S.R. Crawford's Blog, page 3

Our misconceptions about summer

Ah summer, the endlessly long days of sunshine and energy. Everyone wants to do things and be outside and socialise and take the world by storm. We come out of our winter slumber, ready to hit the road running.

Except, summer isn’t perfect. If you live in places like the UK, you probably didn’t even get that much sunshine! But more than the weather, summer isn’t some magical time of year that fixes all our problems – as much as we may wish it was.

You still get tired in summer. Still get sick or injured. Still have fallings out with loved ones. Still get stressed. Still get stuck in your creative projects. Still get rain.

I think we hold summer to a high standard, placing it in this pedestal of expectations that are just too unattainable. Then we get disappointed and frustrated. But we made the mistake in thinking this way in the first place.

I have seen summer over the last four years of working in education as a time to go full steam ahead towards my writing goals. To finish lengthy drafts of novels. But I also want to read at least 6 books (one a week), targeting the bigger and more literary ones. And this year, I wanted to do all the yoga, and train more advanced. To become a runner again. To experiment with baking and food and my hair. To see people and have bbqs and picnics. To be outside as much as possible. All the things.

But summer days are still only 24 hours! And you’re still human even in this season. You have your limits.

I feel like I wasted my summer stressing myself out. If I could reset the clock, I’d go a lot slower with my writing, and take half the things off my to do list. I’d allow myself long, slow reading days more without feeling lazy. I’d say no to people.

But I can’t turn back the clock and now September calls…

What can I do about it all now? Learn from my mistakes. There’s four months left in the year and the perfectionist overachiever in me wants to push and get the novels done. I want to finish my yoga training. I want to do all the things. I want to rush to read more books so I can reach the 50 mark. I want to impress…I don’t even know who!

But I need to learn this very valuable lesson and apply it to my life, right now. Not next year, but now. I need to love and appreciate and celebrate having tried even if I didn’t finish things.

Things to be proud of and happy about this summer (even though I didn’t finish my projects)Started doing 5km park runs every Saturday morning (and decided I like my technique of run-fast walk-run-fast walk-run)Read 5 booksWrote upwards of 65,000 words across various drafts and on this blog Socialised quite a bit Helped my Nan and my mom out in their time of need Ran my fastest 5kmRan my fastest 1km (not the same day as my fastest 5km)Made a plan for editing my finished drafts over the last 6 years so I can utilise themHad a reading day (the only day I felt no pain in my shoulder…) Started the 30 day explorer yoga challenge with Charlie Follows (advanced my practice, actually managed side crow!) Had a 5,000 word writing dayReconnected with my husband Renewed my library card and read 3 library books Learned what my reading tastes are Experimented with my writing style Did a family Olympics Rode my bike Learned a few new recipes Visited the beach and went into the sea Started my yoga training Did yoga and meditated outsideRoughly planned out a writing course that I may release one day Had counselling again Watched some artsy independent and acclaimed unique films on MUBIStarted eating more fruit (banana in porridge has been great!) Learned to rest (an ongoing project!)

There may be more that I’m not remembering, or don’t yet consider to be worthwhile. The thing is, we get so focused on what we didn’t do that we forget what we did do. We put such heavy pressures on ourselves that we don’t even celebrate our wins.

Lastly, I’ll say that why only live for summer? We can plan and socialise and have fun…gasp…any time of the year! Yes, there’s less sunshine but that’s not a guarantee for summer anyway, which this year proved. Have a bbq in October. Have a picnic in march. Write your novel slowly, across a whole year, instead of in the 6 weeks’ summer break. Why not?

Heys why not?

Sincerely,

S. xx

There is no big revelation: you just need to rest

Sometimes, the right thing was staring you in the face the whole time. We want something else to work so badly that we miss what was already right there in front of us. People too busy chasing the super hot guy, miss the loveable best friend character right beside them. People chasing millions and fame, miss the gifts they already have and the lives that they impact every day.

