Inspiration Diaries with Writer Lauren Powell

Writer and freelancer Lauren Powell reached out to me about participating in the Inspiration Diaries, and it truly made my morning when I read her message that “the magic of the Substack algorithm sent me to your publication today.” As much as the internet can be a tiring place, it’s moments like these that I’m so grateful for it, in awe of the “magic” that the algorithm can provide at times.

Lauren shares essays and insights on navigating modern life that are filled with creative inspiration, which is why she’s obviously a perfect fit for this series. I’m so excited to share a week in her life with you all, because it certainly inspired me.

xx Brianna

I stumbled upon the Inspiration Diaries not long after it was first launched and instantly felt taken by the concept. Charting a week through the moments that offered a glimmer; a nudge to carry on. With more living; more creating; more embracing the mundane.

As I write, life is in its busy season. There are work demands to navigate, creative projects to tend to, friends and family to support, keep in touch with, celebrate with, plus my partner and I have just bought our first home. A major milestone I doubted might ever happen.

I spend this week packing up bags and boxes at our rented flat, between work and other commitments, while trying to ensure my day is about more than logistical chaos. In doing so, and documenting it here, I hope it offers inspiration for others in their own busy season, even if that schedule looks different to mine, to still find time for moments that light us up and carry us forward.

On Sunday morning my partner and I wake early to head to a local trade store to get paint mixed for the skirting boards and door frames at our new home. The whole DIY landscape has become very real very quickly in recent weeks, and the nuances around colour specificity have taken up more brain space than I knew they could.

I have spent (too much?) time poring over colour charts from various paint brands, admiring the names as much as the shades. I wonder who comes up with those. Is there a copywriter at these paint manufacturers and if so can I be one?

I am reminded of a creative writing breakfast gathering I attended earlier this year, hosted by poet Laurie Bolger at the Poetry Pharmacy in London, where one of the activities we indulged in, over coffee and pastries on a Thursday morning, was to pass around a paint colour chart, tear out a colour we felt drawn to, and use it as a writing prompt. For a poem, or a story, or a haiku, or anything at all. Freewriting at its freest.

I think about how I will save all the charts we have collected as a creative prompting store of my own in the months to come.

We take the paint to our new apartment in North London, and pick up coffees from the cafe across the road. It’s an old school joint, unbothered by the kind of trends we have become used to at the artisanal coffee shops close to the home we’re leaving, and the flat white doesn’t much differ from the cappuccino. But the couple behind the counter welcome us warmly to the neighbourhood and we know we will return, for whatever kind of milk+caffeine combination will be on offer.

Later I am back at the apartment we are leaving to do more packing, and attempt to tune out the mix of emotions and boredom by tuning into Substack posts using the read-aloud function. I like to save the longer form pieces in particular for these moments, so that I can really take the time to absorb them.

That evening I eat dinner alone while my partner visits his parents, grateful for the leftover Pad Thai a friend and I had shared the evening before, as we sat on the sofa and toasted with rosé prosecco to all the life updates we were finally getting to share with each other on a magical Saturday night where we’d both at last minute managed to be free.

Before bed I treat myself to an everything shower, with the spa-like scents of Rituals products filling the bathroom, and map out my to-do list for each day in the week ahead, hoping it will help me steer with more confidence and less overwhelm.

I set my alarm for 6 am, as I plan to do for the rest of the week, attempting to maximise my available time each day. I tell myself I will be in bed by 10pm at the latest each night, but with every passing evening that becomes less and less the reality.

It’s important to start with good intentions though, right?

I get through some new-home admin - address updates and utilities set up etc. - before working on some final edits for a book review to be published for Lazy Women. Then I’m out the door for an 8am dynamic vinyasa yoga class at a studio on my street. I vow to make the most of this luxury through the week after having barely made it to class recently.

The session feels invigorating, and by the time I get back I feel ready to take on the work week, settling down to catch up on day job emails with a large black coffee and a bowl of tropical granola.The combo of coconut flakes and dried pineapple chunks offer that little hint of warmer weather even while we still navigate spring showers in the UK.

The day is busy, but fine, and as I shut down for the day I get back to packing, before returning to the screen later on to cover off some freelance client work. Generally my brain is more lively in the morning, but I often get a second wind for creative work around 8:30-10:30pm, so I like to make the most of that when I can.

I get into bed and pick up L.A. Weather which has been a perfect read for this period of limited brain capacity and tired eyes. It feels escapist enough from my own day-to-day that I can really get engaged, and the format of short chapters based on daily updates mean I don’t need to feel guilty about putting it back down after only a few minutes of reading.

