The Getting to Know Ourselves project collects short, honest reflections from people around a single theme at a time. By seeing many perspectives together, we notice patterns, discover shared experiences, and remember that we are not alone.
Read more about the project here.
Here are the reflections from the first theme, “Surroundings”.
Different people, different places, different moments layered together.
As you read, I invite you to notice what feels familiar. Notice what such simple, open questions can evoke.
Unlike social media platforms where posts are often unrelated, this is what it looks like when we respond to specific questions and share a little of our inner worlds under a specific theme.
I had no idea who was going to respond to this invitation but as I see everyone’s reflections side by side it seems to make perfect sense.
To see these beautiful, reflections side by side is reminiscent of a sharing circle, an intentional space where everyone involved has the space to truly complete their train of thought, to offer what is alive for them, without feeling rushed or judged, or like someone’s going to interrupt. So often we hurry through what we’re trying to say for fear of taking up someone’s time, or we doubt ourselves because of what the person before us might have said. There is a simple beauty in reading exactly how each of the contributing writers felt upon reflection of each question, their answers side by side, yet totally uninfluenced by each other.
Janie, Tom, Áine, Catherine, Michael, Sonam, Kanika, allow me to introduce you to each other.
Where are you right now, and what do you notice about this place?
Janie:
I can hear the low hum of a distant helicopter and the intermittent banging of a hammer, and birds singing. It’s otherwise very quiet. The morning sunlight is filtering through clouds. I can see the sea and the tide’s out. It is home
Tom:
Sat in my home studio in an old stable block just south of Devizes, Wiltshire. It feels like home. I don't know why, but i feel that i am connected to this place intrinsically. I LOVE being close to Avebury and Silbury hill, these places really matter, and show us that there is something bigger to this world that we still don't understand. I think we understand less of that than 'people' did when they made those monuments were built. The sun came out today, it was/is wonderful! All flowers are close to coming out, the world moves fast, we have no option but to stay on the ride, this is a nice point of the ride!
Áine:
In my room, it's evening, close to bedtime. It's winter. My desk and I face a window: vague tree silhouettes sway outside, but mostly I see just myself looking at me, I see these walls behind me now in front of me, I see everything inside-out, reflecting back to me in this glass opaqued by night. It's quiet too. Outside, a little wind floats and faffs about a bit. Somewhere a distant church bell also sings (do they have mass on Mondays at 9pm???) I also hear the scribbling sound of this pencil moving across this page -- this tiny piece of paper! A lamp in the corner of the room is switched on but not the one on this desk –-that one’s a bit too glaring and my eyes feel too tired tonight. There is enough light. There’s a sweet smell of a mug of tea beside me, after all the tea has been drunk. The time has passed quickly! This room has been my home for many many weeks lately.
Catherine:
Sat with my child in our study area at home, the sun is setting and we have a lamp on, it feels cosy. I can hear my other child in the lounge watching some tv. The people I'm with make it feel like home.
Michael:
Grounded in a secure place. Soil, animals, family, friends. Some resistance, but that is to be exact and will pass as all else.
Sonam:
I’m in my room right now, in a place called Gamru, a 20-minute walk from McLeod Ganj in Dharamshala, India. It’s 3:06 in the morning, and I can hear dogs barking in the distance. I’m fortunate to live in a neighbourhood that attracts fewer dogs compared to the main market, where barking can be heard every now and then.
I’ve moved around a lot within these neighbourhoods, mainly because I was couch-hopping at friends’ places until I finally got my own place a few years ago. This is it — this place feels like it belongs to me. It gives me a sense of belonging, safety, and a space I can finally call home.
I went through a lot before this and wasn’t sure where life was leading me. It has probably been one of the greatest experiences ever — feeling lost yet having the drive to achieve something, to be known for something positive and meaningful, and to create work that could help others. But what is a person without a sense of security, without a place that makes them feel they come from somewhere?
This current place is modest and simple, yet it reminds me that I never gave up on anything, especially the passion I was pursuing. It is a constant reminder that I can achieve anything I want as long as I keep going.
Kanika:
I am in Bir, a little village-turning-into-town in the hills in India. We are in a transitional season between winter and spring- days are starting to get a little sunny. Shades of brown in the landscape are giving way to greens. The other day I saw a bunch of dandelions during my morning walk. Spiders have also started to emerge from hibernation.