As I said before, I’ve been warned about the expectations I set for myself and the pressures that come with it, yet I’m still doing it! Why?! The 6 weeks holidays is coming to an end, so I’ve been rushing and stressing to get things done. Why?! Yes, I’ll have less time when I’m back at work, but it’s absolutely fine to still work towards my goals at a slower pace when I’m at work. There’s evenings and weekends and another break in October! Of course, I’d like to finish a draft of a novel this year. I have dabbled in a lot, but haven’t finished any novel drafts (only short stories). But it doesn’t mean my writing hasn’t been vast just because I don’t complete a draft. It doesn’t mean I haven’t worked hard. Forcing myself to finish quickly, only rushes the process and potentially means I end up in the same boat: with more drafts that I don’t feel good about.

What’s the point in that?

I need to accept and appreciate the fact that I have explored my writing style this year. I’ve written in a few newer styles and genres. I’ve tried and tried to repurpose old characters that I love, but haven’t managed to stick the landing. And that’s okay! Exploration is just as important as finishing. I know already that I can finish a draft. I’ve proven that to myself. What I need to do now is find my voice. Find what kind of writing suits me better and makes me feel excited. Then get good at editing and revising drafts.

At the end of the day, I’m burnt out. Burn out doesn’t just last one day and then disappear. I’m tired. I’m low on energy. I’m low on motivation. My mood is very turbulent. It’s okay to take a real break. It’s okay to accept that I may have only started projects, not finished ones, by the end of the year.

I need to go back to work next week feeling capable, not exhausted and depleted. This was supposed to be a relaxing and nourishing summer break, but I fear I’ve wasted it all stressing and pushing. What a shame.

It was right in front of me the whole time: I needed to rest, but I didn’t allow myself to. No big miracle. No huge revelation of what I need to do to succeed and change my life. I just need to rest. My head, my heart, my soul is tired! I’ve worked my mind so much, and my body to be honest, so now I need to give back. Refill the cup for the last few days of this break before I regret it.

What has been right in front of you this whole time, but you chose to ignore it?

Sincerely,

S. Xx

How to exorcise the demon Fear

Some wear their fears on their sleeve. We see their sweaty palms, pale faces, chatting teeth, rigid frame. Some are attacked in silence every day. Every night. Never free. Fear is tricky. On the one hand, it’s our friend m, right. It keeps us safe from danger. Reminds us what’s at stake.

But more often than not, it seems, fear is a liar. A foe to be defeated. Cruel. And it’s clever, that’s the problem. It’s powerful. It plays images in your mind that seem so real, you can’t even question it. The line between truth and reality is blurry.

It makes things we’re very capable of doing seem impossible with a few suggestive words and images, that they warp and twist into nightmares. Vivid colour, too. HD, 4K nightmares. You then can’t separate the nightmare-you from the real-you. So you deem it fact.

Fear is a plague. It spreads when we’re not careful. If we don’t catch it. You have to be formidable to spot it, face it, catch it, break its spell. It’s a process of a lifetime. A lifelong, terrifying exorcism of this demon we’re all born with. Just some people’s demons are bigger, and more powerful than others.

How to spot a demon/nightmare:

Makes you not want to do what you always wanted to doYou can’t stop thinking about the thing negatively Your sleep is impacted You live more in your head than in the nowYour stomach feels unsettled You don’t want to look after yourself anymore Your relationships are impacted You can’t focus You don’t feel like doing the things you once enjoyed Your heart is racing and chest feels heavyYour thoughts don’t stopYou want to run away

How to exorcise a demon:

Force yourself to do anything that brings you to the present moment because fear doesn’t exist in this moment, it can only latch onto you and grow when you’re thinking of the future or lamenting the past

This is a lifelong struggle for some of us. I’m sorry. Some have more demons than others. But you’re capable of exorcising them. You’re capable of breathing again.

(Don’t worry, these daily summer posts are soon coming to an end! Last week of them now!)

Sincerely,

S. xx

Gratitude for a slow Sunday morning

I didn’t sleep well. Therefore, I let myself sleep in so I had at least a few hours’ sleep, but getting up at 9am feels late to me. I immediately felt regret and upset. Like a day wasted. But that’s not fair to myself at all. So let’s correct that negative energy with some gratitude…

The soft touch of my husband’s hand on my armThe safe journey home after I drove at night on the motorway for the first time in 10 years of having my license Birdsong in the morning Good friends and easy conversations Tasty food Sundays Gentle breeze on a summer’s day Bank holidays Fresh bedsheets Friendly competition connecting people with games like the New York Times’ Connections, Wordle, etcForeign films The wholesomeness of the Olympics A fun run in the rain at the park yesterday to be proud of The community vibe and wholesomeness of the park run event in my area A glass of water in the morning All the gifts in each season: summer – energy; autumn – Halloween and colours; winter – rest and Christmas; spring – renewal and my birthdayNew beginnings How a shift in mindset can change your worldview and moodLists (something about them makes my brain happy!)Libraries

Now a that’s better

Sincerely,

S. xx

A life in books

I love watching the bookmark slowly progress deeper into the book. Turning page after page feels like I’m doing something right. Something that was meant for me.