I’m about half way through and enjoying the mix of family drama against observations on wider societal issues. And metaphorically dreaming about LA. is surely never a bad thing.

On Tuesday I head to another 8 am vinyasa class, after a brief journaling entry as I try to keep up with some form of morning pages after doing The Artist’s Way last year, and think about how much I will really miss the yoga studio. Although I have only been a member for about eight months (having delayed signing up for far too long over concern as to whether I could justify the cost) it has become an important third space for me. Entering a studio has let me absorb the practice more than when I practice at home alone. There is certainly a place for both, and I am a longtime fan of Yoga with Adrienne, but the cocoon of the phone-free sage green studio with its colour-matched bolsters and mats just gives the rejuvenation of my sun salutations that extra edge.

At lunchtime, I break for a walk to run some errands, and the weather is surprisingly warm. I tune to a podcast about the importance of reading in shaping our modern lives, and wish I have time to listen to it all before I need to head back and prepare for my next meeting.

That evening, as I do ever more packing, I acknowledge a selection of clothes that I no longer wear because they no longer feel like me, even though I still feel a palpable fondness for them. I put them to one side for donations or to offer to those who might like to give them a second home, remembering how much I used to love hand-me-downs in my teens and twenties from older relatives or family friends.

I recently came across Indyx, thanks to Anna Newton, and have a loose plan to try and document all my clothes via the app when I unpack them again at the new place, in the hope of being able to enjoy more of my wardrobe than I currently do. It feels like a pretty big undertaking, but one that I hope could be a fun project for future outfit inspiration.

Wednesday morning is spent finishing off a draft for a reading retreat invitation by way of a Substack post, sharing more details about a November gathering in my home country of Wales, where I’ll be co-hosting with Tanya Lynch. I’m excited to share the full line up of guest authors we have joining us for Q&As.

It flows out easily though I take care with my words, really thinking about how to convey the sense of an experience that some will know well and others may be dreaming of. I want readers, and guests, to feel inspired by the idea of what I’m creating, whether that’s to join us for this weekend in November, or to find something that fills their cup in another way.

I love writing in the morning, but always struggle to switch from that headspace and into work mode, because I want to stay absorbed in my own creativity.

But being in flow in either realm is even more of a struggle on days where I have a chronic health issue flare up, as happens today, and I spend several hours dealing with pain that I attempt to ease through various refills of my trusty hot water bottle and lots of peppermint tea.

I’m grateful for the flexibility to work from home on such days, and indeed have opted to do so all week to use the commuting time for tackling my todo list - though I can never complain about the meander through Covent Garden from the tube to the office on the River Thames.

My partner and I eat dinner together in the evening and watch half an hour of a Netflix documentary before attending to life admin on the sofa.

Thursday morning I head to what will be my last class at the local yoga studio, and when I tell the teacher this she wraps her arms around me and wishes me well for the move, thanking me for my presence at practice. I feel a little emotional and ask if she teaches elsewhere so that maybe we can reconnect at a more convenient location. She mentions a chain of studios that she describes as being “very east London”, with DJ sets accompanying yoga teachings. She wonders if it might be my vibe - and for a moment so do I - but ultimately I think we both know it won’t be. And that’s okay.

My work day is long, and includes a four hour virtual training. During this session I keep close by a giant bar of Cadbury’s Mini Eggs chocolate left from Easter to see me through. The facilitators encourage us to use AI as an aide for some of the tasks, something I am still on the fence about in terms of how much it does, or does not, actually help with ideation. We discuss designing products for real-world customer problems and not simply because they feel like good ideas or sound like cool concepts.

I think about how this notion relates - or not - to creative work. How we perhaps often share only what we think will be enjoyed or appreciated, and how there is likely always merit in creating something, be it with words or with paint or with musical notes, because of how it feels for us to do so, and not only for what it does for anyone else.

After a quick bite to eat - likely the third portion of lasagne that week thanks to a batch-cooked delivery from my partner’s mother - while reading a few Substacks to leave behind thoughts of emails and meetings, I’m back at the packing before collapsing into bed.

I wake up grateful not to have to log into work emails, as it’s a non-working day for me. Two years ago I negotiated condensed working hours with nine-day fortnights, meaning every second Friday I can use a full day to focus on my own creative work, whether that’s writing for my Substack, planning a retreat, doing some client work or taking myself on an artist date.

At least, that’s usually the plan.

Today however my partner and I are getting carpets fitted at the new flat, so we head there, taking some boxes ready for transporting too.