How does the weather (or the atmosphere) around you affect your mood or thoughts?
Janie:
It’s warm and quiet and relaxing. I’m high up and can see a very distant horizon, which I find relaxing
Tom:
I think, humbly, it is just my opinion and not a truth... so, i think, we are affect by what goes on above our heads more than modern society has lets us believe. People obviously feel happy when the sun comes out after a days of grey. We are just learning how cosmic rays have a huge impact on cloud formation. We understand waves, so how can the placement of planets not have some sort of effect on our behavior... for example, noses start to run, people feel sleepy, or time for parties when the sun goes down. Thats a very simple cycle that effects behaviour MASSIVELY, that system is deeper, broader, more complicated that we know. Technology, drama, social media is a tool to hide the magic that exists. I think!
Áine:
In the kitchen. It's evening, again. A faint after-dinner smell of pans, starch and garlic has settled on the surface of things. Just waiting for the kettle to boil. Watching a car go by every now and then outside; a half-second flash, a rushed, gravely whisper (yet the sound takes time to vanish fully into the distance..) Inside, the dishwasher is slushing. The fridge is humming. The lights are off, but still buzzing. The TV is murmuring in the next room. The TV glows, that room is a whole other world, a blue-white shell filled with underwater light.
But back to the kitchen! I appreciate the fridge’s humming, its omming. I'm mostly in the dark (lights switched off) but it’s these particular sounds that are reminding me I’m here, reassuring me even. There's been a different kind of dull drone inside me, but the monotonous music of this room soothes me tonight. Now I am breathing.
Catherine:
It's sunny today, it feels like the first day of spring. The blue sky makes me feel lighter and gives a sense of excitement at the good weather to come. The hedges seem much more alive and the birds are singing more.
Michael:
The season affects me somewhat, but being in my current situation, I am developing a hardiness.
Sonam:
Winter has been pretty shy this year. It arrived late and affected many people, especially where I am right now, a place where hundreds of households rely on drinking water supplied almost entirely by the melting snow of the great Dhauladhar range, which stands tall and majestic behind our town.
We were fortunate to witness fresh snowfall and mountains blanketed in thick snow in mid-January. Sadly, I was travelling at the time and missed greeting my favourite season, and definitely missed making a snow angel.
It’s been almost three weeks since I returned to my small hill town, and the weather has been unusually warm ever since, quite strange for February here. With this heat, much of the snow that blessed us in January has melted away. Yet, over the last two days, it has turned cold and rainy again,another unexpected twist.
Right now, it’s cold, and I’m wrapped in two thick cotton blankets.
I love winter. Food feels easier to digest, and the clothes I wear finally feel purposeful, doing their one honest job: keeping me warm. Winter is the only time I truly believe clothes fulfil their duty. Every intentional layer feels like a quiet act of care.
At this moment, I am well-fed, warm, and deeply appreciative.
Kanika:
This winter for me was an intense period of pause, confronting discomfort, letting go, and solitude. So to slow shift to spring feels refreshing in some ways. The sun feels very comforting- not too strong, not too dull. I need lesser layers of clothing and lesser cups of herbal tea to get through the day. The fog in my head is starting to clear, with fresh ideas knocking in at times.
At the same time, I also feel the need to hold onto the slowness I'd embraced during the winters. I am excited about new projects, but don't have the energy to start acting on them. I long to catch up with friends, but connection feels quite vulnerable. I have been trying to practice healthier daily routines and structures, and yet some old patterns continue to linger. This brings mixed feelings- anticipation of fresh starts, discomfort with uncertainty, and frustration with the 'I want to, but I'm not quite there...' energy.
How are you moving through or connecting with your surroundings these days?
Janie:
I’ve been travelling and seeing the beauty of New Zealand sliding past, and rounding each bend I’m awed every time even though I’ve done these journeys before.
Tom:
Went for a bike ride with Bugbug today, went to the skate park, havent done that for YEARS! i smoked my last cigarette on Monday last week, stopped the devils weed, or, greatly reduced :p vaped it and piped it a few times, but i feel that has had a big impact on me in the world. hard to put to words, it feels like spring, feel like im waking up, and very clear in the head!