It’s a similar feeling when I’m writing. I love watching the word count climb higher and higher. The satisfaction of hitting milestone numbers: 5,000, 10,000, 15,000, 20,000… It just feels right. It’s exciting. My own personal mini game! Can she get to 35,000 today?! Let’s see!

Even from when I was a little girl, I knew my life would be books. Well, I had a hunch. I didn’t realise just how much, though. That I would attach my fate, my worth, to the amount of books I’ve read in a month and the word count on my document that week. It’s not always healthy, but it motivates me. Gives me purpose.

The problem is I’ve attached my identity to it. I am a writer. I am a reader. It’s not something I do; it’s something I am. That’s the dangerous part; for if you’re struggling to do something, and it’s part of who you think you are, you suddenly don’t feel like you anymore.

It’s a tightrope walk.

The thing is, I pour parts of myself into my stories. The things I’m scared to say in any other way. The things I know to be true. The things that hurt. That things that frustrate me. What happens then when I finish a project and it doesn’t feel good? Or I put it out into the world and it isn’t received well? That hurts. It feels like a personal rejection. And when I read a good book, I feel like it’s someone pouring back into me. Saying, this is what I see as true; what I see as hurt; what I see as frustrating. It’s a conversation. An exchange. Cyclical.

When something is that special, should we even monetise it? Make it into a business? Make it serious and heavy? When you want something to last a lifetime, should you even force and track it, like I do my reading? It brings this desperation to the process. A desperation to this beautiful, precious thing that once just fuelled you. Now, it also drains you.

Maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s how life goes. There’s a difference between a hobbyist and a professional. I chose long ago to be an author, so I’ve made my bed, and I must deal with it. But my reading should remain a hobby, no? Or is reading and writing so intertwined that they can never be separated? So reading will never feel like just a hobby to me.

“Reading is breathing in, writing is breathing out. “

All I want in my life – at least, all I know for sure – is a life marked in books. A colourful bookshelf of enormity. A library ladder to get to the top! One that curves into every crevice of a space. And I want to say that I’ve actually read most of them! This one and that one is my favourite. Of course, I want my own books to be there, too. The spines to read my name, immortalising my life. My work. My mind, though flawed. I want people to read my work and think, “yeah, me too”. I want them to feel something, and be in it with me.

I want my life’s passions marked out in paper and letters and ink.

Sincerely

S. xx

Weathering the storm

When the wind lashes at the trees it sounds like rain. Close your eyes and there’s a whole storm out there. That’s what it’s like inside my mind. The reality is just a bit of wind blowing the trees, but my mind convinces me that it’s an horrendous storm that I can’t weather.

Opening the blinds, I find a bright blue sky. Fluffy white clouds polka dot the blue, reminding me of the wallpaper in Andy’s room in Toy Story. Feeling the cool breeze filtering in through the slither of a gap in the windows, I’m gently caressed awake. The funk of our slumber, though fractured and weak, is being replaced by this refreshing breeze. If only it were that simple for the mind, for the breeze to gently replace the funk.

The sound of a plane breaking through the sky is a roar from the gods. Thunderous and powerful. There’s a reason thunder and lightning storms have always terrified me: the gods are angry at me, I’d think. But half the time it’s just a plane. A real, tangible, logical thing. An everyday occurrence. And my thoughts can be planes, loud and scary, but they’re just planes. Just everyday things. Pay them no mind and they’re soon gone. The same is true for real thunder storms. They make more noise than damage.

My head makes more noise than damage.

The painting that is the view from my window is rather beautiful. A kaleidoscope of colour: blue, white, green, brown, and beige. As I walk over to the window, inviting myself to join the painting, I see more to add to the image. Now there’s the red from the neighbour’s flowerbed. Red on the neighbour’s bike. A golden glow casting over it all from the early sunlight. And that’s what I need to do to weather this storm: try to see more to create a bigger, clearer image. Maybe that’s all there is to it. Not changing anything, just seeing more to the truth of the matter. A wider perspective. A larger lens.

