This collection is for those of us who have struggled. The world has gone through so much since the pandemic started, and in many ways we've all let out a collective groan and a puckered sigh, ravaged from the past two years, still recovering and picking ourselves up.
These words and art were carefully and lovingly poured over, refined at every stroke. It seeks to cradle and bring assurance in the every day moments where we may be tempted to languish.
It celebrates the little things, of life lived in the ordinary, and assures you that each step you take matters. Even here, even now. More so here, more so now.
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A personal note from the creator of Beginning Simply, Simply Beginning
Like many, life was difficult as the pandemic started. A little bit before it came on in full swing, I thought the panic disorder I overcame a few years earlier came back in full swing as well. It became more debilitating as it affected my commutes, or doing things as simple as stepping out of the house to take a walk, or buy groceries. The simple things, the normal things, the essential things—like feeding myself and my family, exercising, taking a breath of fresh air—became increasingly laborious and terrifying. The mysterious nature of the pandemic added on another layer of fear, and the atmosphere in my mind was often suffocating.
What could I have done?
There were days I simply wanted to give up on many areas of my life. I wanted to give up on myself as well. I was troubled and wondered why I was suffering in this way. I often left train rides or bus rides in tears because of the stress that comes from experiencing a panic attack. I stood in the queue at the grocery store and felt the fear working its way through my nervous system, my breath getting shorter, my body in fight or flight mode, ready at any time to drop my basket and flee.
How was I supposed to live my life?
But while I questioned my ability to do what seemed like simple things many others could, I had kind, compassionate voices of a mental health professional and loved ones telling me that the little things were worth it and to keep at them. That resonated—to never despise the little things I tried to do no matter how hard they seem in that moment. And even to notice the little things within my context.
To do that, I kept journals and tried to work at being conscientious every day through paper and pen, tracking the little things, celebrating them, making mistakes, learning from them...
I'm on the other side of that season, though, on occasion, I do still struggle. But the faithfulness in the little things kept buoying me through.
I hope this encourages you to do the same as well, from one survivor to another, and to share your story whether you're in the midst of it, or when you're brave enough to. To put pen to paper and to mark down all the little things, your efforts, your dreams, your work, your mistakes, your learnings, your life.
Love,
Charlotte
