We are golden

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Ladies & gentlemen, from the depths of my duvet, wrapped around a christmas-y hot water bottle, I bring you a beautiful concept that originated in 15th century Japan. Never have I felt so moved by something that I simply couldn't rest  until I'd shared it with you...but here we are.
I present to you; Kintsugi. The art of embracing damage and the appreciation of brokenness. Essentially, when a piece of china was broken, if the owner could afford such luxuries, the pieces would be sent to a joiner who would piece it back together. However, instead of using resin, or paste, the joiner would use gold to hold together the reassembled piece, thus highlighting the ghost of damage. The art of kintsukuori highlights how beautiful healing is. The metaphor of all of us having been broken at some point, or feeling lost and without hope- but celebrating how beautiful these scars have made us...It swells my heart.
The art's philosophy has similarities to the Japanese philosophy by the name of wabi-sabi, which encourages and praises the embracing of flaws. It also encompasses the beauty of an object growing as it is used- and it needing to be repaired is the ultimate sign of beauty, as it has been used alot, thus has lived alot. Essentially, the philosophy is telling us that the scars of experiences we gain from life make us more beautiful, because we have lived. And that in itself is a wonderful thing.
Not only are examples of kintsugi absolutely gorgeous, but they're an incredible reminder that we are all only human. And instead of hiding away our cracks and breaks, it's a shining example of why we should wear these scars with pride. Because they are beautiful. As are we. We are more beautiful for having been broken, and reassembled, than to have never been broken at all.

What I Mean...

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So this slice of the interest is now about 4 days old/active, and I feel before I launch into a whole host of wonderful stuff I'm creating at present, I want to get down to basics. Before there is anything to strip back, lay out the bare bones of what e.m.i.p really means to me. Because I suppose what it means to me will translate into my work, and thus become an ethos of sorts.
Each moment is precious holds such a wide scope. But it's one of the truest thing to say, because the truth is that each moment you spend, be it awake, or asleep, or with or without a loved one, is precious. Because our lives are short- wonderful blips in the stream of time. We aren't given an eternity to understand the world around us, and as a human community, we are all blessed with different experiences. The time we have is unspeakably precious. Even those moments when you're working overtime, and have been on your feet for 8 hours and are rather grumbly and hungry. Even those moments after you've climbed a tonne of stairs and are out of breath because the whole gym thing never really worked out for you. Each and every moment is important, because it's one of a limited number.
I named this blog "Each Moment is Precious" over "Every Moment is Precious" because each stresses the importance of the individual moment. Away from the collective mindset that blocks together moments into minutes and hours and days and weeks. To me, each moment is precious puts emphasis on relishing each individual moment, and appreciating it for what it is.
And I hope to share some of the most beautiful, humble and ordinary moments I can find on this (newly designed) slice of interweb.

What is to come...

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So I'm laying in bed, having just slaughtered some pretty tasty vegan hot chocolate, with a hot water bottle, grinning. I like this set up alot. I'm mighty chuffed because I've been struck with inspiration for E.M.I.P today, from photography projects I want to do, to more serious writing. I've been making near-illegible scribbles all day (even on napkins at work). I love having ideas, because it means I have content to play around with, and see what people really like to read / see.
My personal plans for the immediate future encompass going to visit Max, drinking lots of tea and probably taking my hot water bottle with me everywhere I go, regardless of whether or not it is appropriate (cuddly lectures for the win).
Sorry that today's post doesn't have much oomph, but today has been an oomph-day. Kind of like humpday, only better for the soul.

How's your day been? What are you excited about at the moment?

Sick Shift Musing

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This made me smile today, so I thought I'd share it with you

Hey friends! How was your day?

Mine was kind of hectic. I called in sick to work (because I am in the dark swirling depths of poorly-ness at present), and ended up there anyway. 'Understaffed' and 'overbooked' are my least favourite words when put together during a morning briefing.
Anyhu, fast forward 7 and a half hours, I had a few pleasant realisations that I'm glad of. Last night was the celebration of one my lovely flatmate's birthdays, and she got le plastered. She reappeared around 3am with a gentleman of similar sobriety (none) and promptly vommed all over one of the bathroom floors. Long story short, I stayed up nursing her a little, even though I, myself, am rather ill, and ordering and feeding her pizza, and politely asked the night guest to leave. By the time I got to bed properly, I had a few hours of sleepy time left before I needed to be up for work. And I didn't mind.
And today at work, I was hopelessly grotty within myself because it just felt like one of those days. You know the ones...tired, ill, grouchy, everything-is-against-me type days. And "those days" do happen...but today wasn't really one of them. I realised, mid-serving a cucumber martini, that my inner grumpiness may've permeated my polite, cool and professional (I hope) waitress mode. And none of the customer's had ever done anything to me beyond asking for a drink I have to run into the other restaurant to grab! Why be grumpy, and let those bad vibes into the world around me when I could be calm and smiley inside?
What's so wrong with helping other people when they need you, like when my flatmate needed just a little bit o' (flatemately) tenderness? And what's so wrong with, instead of letting frustrating things consume you, treating them as they are- temporary?
I've somewhat lost where I was going with this, but the core of this is that if it feels like it's one of those days, have hope. Because "those days" are quite often defined by us, and once we label it "one of those", we're in the mindset that things will only get worse. Quote to sum it up: It's a bad day, not a bad life.

And it may just be a bad hour, or minute, or shift. No day is wholly, unforgivably bad. So keep your chins up, you beautiful people. 

What keeps you awake at night? (One)

Whilst perusing tumblr late one night / early one morning, I came across a picture with the loaded question "what keeps you awake at night?" scrawled across in easy, flowing text. And unlike the many gorgeous pictures I scroll past on tumblr each day, the message resonated. And it got me thinking.
What does my subconscious deem so important as to let such things race about my mind when I'm trying to catch a bit o'shut eye? I pondered this whilst sipping an unholy number of cups of tea (and the occasional pumpkin spice latte) and am trying to condense it into what you are about to read. I can't promise this will be what keeps me awake forever (which is why I'm breaking it down into segments, so every so often you get a view of my thoughts), but in this moment, whilst my life is as it is...This is one of many things that keep me awake;

Missing him. I hate to start a series with something that screams "dependent" on another being, but I'm just one soul, and the truth is that the distance between myself and the man I have fallen deeply in love with saddens and excites and hurts and uplifts me. Each time we see each other, my heart feels full and happy and I feel as though I get a glimpse into how heaven would feel. Each time we part, I am saddened. And the echoes of those feelings quite often have me lying awake and counting my blessings. And the nights I am lucky enough to share with him, I am kept awake by his breath on my cheek, and the way he looks as he falls asleep.

Soppiness aside, there's one thing. How about you...What keeps you awake at night?