A couple of weeks ago I blogged about getting in really close. I referred to my love for taking macro photos, for filling my lens with the subject.

And writing that post made me want to share something else with you, something breathtaking, something astonishing.

This (above and below) is an anemone. Quite took my breath away the first time I saw it. With good reason, I think you’ll agree.

And that’s another reason I take macro shots, to see the unexpected, exquisite detail revealed by the lens.

I love that; I love getting in close, seeing the stuff I didn’t even know was there.

Which explains, rather succinctly, why I love the work I do!

Related posts:

1. I discover hidden jewels… In 1991, when Mr N and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary, we bought a...
2. Get close, look deep, see beauty I love what I find when I use my macro lens to  look beyond the...
3. Art for a change We all create every day, they say. It’s true: we do. You do. And yet:...
4. Focus in on the good stuff It’s so easy to focus on what’s not great in our lives, isn’t it? Somehow...

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” Anaïs Nin

Do you ever feel it’s just plain easier to leave things as they are? To tell the world, ‘I’m too old to change’, ‘that’s just me’, ‘you can’t teach an old dog new tricks’ and plod on. With a feeling of regret in your guts, perhaps a rueful smile and a slightly brittle chuckle. ‘Hey ho, plus ça change!’

After all, change is risky, isn’t it?

Or is it?

Or is it in fact a damn sight riskier to stay put, all your potential stuffed away inside, unable to see the light of day, unable to blossom?

It’s that old comfort zone thing again. We all know people who are stuck in bad jobs, situations, relationships, stuck in a way that is risking their well-being, yet still making that move away feels impossible.

And it was a risk for me, when I decided to bring all my stuff together, my four website and four blogs and gather them up in a new and spacious place.

After all to change means ploughing my own furrow, moving away from the model of how to present my selfs on line, a model which I’d believed in up to now. I have to take responsibility, I have to speak out, interact, engage with a community of peers in other disciplines. I have to manage my time differently in order to do this. I have to change habits.

So, why did I take that risk?

Because to stay like I was had become riskier by far. Feeling that I wasn’t doing what I’m here for, not living in my true colours - that felt like a risk.

It was time to uncurl; I’d remained foetal for way too long.

And so I’ve done it.  I’ve uncurled. 

Opening out has increased my surface area, opened me up to more scrutiny. That’s why it felt – feels – risky as hell.   But it’s also extended me.  It’s opened things up. That’s why I knew it was a risk worth taking, the only path I could take. 

I knew the day, the life-changing, habit-shattering, time-altering, risk-taking, light-letting-in, Jan-blossoming day, had come.

Related posts:

1. Art for a change We all create every day, they say. It’s true: we do. You do. And yet:...
2. Waves of change Every wave transforms, covers, washes, gives and takes The tide, the rhythm of the moon,...
3. Time for some radical unbranding I don’t know if you ever have that feeling that ‘something’s got to change’.  I’ve...
4. On value and recognition We know so well, don’t we, all that stuff about change having to happen within...

I don’t know if you ever have that feeling that ‘something’s got to change’.  I’ve had it in a low key way, rattling around at the back of my mind, for quite a few years.  In recent months the whisper got louder, turning into a demand, an imperative I could no longer ignore.

Something big, something seismic, had to change.

And this time I didn’t just want to add on, I wanted to let go.  Let go of some the things that were no longer serving me (or you), sites and links that were confusing, a message, a presence and an identity that was no longer reflecting the woman I’d become.

I kept being drawn to integrate the whole lot, to take the personal development work and juxtapose it with the web design and the blogging. ‘But it’ll be too confusing’ screeched my gremlin, and I’d put the idea aside and continue getting a little anxious pang every time I tried to figure out which site/blog to link with my name when I commented on others’ writing.

Then a few weeks ago I got ill, just for a day. I lay shivering and sneezing on the sofa and started to write in my journal about how I felt. And you know what? The writing played its magic and I began to feel clear and full of certainty. I had to do it, bring everything together. Ah, the relief.

But where to start? It feels huge, doesn’t it, when you decide that everything needs to change. And if you’re anything like me, it has to happen NOW!

And isn’t it brilliant when you reach a momentous decision like that how suddenly the Universe contrives to reinforce it, to give you a smile, a wink and an ‘off you go, you’re doing grand’. So it was no real surprise that I soon found this article on Danielle LaPorte’s site.  No surprise maybe, but what a fabulous feeling that someone else had struggled with the same stuff as me, come to a similar conclusion and made this world-as-I-know-it shattering choice, and done it so spectacularly.

So, it starts here. This site is going live, TODAY! No design yet, no proper home page. I haven’t even started to write the content. But it feels important to start to share the journey, and to finally have somewhere to call my virtual home!

Related posts:

1. Writing changes things I’ve been reading around the research on the power of writing to bring about real...
2. Change – a risky business “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more...
3. Write here, write now There is absolutely no doubt about it, my clients who have the most success, make...
4. Ending is part of my new beginning It’s galling, isn’t it, when you’re mad keen to get on with something, but the...