Áine:
Waiting at the bus stop at the top of O'Connell Street. It’s nearly 9pm. I smell wet shoe soles and wet rock. The granite is glittered with rain. Various vehicles are sliding by, flashing their light onto the road and onto each falling and bouncing raindrop. The whole scene around me sparkles as if sequined. I am deep-set inside a black, hooded, puffed-up, zipped-up, full-length coat.. My chin is tucked into my scarf tucked into my coat. Feeling pretty warm in here, yet a little tight, and a little tense to keep in this warmth! A little tense also perhaps just because I’m in the city. Not nervous, just tense —instinctive alertness perhaps! Otherwise, from within my puffy black shell my eyes peer out and quite enjoy watching strangers passing by. At this hour on a weekday things are not that busy in town anymore, but the characters that still stick around are… interesting! Looking around, I realise pretty much everyone is wearing a black coat! I'm watch it all and feel like a little alien - a curious one, though mostly a confused, lonely one.
This is all typed up on my phone, getting trickier to type as rain splodges the screen and my fingers slip and get colder.
Catherine:
Currently trying to restore my rooms back to feeling more homely after a busy year working on other projects and neglecting the space which we call home. I suppose you could say I haven't been noticing the space I've occupied as I was busy occupying my mind.
Michael:
I'm connecting with this place very deeply. All that's here from plants, animals, and other humans. I'm finding small wins and celebrating them.
Sonam:
Regarding connection, one meaningful moment has been reconnecting with my dad. I finally gathered some of my finest courage and strength and spoke with him after nearly two years of silence, a time when returning to our old friendship felt difficult and distant.
Things happened, and my dad chose to keep me in the dark for a long while. But when we finally spoke, we realised that many of the things we said but didn’t mean — and the things we meant but never said — were what complicated our relationship the most.
I once heard a friend say, “Every parent is a parent for the first time,” and that thought truly hit me. It reminded me that my parents’ generation endured one of the hardest childhoods and harshest lives, especially coming from Tibet and still adapting to new environments and cultures. I have never blamed my parents on any level; if anything, I carry a quiet understanding of their struggles.
Rebuilding this connection with my dad brings me genuine happiness. It feels less like fixing something broken and more like rediscovering a language we both once spoke but had forgotten how to use.
At the same time, moving around and travelling for work continues to open my eyes, offering new experiences, stories, and perspectives that gently reshape how I see relationships, family, and myself.
Kanika:
Today I met a plum tree, who seemed to mirror my inner world. It was mostly bare, with a handful of tiny green leaves starting to grow on the lower branches. It also had three red leaves from the last season, almost waiting to be shed. Little buds had also emerged here and there, and just a couple of them had bloomed into lovely white plum blossom flowers.
Seeing signs of different seasons co-existing in one tree was reassuring. Maybe I am not the only one experiencing this 'in-between' phase of life. I remembered how our immune systems become more vulnerable during seasons of transition, and therefore need more care. Perhaps my heart also needs more compassion and gentleness as it holds the tension between 'what has been' and 'what could be'.
Anything else?
Janie:
I’m glad to be home and rested after a few days travelling
Tom:
Just feel like i have made a step to be the person i know i am, and not the person other people assume i am. Like i mentioned before, the world is just flying past, we are all on it, you have no option but to be on the ride, hope you dont fall off it, either by accident or incompetence or lack of care. Being comforted by my family and friends.
Áine:
:)
Catherine:
Nope
Michael:
Trying to not get too distracted by the work and staying connected to family.
Sonam:
Maybe I am doing this assignment completely opposite to what I was actually supposed to do. But I am grateful for the opportunity to open up, reflect on my life, and remain thankful while keeping myself humble. As fragile as our lives can be, it is also crucial to be appreciative and proud of where we are right now, for enduring and fighting battles that no one seems to understand, and for holding onto the quiet certainty that we will rise from struggles that often go unnoticed.
Kanika:
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Share something you’re noticing right now, no matter how ordinary it seems. You can also upload a photo that connects to your reflection - something you took recently, or any image that captures a moment, a feeling, a place, or anything that drew your attention.
Janie:
Tom:
Áine:
Catherine:
Michael:
Sonam:
Kanika:
Thank you to all that engaged and to all that thought about it.
Together, we create something none of us could alone.
If you would like to know when the next theme has launched or maybe even participate, sign up here.
Thank you so much, to each of you, for sharing these moments in time, these reflections, in such an honest, contemplative and eloquent way. You transported me. I feel nourished, humbled and connected. 🙏🌿