Bagagge App

The Baggage App may allow you to ‘check’ your luggage and store it safely where you can access it at any point. The Baggage App won’t change your circumstances, but it can help carry your emotional load. It is a safe space for you to store your emotional baggage and process it. It is somewhere you can come back to and unpack what you are holding, sit with it and repack it for safe keeping.

Identity

I have purposefully withdrawn from blogging for the last few months for a couple of reasons; 1) pure morbid, self-indulgent self-pity and 2) no, no other reason…. But with my melodrama now fading and a new ‘normal’ settling into place, I am ready to engage with the world again. Whilst in my self-imposed hiatus I have had time to reflect and in between the teeth gnashing and fist waving at the universe, I have done a LOT of journaling. It was during this time I also did a piece of art called ‘Identity’.

I started it when I first stopped working, when my pain was acute and before it became chronic and I still had a belief my life would carry on as it had done (with a few adjustments). The focus of the painting is a fingerprint and I originally wrote words or ‘labels’ in each groove. I was struggling with who I now was, now that I wasn’t working and how I saw myself in the world and how I presumed the world saw me. I used words like “loser”, “disabled”, “fat”, “short” (some were clearly just descriptive) - don’t worry, I also did put some positive words in those grooves too. It was basically an anthology of how I now saw myself; keeping in mind the past few months were spent in pure morbid, self-indulgent self-pity.

Then something changed, I can’t tell you why or how; but I looked at my painting and it wasn’t right. I had already hung it in my lounge room and was fairly happy with it, but for some reason I had to change it. So I painted over the words and was left with a ‘clean’ fingerprint. Importantly the words are still there and if you look really closely some still are visible, like shadows from the past.

I am not where I thought I would be at 47 years old, but I am here nonetheless. I have an opportunity to re-write my identity, to clear all my own labels, to press re-start. All my past is still there and I acknowledge, celebrate and occasionally swear at it; but I am free to add new words to those grooves (and again paint over them if I don’t like them).

Happy New Year and remember you can always paint over the labels and start again.

 

 

 

 

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