February notes to self

Like Post-Its, so I don't forget

Dear readers,

Last month I shared my January notes to self, which I’ve been jotting down each year for some time now. Some years I continue updating them each month, and keep my notes to return to. Doing this can feel like finding Post-Its left by my past self in a book I love, pointing out things I don’t want to forget or miss. Which looks something like this:

Photo by Mindspace Studio on Unsplash

This year, I thought to share for the first time my monthly notes to self as I write them.

My hope is they might offer a spark of resonance. Take any that do and of course leave any that don’t.

February notes to self:

1. Even now, especially now, you are allowed to ENJOY the shit out of making your art.

2. When you feel unease in your body in response to a person / place / situation, pay attention to it.

3. You are never as alone or weird in your creativity or life as you might sometimes think. Someone else out there feels exactly as you do about *all of this* - let them be company.

4. Now isn’t the time to forget the power of the little things: what might be an email, text, phone call, or a split-second gesture for you, could be a lasting lift for someone else.

5. Every day, there is still awe and wonder in people, stories, and nature, waiting to be noticed, felt, told, written, and absorbed.**

6. Setting and holding boundaries with yourself and others is an act of compassion, not aggression.

7. Speaking directly with clarity to express what you want or need is not the demanding, burdensome, inconvenient diva behaviour that your inner critic tells you it is. You are entitled to engage and use these communication skills as much as anyone else.

8. Wear the fucking lime green bikini. You’re 44, not dead. Feel the sun and salt on your skin. Repeat.

9. You love riding a bike. Riding a bike with a comfy arse seat brings you visual, audible joy.** You don’t need to be in the Tour de France to make buying a bike worthwhile.

10. Reassess all of this in March.

** Exhibit A:

**Last year, I had the joy of meeting a reader named Gina on my book tour in Victoria, BC, Canada for the North American publication of Esther. She rendered me speechless with awe and wonder when she showed me her ‘have courage, take heart’ tattoo. (A flower meaning and repeated phrase in my first novel, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart.)

Gina has left me speechless again this week with this photo:

When she shared the photo, Gina wrote in the caption, KNOW ME NOW, I AM THE WILD WAVE, which is a line from my second novel, The Seven Skins of Esther Wilding.

I couldn’t have dreamed up a photograph or image that better encapsulates the essence or spirit of ‘Know me now, I am the wild wave’, if I tried.

That this photo is also of Laura, a dear mutual friend of ours, who happens to be one of Esther Wilding’s first ride ro die champions, and who I interviewed for my third book, The House That Joy Built, is, just frankly, ridiculous magic.

As if that’s not enough, in October, 2024, I shared a reader’s tattoo of ‘Know me now, I am the wild wave” on my Instagram feed.

Said reader’s name is also Laura. This Laura happens to be Gina’s sister (!!) AND also has a ‘have courage, take heart’ tattoo (!!!). As does Gina’s and Laura’s mum!!!!!

My heart trying to process this is like Paddington Bear coming home after a bender - I probably need a cup of tea and a lie down with a belly full of marmalade before I can function again. It was a very welcome reminder of the value and importance of letting ourselves stay open to feeling and being awed, and, of the connective tissue in stories and storytelling that reach further and wider than we can fathom.

I wonder if you’ve written any February notes to yourself too?

A Post-It note trail that you want to leave for yourself to come back to?

Or any particular pieces of poetry you’ve saved a screenshot of or bookmarked?

I’d love to read any that you might care to share in the comments below.

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Coming in the next issue for paid subscribers:

The third instalment of my three-part This Writer’s Life series, on the main ways I’m prepping to start the writing phase of my new novel this year: Part Three explores BELONGING, as a response to Imposter Syndrome. I hope that each of these three essays can accompany your imagination like a friend, and stoke the ideas simmering / boiling in your creative heart. Catch up on Part One - distinguishing nerves from anxiety from excitement so that I can fucking write - and Part Two - the rituals I use to bring joy, beauty and connection to my writing process so that I can fucking write.

If you have a question you’d like to ask me about creativity or writing, my website is always open. All questions are kept anonymous and I answer them here on The Joy Rise.

Thanks as ever for reading.

With a light left on,