On reclaiming persistence
A not-sexy year-end fieldnote
I’m ready to stop. I want to eat my own bodyweight in mince pies and hibernate for winter. The new weighted blanket my sister gifted me at fake Christmas day isn’t helping. Sleeping under it is like being hugged all night, but you can actually sleep. I’ve crawled back under it to write this to you.
This week my thoughts have turned to the year gone by. Not in a ‘let’s learn from it and plan for 2024 way’ but in a slow, meandering way. A gentle noticing of what’s served, what hasn’t and what that might mean.
One word that’s emerged as I’ve looked back, mince pie(s) in hand [I couldn’t wait], is persistence.
It’s not very sexy is it? Or joyful. It’s a dry word. It has a bullish energy. Military, even. But it’s a word that came up, and I resonate with it. Or a particular flavour of it, which has nothing to do with the armed forces or pushing, striving or straining.
That’s how persistence has felt in the past, but 2023 has taught me what it can feel like when directed towards a deeply-held longing: Deeply satisfying.
It can be gentle. Self-compassionate.
We can pause in the midst of persistence.
Which is what I feel called to do right now.
Last week my editor uttered the words I’d dared to hope she would, but was 80% certain she wouldn’t in response to the latest draft of my manuscript.
“You are almost there.”
[Cue happy dance!]
Much has led to this point, and one is the reclamation of persistence.
When using this well-honed muscle in the corporate world I was usually left depleted. As I achieved each goal there was an emptiness. Is this it? Is this what all that hard work was for?
Will it feel the same when I finish the book? Will it feel hollow? I suspect it may a little, because whilst this is a soul-led project it is still a ‘thing' I am producing and I’m still learning to disentangle my self-worth from what I ‘achieve’.
Our patterns follow us around. They are stubborn. The book project feels alive and nourishing - more like music college, than business school - and this pattern is still here. It’s still part of me.
I’m hoping that noticing it [again] allows it to loosen its hold a little more. I hope it makes more space for the joy and freedom that lives underneath it, to breathe and exist.
However you choose [or not] to reflect at this time of year, may it nourish you in the ways you need it to.
Podcast interview: What it looks and feels like to follow your calling
One joy Glitter and Biscuits has brought is new and deepened friendships.
A couple of months ago I recorded this episode with one such friend and fellow creative adventurer Ryan James, for his podcast We Won’t Die Wondering. Ryan is a talented coach and hosts regular 'Wonder Wanders' near Bristol, UK - connecting days out in nature for likeminded souls to come together, rest, reflect, let go, let rip, roar and find their way :) The next one’s happening on 29th December.
When we’re throwing our creations out into the world, having people who get it, and us, makes all the difference. He is one of those people to me, and I’m grateful to know him.
In this conversation, we explore the topic of showing up for the creative longings that call to us, with an eye on it being nourishing and sustainable for all: whoever might receive what we make, and for us as creators.
If you take a listen, I hope you enjoy :)
Thank you for being here.
With love,
Claire
Find me elsewhere:
Instagram: @clairemackinnonwrites
Website: clairemackinnon.com
LinkedIn: Claire Mackinnon