Sincerely,

S. xx

Why I need to lean into my weird

I want to live an unconventional life. Maybe “want” isn’t the right word but I’m drawn to one. I’ve accidentally already been unconventional. That’s the word my mom has used. I took an unconventional path for my university degree by dropping out of traditional university twice, then starting an Open University degree aged 24 and graduating aged 28. I self-published my first book at 18, very unconventional. I then went on to self publish more books through to age 21 and market those books by getting friends to act as characters from my books. Very cool.

What else? Hmm. The reason my mom used the word unconventional on me was because of my wedding and my thoughts about having children. Unlike the typical woman, apparently, I don’t seek these things. Marriage, kids, they didn’t appeal to me. At least, not the in a conventional sense. Instead, I had a small, intimate wedding. My dress cost £90 on sale online. We all laughed throughout the ceremony at the registry office. I had no bridesmaids and my husband no groomsmen. We had a bbq at our house afterwards. It was lovely. It was unconventional, but it was me, and therefore I could enjoy it, unlike being forced to do something big and elaborate. As for the kids part, I don’t know yet. But I’m sure it’ll be unconventional parenting on my part! I don’t want to be a helicopter parent. If I have children, I want them to be creative and kind and curious and open-minded. I would hate to raise them to be as scared of life as I am.

Every job I’ve gotten has been without my degree or any formal education, but purely on my own merit. That’s quite awesome and unconventional. Oh yes, I have just remembered. I created my own mental health awareness event at my local community centre, where I gave a talk, read my poetry and created a short film in honour of mental illness and awareness. I self-published a self-help book about anxiety and depression. I started an anxiety and depression support group locally, too. All pretty unconventional for a 20 year old to do. I was then invited to speak at a fashion show event that was honouring mental health, as well as a local community event for people struggling in their lives.

I’ve never liked to party or drink. I married my first and only real boyfriend. I didn’t start travelling really until I was 22 and even then it was slowly and timidly, every now and then. Travel terrifies me but I do it for the right places and to honour my desire to expand my worldview. I’ve “only” been to 10 countries, I think, unless you count The Vatican as another one! And that’s low by today’s standards but I have crossed off 3 continents which is quite cool. I’ve changed my views of travel and see it as a special gift, not something I should just do on a whim. Unconventional thinking in the modern world that glorifies travel.

Then when we do go somewhere, even when we went to Japan this year, I only bring a backpack. We stay in hotels not hostels so it’s not about the backpacking experience, it’s just simpler! Why carry more than you need, pay more and then feel bogged down? Perhaps that’s unconventional, too.

Everything I’ve done in an unconventional sense has lead to my greatest successes. Every time in lean into the weird, unusual, untraditional sides of myself, I am happier. When I try to force myself to do what everyone else is doing (luckily that’s rare), I’m less happy. I fall short.

My friend reminded me of this yesterday. That perhaps my anxiety and self-depreciation and restlessness comes from trying to live conventionally, but knowing in my soul that I’m not that person. There’s a weird, unconventional spirit inside of me that wants to get out. She wants to spread her weird wings! I’m not sure what this looks like yet; what parts of myself am I maybe suppressing or what things am I trying to do too traditionally. But I’m thinking about it, because it makes a lot of sense.

I need to let myself be me and love that person. Everybody else is taken.

Sincerely,

S. xx

Racing, racing, racing

I’m panting, breathless. My legs hurt from this race that will never end. I hopped into your lane at some point; when was that? But you’re too far ahead to see. I’m sure you lapped me when I wasn’t looking. Maybe when I was crying about my failures. Maybe when I was napping in a ball on the floor. Maybe when I was cursing you so violently, eyes scrunched up and hands balled into fists.

But you lapped me. You left me behind.

When did my body get so heavy? Feet thudding against the padded athletics track. Shoulders sagging, tense and tight. Arms barely moving now. I’m weighed down by expectations, societal pressures, obligations, fears, oh the fears!, and all the rest.

