1. August 22, 2019

After several weeks of what have often felt like accumulated disorientation and overwhelm, this week has felt like the sun beginning to peep through the clouds, and with it, a process of integration and re calibration. 

I began the week on Sunday with an intentional shift in my attention. A previous focus in my personal life had left me with a feeling of distraction to an extent that I did not fully realize until I stepped outside of it, took a deep breath and looked at it kindly, but honestly. Setting a new boundary around my attention in this way is new for me, and is a muscle I am looking to build and continue to practice using.

 And it opened up space for an inspiring, fulfilling week! I’m thinking back with gratitude and joy on the new things I built space for this week: riding my bike to a new place (uphill, very hard!), meeting members of the Hudson community through the Future Hudson event and finding joy in appreciating the links to my previous work, attending a dance performance and giving myself space to appreciate others’ art, going to the lumber yard and feeling empowered and strong and capable in designing and building something with a team. A few things that are growing in me: A love of designing things and making things! A presence in my body and the satisfaction that comes from doing many types of work in a day. A joy in making sense of a group’s ideas, and making connections between people and systems. A continual stretching of my capacities, and realization of my capabilities in being there for others. A recognition of my strengths. 

I am looking at new ways to integrate the many puzzle pieces I am attempting to design and fit together in this year. And I am seeing all the ways in which they are linked. This week has felt like a real test case in what it means to practice being my ‘aspirational self' (thanks Jenny Odell, for a framework for thinking about how to spend our time well). I am feeling grateful to be able to give them all attention this year.

IMG_1072.jpg
Martha Snow