For me, the best place for a fresh start or to begin a new project is on my birthday - the beginning of my year. So the year I was 21, I did a photo a day project (that ended up including an internship in Cleveland, meeting/dating my now-husband Adam, and going to New York to work for Vogue Knitting - so I'm retrospectively glad that I committed to documenting that particular year!), and the year I was 24, I knitted the sky (one row on a scarf each day in the color of the sky). So for 27, I'm doing lists. I'm going to roughly follow along with the book The 52 Lists Project.
First, from last week:
A list of the things I should ignore
Nothing. Nothing is improved by being ignored - emotions must be processed, events must be addressed, conflict must be resolved... and Small Persons should never not ever be out of sight for any amount of time.
Ahem. Moving on to this week's list...
A list of ways to rejuvenate my space
I can't think of a good way to condense this into a list... Since we moved into our house less than a year ago, and I am not shy about painting an accent wall in every room as I have the time and the paint/making as many nail holes as it takes to get a gallery wall right/spray painting things I don't like the color of, that "space" doesn't really need to be rejuvenated.
However, I mentioned awhile back that my inner attic has been getting a thorough cleaning, albeit involuntarily. My life, in reverse, flashing before my eyes, projected onto an imaginary screen and accompanied by some fairly illuminating commentary (amazing how differently we see situations from our childhood when we're able to look back at them with the experience and perception of adulthood).
A lot of things have also been thrown out - ideas and ideologies that were, at best, flawed. Some of them were the foundations of whole stacks of things that also came tumbling down, and I felt a little lost for awhile, like that last night you spend in your home, before you move but after you've packed everything away into the moving truck and all you saved out was your pillow and maybe a blanket (if you were thinking clearly by the time you finished loading boxes at 2am).
But painted on the floor under the very last box, I found a prime directive of sorts - the things I have always believed in, even when they didn't make sense. Beautiful and not safe, but good. The second is from the Chronicles of Narnia - expressing apprehension about going to ask the lion Aslan to help them rescue their brother, Peter asks if He is safe. "Safe?" says Mr Beaver. "'course He's not safe. But He's good." The first is the highest compliment I can pay, the goal of my every pursuit, and a truth I've always stood by.
So on the newly cleared walls of my mind, I've hung that word and that phrase as posters - big and bold, front and center. I'm not sure what it looks like to live a dangerously beautiful life, but I'm looking forward to finding out!