On the way I get us some takeaway cappuccinos and pastries from our favourite local bakery - a pistachio and rhubarb danish for him and a pain au suisse for me. They are buttery and delicious and while his is gone in a few bits I make mine last all morning. An elongated sugar rush as I start to unpack plates and glasses and figure out where to store them in the new kitchen cupboards. As I do so I listen to an episode of The Shift with Sam Baker - never does an episode fail to inspire, with the fantastic line up of women she always has to join her.

The carpet fitters arrive as my partner has a work call, so I close the door on the room filled with boxes to get things sorted in the bedrooms, and while they work tuck myself into a storage cupboard using an empty shelf as a makeshift standing desk while I sort through some moving related admin, and manage to offer some small edits on another writer’s upcoming article for Lazy Women.

As the carpet fitters wrap up, I inspect the cut scraps, and keep a large piece back for future use. Perhaps it’ll be a runner, or some smaller door mats.

Later, I’m back at our rented home for more packing, and continue to find more forgotten items, including a weighted hulaloop that has lived behind the back of the sofa for longer than is acceptable. The victim of forgotten good intentions, and indeed forgotten fun. I consider donating it but instead break it down into smaller pieces and pack it away for optimistic use in weeks to come.

Before bed I finish packing a small bag for a few days away, as my partner and I have a pre-planned trip to visit friends in the North of England, and take ourselves to the Lake District, before we knew our moving dates and therefore how chaotic this period would be.

Such is life. I try to think of it as the break we didn’t know we needed, and vow to switch off from to-do lists as much as possible.

I squeeze in a hair wash, even though blasting the hairdryer before bed is one of my least favourite things, but manage to fall asleep feeling like a semi-new version of myself.

The magic of shampoo and conditioner never ceases to amaze.

On Saturday we head out early and grab two more takeaway coffees (a treat we clearly struggle to resist!), making the most of collecting the last few stamps on our loyalty cards in the hope we might get a free coffee before leaving the area, and luxuriate in the plushness of the hire car my partner has rented for the trip.

En route we stop off to take a second look at a sofa we’d found at a furniture shop a few weeks before and had been thinking about ever since. There was still a question as to whether it was the right one for us - was the sofa bed element sturdy enough? Was the corner seat wide enough? - but after further deliberation in store we agreed to move ahead and accept that it does a good enough job and we don’t want to keep looking forever.

After deliberating over several sample fabrics for what I’m sure the sales assistant felt was an inordinate amount of time, we finally placed the order - only to spot a sofa with a different fabric downstairs that we immediately both loved and asked to change our order too before we’d even left the store.

Let’s hope we still feel the same when it arrives in a few months time!

Back in the car, we nibble on snacks between singing to the radio (okay, I sing to the radio, and am also in charge of snacks) and attempt to think ahead for the trip we’ve done little to no planning for.

Mid-afternoon we arrive at the home of friends we’re visiting, and meet their five-month-old baby who I spend much of the next few hours cuddling while unfurling chunks of my hair from his tiny but firm fingers. We go for dinner at a local restaurant, order food to share, and toast glasses of red wine to new homes, new babies, birthdays, anniversaries, and other such happenings since we were last together.

A welcome way to spend a Saturday night after a busy week, and I realise the first meal I have sat and enjoyed at a leisurely pace since the previous weekend.

I look forward to making the most of a change of scene in the days to come, and the promise of a hotel breakfast without any packing to keep on top of or work emails to answer.

There will be journaling and daydreaming and rolling hills surrounding great lakes to gaze at, and though I know to anticipate the inevitable planning chatter, right now I look forward to the peace.

***

Connect with Lauren here!

Substack: @laurenkatepowell

Instagram: @the_navigation_lp

Thank you for reading The Mood Board! It means so much to me that you are here, and I hope you found bits of inspiration here today. Say hi on Instagram here, shop my faves here, and read my other writing here. And if you want to buy me a coffee, you can do that here. :)

The Mood Board #043

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May 16

I was explaining The Mood Board to someone last week, and it occurred to me that it’s been a minute since I’ve shared the philosophy of The Mood Board with you all. It’s evolved over the years and there are so many new faces here as well, so I thought what better time than to share with you all the thought process behind this space.

Monthly Prompts

Upcoming Writing Workshop: Queerness & Creativity

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May 18

Surprise! I’m hosting a writing workshop for Pride Month! One of my goals for the year has been to read and learn about other writers and creatives — their practices, their worldviews, their lives. And for Pride Month, I want to learn about queer writers and how their queer worldviews inspire their writing. Maybe you do too!