Why We Need Fiction.

Since man learnt to write, we have been devouring bits of writing and entering new worlds, creating new words and worlds using our voices and any writing implements that are available to us. Fiction, at it’s core, allows us to communicate with each other and even with strangers. It opens doors to telling our own stories through characters and lets us peep into the lives of strangers who we then learn to love as we turn page after page.

We need fiction because we need escapism and information. We need it because we need a reassurance that we’re going to be okay.


Thanks for reading and Happy New Year (or Happy End of January),
Elizabeth

AutumnĀ 

For those of you who know me, you’ll know Autumn is my favourite season and I practically eulogise about it. There are so many reasons I love this time of the year. 

The colours are beautiful, every nook and cranny of earth appears to be covered by a litter of orange, brown and red leaves making everywhere look aflame in glory. It happens so strangely, too. Languidly leaves begin to litter the ground and drop from the grasp of the fingers of the trees. A sea of green is created from a seemingly all green canopy. And then BAM! Dots of orange start to appear everywhere; in the trees, on the ground and all of a sudden Autumn has reared its beautiful face into view. Suddenly the reds and yellows start to appear too and then, before you know it, there are shades of a colour scheme that can only described to me as a Pumpkin-Spice-Palette. 

Autumn comes as summer fades and the leaves begin to fall. It happens strangely and yet so peacefully- slowly and all at once, like the beginnings of a thunderstorm; a low rumble rapidly tumbling into a full blown tempest. 

Hope you enjoyed that little Autumn appreciation post- I have been without wifi for numerous days now so I have really been enjoying the outside world and the wonderous beauty that autumn brings about the world. 

Stay well dudes, 

Elizabeth

Photo taken by me šŸ™‚

Anxiety and I

Anxiety and I go back a while, I guess you could even consider us old friends. But more probably, old foes. We were never extremely close when I was small, but it was always there, in the back of my mind.

It made me question myself. Question my morals, my work, my effort. When I tried my hardest at something and gave it my all, that was when it came a little closer; inching towards me like a predator does its prey until it does a quick swipe and the prey enters fight or flight mode.

I guess you could kind of say that I didn’t quite enter that mind-set. Suddenly, as it made its swipe, I was stunned, like a rabbit in headlights and I wasn’t sure what to do. What was that? The voice of reason? Whatever it was, I listened. It convinced me that I wasn’t good enough. I convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough. Soon enough, that idea was being carved into my brain repeatedly, each carving cut deeper than the last.

Okay. I know I sound dramatic but I’m trying to illustrate how anxiety can influence people’s thought processes and how it has influenced mine in the past. Anxiety and I became closer as I got older. When I was 11 I was convinced that practically everything I did was wrong; I lost a few friends, thinking I had upset them and that I was annoying so I kept my distance. I had a few family issues at that time in my life, and I partly blamed myself for them. Anxiety had become synonymous with reason. I’m a bad person. I am to blame. They don’t like me. I annoy and upset my friends. These are just a few of the thoughts that ran through my head, flashing in the forefront of my mind. It felt as though these overwhelming notions were pinning me down, bruising me and forcing me to question myself. I’d like to point out though that my parents and teachers were very supportive of the things I did, and were (and still are) absolutely lovely. But it was as if their words we like a whisper, and anxiety’s a shout through a megaphone.

It is only now that I’m a bit older that I can see that this isn’t healthy for me. That doesn’t mean that I never listen to my anxieties because that would be a very big lie, but I do try to let the thoughts go when they’re all running and breaking apart in to millions of sub-thoughts like sparks from a firework. I let them die out and try not to allow myself fan the sparks into a flame because honestly, it’s not worth it.

If you too suffer from the aches and pains that anxiety hoist upon us then I really hope it gets better for you soon. I recently was told that self-compassion is an important thing to practice and so that’s what I’m trying to work on. I’ll try not to punish myself if I make mistakes because making them is how I am going to learn; making them is how I am going to grow as a person. I am enough. You are enough. Anxiety sucks. But I am not my anxiety and nor are you yours. We are humans and we’re pretty damn awesome, even if we don’t feel it sometimes.

Stay well dudes,

Elizabeth

 

 

What’s in a Name?

hello-my-name-is_design
Juliet:
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”
Romeo and Juliet (II,ii,1-2)

Thinking about names is always interesting to me. These things which we go by, that are part of our identity; that are part of who we are as individuals and part of the definition of everyone. It is these things that set us apart from each other and make us all unique.

Sure there will be other people called Tom, and other people called Janie.Ā There areĀ over 7 billion of us!Ā ButĀ YOU are the only oneĀ who is entirely you. You are the only Janie who has that distinct combination of personality traits and the only one with those finger prints. You are 100% you. That’s something I’m pretty thankful for because without this overwhelming uniqueness that everyone possesses, everything would be incredibly dull. Possibly even duller than waiting for artificial grass to grow. (I know! Dullness like thatĀ can beĀ deadly.)

The shadow of the name is of course the meaning. The meaning behind my name is that my great-grandmother was called Elizabeth so therefore, my name was secured, however I personally like to believe that I’m actually named after Jane Austen heroine, Elizabeth Bennet. But hey, that’s just me. ‘Oath of God’ is apparently what Elizabeth means according to multiple baby name websites. I’m not particularly religious so I don’t really know how I feel about that meaning so I think I’ll say that Elizabeth means strong and smiley. Why not.

You might be wondering what ‘Osbwaec’ means. Well, fear not my friend! Osbwaec stands for ‘Our story begins with an empty chair’ and for those of you can’t quite pinpoint where you might have heard it before, it’s the first lineĀ from Nanny McPhee (2005).

Feel free to comment down below the meaning behind your name and what you feel the meaning of your name should be.

Stay well dudes,

Elizabeth