Sometimes we’re hard on ourselves in ways that we’d never be on anyone else. It may seem like we’re pushing ourselves to be better, when really all we’re doing is beating ourselves up. If we really want to move forward, being gentle with ourselves is actually more productive.
In my head there is a landscape I paint with words. Close your eyes and follow me into the woods where a trickling stream becomes a babbling brook with bubbles and pebbles swirling and twirling with eddies and currents until it runs into a large, roaring, raging river and the rushing water falls over the edge of a cliff foaming and spraying. There are tall trees, on which the leaves, lush and verdant, rustle in the breeze. In the tallest tree, is a platform on which you can stand and looking down view the canopy like a gentle green sea. At dawn the sky is filled with flying colours passing through wispy white clouds and a rainbow that rises leading to a pot of gold riches at the end. There's a cottage with a room and in that room a bed. Sunlight streams through the window bright, pale and yellow and outside the window in a field of flowers stands a lone clock tower. I sit atop that tower with the wind in my face birdsong in my ears lilting and lyrical and look with appreciation on my creation. In the outside world a picture paints a thousand words But in my head a thousand words paint an enchanting picture.
© Christine Ooi 2020