of my thoughts, ideas, and empathy. 

Why do you tell stories?

I am busy reading The Whole-Brain Child by Dr Dan Siegel with my mom. One of the points from the book I keep going back to is about how telling stories helps us integrate parts of our brains. Sometimes I struggle with self-doubt and wonder why I tell my stories at all. Perhaps there is a way to think about storytelling, not by looking at the quality of the story, but more by looking at what storytelling does for us and our ability to make sense of the world around us. 

How strongly do you feel about your coffee?

Sometimes I feel I might be too dependent on the substance, so I have tried to create practices that will enhance my appreciation for it. Some days I feel like I depend on it more than others, and maybe sometimes, it becomes more of a prayer for me. 

Have you also felt this sense of groundlessness in the last year? 

At times I have felt stuck or like there isn't much to hold onto. I wonder if I could look at this sense of groundlessness like a plant being repotted into a space with greater opportunity to grow! 

How do you think about breakdowns?

I often look at breakdowns as bad and problematic for my long term well-being, but the other day, when reading through Pema Chödröns Welcoming the Unwelcome, I stopped to examine the way I approach breakdowns. What if, instead of seeing them as I would see the breakdown of a car, I think about them as the breaking of a wave—just as it is?

It is a privilege to talk about difficult and important topics with people that know you and understand you. This is a discussion between me and my university friend, Solo, about what it means to find your feet in a new city. In this case, it's Cape Town. I really appreciated his insights on everything from the idiosyncrasies of a new place to the wild dreams of what life could be when you commit to stepping outside of your comfort zone.

Also, after this conversation, I bought a couch a year after moving in. I'm left asking myself who I want to be and how to support myself in getting there with more kindness and self-compassion.

Glitter is a strange and often polarising object. Besides the environmental damage caused by these small pieces of plastic, in some instances, it has come to embody the self-indulgent behaviour of desecrating floor space with everlasting impact, just for a single event. To other people, it could be an indicator of something tasteless. I think this is part of what makes glitter such a wonderful concept to me, maybe part of me loves the irreverence? The other thought to consider is that if significant meaning and perspective can be found in even something like glitter, there is hope and significant opportunity available to find the mindful moment amidst the seeming chaos of everyday life.

The message is not so much about glitter as it is about paying attention, finding wonder in the ordinary, and coming back to a sense of centre when and where possible.

Resource Links

Recently, I've experienced some creative and mental fatigue. I've still been trying to take in a lot of information, but have been trying to be more selective and go with the material that will inspire me. I happened to be sitting down with a cup of tea when a passing butterfly migration got me thinking and reflecting.

This week, something sparked in my brain while listening to an episode of the Economist's Babbage. It was an interview with Howard Gardner on his theory of Multiple Intelligences and the Synthesizing Mind. I've always struggled with this theory, but this time it all made sense. I then looked into more of his work to try to understand why the way I think can be so different from others.

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If you're anything like me, failure is avoided as far as possible and can be a terrifying or lonely place. My first reaction is a type of dysphoria where I push back against any acknowledgement of failure, but eventually, I have to come to terms with what is. Before getting to the productive aspects of failure, I need to go through the tragic confrontation of this fear and feeling of failure.

This is a combination of me unpacking my understanding and a series of messages to my future failed self.