I’m still milking all those lovely pictures that I took during my five days in Provence. I was going to say that this is because ‘I don’t get out much’, but I think I may have complained in the past about my work involving too much travel, so it won’t be plausible. Also, I seem to be attending an awful lot of cultural events since moving back to the UK.
So my only excuse is: it’s the misery of November, we’ve got to compensate somehow. You can see why artists are so attracted to that region – the lights and colours are unbelievable (all are taken without any filters, simply with my phone, which sometimes suffers in poor light conditions).
I didn’t mind the gloomy weather – besides, the Luberon needed some rain after an exceptionally dry summer. I just curled up in my cosy room and read and wrote. One of the books I stumbled across was Hugh Prather’s Notes to Myself. The author was a counsellor and lay minister, who wrote this slim volume of New Age/Christian wisdom, aphorisms, inspirational thoughts, which became a huge hit in the 1970s. It perfectly captured the spirit of the time.
I cannot ‘make my mark’ for all time. Nothing will have meaning ultimately. Nothing will even mean tomorrow what it did today. Meaning changes with the context. It is enough that I am of value to someone today. It is enough that I make a difference now.
Why do I judge my day by how much I have ‘accomplished’? I am holding this cat in my arms so it can sleep, and what more is there. [This consoled me as I realised that I would not finish my first draft.]
Perfectionism is slow death, If everything were to turn out just like I would want it to, just like I would plan for it to, then I would never experience anything new; my life would be an endless repetition of stale successes. When I make a mistake, I experience something unexpected.
A sure way for me to have a disastrous experience is to do something because ‘it will be good for me.’
There may be a natural, healthy kind of fear, but the fear I don’t like and want not the obey is the fear that urges me to act contrary to my own feelings or to act before I know what my feeling are. It is usually a fear of displeasing other people.
If the desire to write is not accompanied by actual writing, then the desire is not to write. Standing before the refrigerator. If I have to ask myself if I’m hungry, I’m not. [Ouch! This one stung a little!]
If someone criticizes me I am not any less because of that. It is not a criticism of me but critical thinking from him.. He is expressing his thoughts and feelings, not my being. Before, I thought I was actually fighting for my own self-worth, that is why I so desperately wanted people to like me. I thought their liking me was a comment on me, but it was a comment on them.
findingtimetowrite 
Just what’s needed on a grey November morning in the UK! I love that ochre, and that quote about perfectionism should be a set text in schools. Thanks, Marina.
Oh those colours and picture postcard vignettes. I am still drooling
Beautiful. Perfectionism is slow death – been there recently, waiting for a gentle resurrection.
A thoughtful, moving, helpful post Marina Sofia, thank you. And beautifully illustrated too
What a lovely post, Marina Sofia! On all counts. The ‘photos are gorgeous, and I can see how the region would be so appealing to people. Those thoughts on perfectionism and on trying to accomplish ‘it all’ (whatever ‘it all’ even is) really resonated with me.
Beautiful pictures and quotes – thank you for sharing these.
Beautiful. The post and the photographs.
Milk away! Brill shots 😄
Beautiful photos! And yes, a person’s thoughts are very much a reflection of them and not if you. I’ve learned that one x
It is so dreary here today all the beautiful color in your photos was a real bright spot. Thanks for sharing them!
It all looks so beautiful and I love the quote about accomplishments – I think we are all so driven these days that we forget just how to be, sometimes.
Oh stunning… just as effective for a bitterly cold dark evening too 🙂