And there’s a crick in my neck from looking over into the other lanes. Sometimes, we’ve been neck and neck! I’ve sped up. Pushed my legs to do the impossible so I can pass them. Yes, look at me! I’ve done it. I’ve surpassed that stranger. I’m winning against them. Look at me!

My heart races. My chest burns. My throat aches. Wheezing sounds from my nose. Again, the heaviness sets in, asking why I pushed that last bit because now I’m even more fatigued. I can’t race much longer.

Then there they are, back to take their lead, surpassing me with ease because I’m too weak to close the gap. They don’t even look my way, just keep their steady pace, eyes dead ahead. Rude! Their figure is lost in the distance ahead of me, swallowed by sunlight.

How could I let this happen? I think I’ve started to crawl now. Hands and knees blistered and bleeding. Head sagging down. I’ve become the tortoise. Slow, heavy, hard. But in the story, yes, in the story the tortoise wins! He beats the hare. Yes, that’ll be me. I’ll beat them all in the end, just you watch –

But I look down and I realise, oh what a fool I’ve been. There is no athletics track beneath my feet. Nor a road or astroturfing.

I’m on a treadmill, going nowhere. All alone. Yes, that’s right, I’m all alone.

Sincerely,

S. xx

Maybe we can never truly understand ourselves

The mind, the brain, it’s a crazy thing. We use it to understand it. What a paradox. How utterly impossible a feat. Psychology aims to understand and categorise but I fear we never will, and that’s both beautiful and terrifying.

We have all these convenient hacks for the brain. How to optimise the mind. I’m sceptical. Not all of our minds are the same! And what about neurodivergence? Even, and especially, undiagnosed and unrecognised neurodivergence! So many of us have brains that work differently to atypical brains and yet we have no idea. We just beat ourselves up for not being able to do what others seem to do so easily.

I’ve always said that knowing yourself is important. It empowers us. It helps us to design our lives in the best way. It helps us to make decisions based on our values and beliefs. It helps us to combat things we don’t like and consciously make different choices.

Knowledge is power

But what if the knowledge is incorrect? We can go our whole lives believing something to be true about ourselves that is entirely false. Now that’s terrifying. Perception is so flawed, especially, perhaps, our perception of ourselves. What we think we see, how we interpret that information, then what we decide it means about us, is always going to be skewed data. A flawed system impacted by past incorrect data, hormones, basic needs being met that day, neurodivergence, trauma, illness, poor gut health, feelings and mood changes.

Each day, we may interpret the same information completely differently.

So what I think I’m saying here is, we’re always wrong! You’re not stupid because your brain gave you evidence that you are. You’re not lazy. You’re not a failure. You’re not even a genius. You’re not the best person. You’re just a flawed, confusing, capable human being who is complicated and constantly trying, to no avail, to understand itself.

Perhaps we ought to stop trying altogether. Or, at least, question all the data we receive and know that there’s room for error.

Sincerely,

S. xx

Protecting your energy and gaining more peace

Here are some ways that I believe you can protect your energy and feel a sense of peace in your life – hard part is, they’re not easy to do! However, I think they work because they strip things back to the basics and honour the truth under all the chaos…

Make sure your basic needs are met: sleep, water, nutritious foods, shelterDon’t take things personally – it’s not about you, it’s about themOwn less stuffBe okay with people not liking you (this is very hard for me, but it’s a freeing idea) Have a shorter to do listSay no when you mean no and learn not to feel bad or have to explain yourselfRemove the pressure of needing to get everything right and perfect all the time Organise your space so it encourages the right behaviours and feels inspiring Don’t buy foods that aren’t good for you (that way you can’t reach for them when you’re not feeling good within) Curate your social media accounts to show only people and things that inspire and educate Set aside dedicated time for relaxation and boredom Create systems so you have to make less decisions each day, like planning outfits, planning workouts, prepping to do lists etc Have dedicated no-phone time and spaces Set boundaries and honour them, eg I am not okay with being called at 9pm, hearing my family offload their emotions onto me Meditate (or do something gentle and quiet)Ask for help and delegate tasks Focus, prioritise and plan realistically – you can’t do everything at once! If something is playing on your mind, take action towards itWhen nothing else is going right, just read or go for a walk (reading is gentle exercise for the mind and walking is gentle exercise for the body, so both work!)Use your voice and speak your truth

Sincerely,

S. xx