Nadine J Walters – My Life

Question for me today: What is moving you forward?

Answer:
Sheer determination to get on with my life. There are so many areas where I am either already moving or know I need to. But for today, let’s just focus on this blog.

I’m writing this post knowing that, after today, only seven remain before this project is complete. Does that make me happy or sad? Honestly, neither. What I feel is somewhere in the middle—perhaps a mix of relief and apprehension. I’ve been at this for over six months now. That’s a long time to stick with something.

What’s moving me forward today—not just with this blog, but in life—is simply life itself. Life is worth living. While some people are driven by a need for constant activity or excitement, I’ve found that what propels me is something quieter: the search for small, meaningful spaces of calm and contentment. Sometimes moving forward isn’t flashy—it can feel boring, or even like a step backward.

I’ve come to a place where I no longer feel the need to fill every moment of my day with busyness. There are no medals for being the most exhausted person in the room. And yet, that kind of constant hustle is so often celebrated. I’m not interested in earning those kinds of rewards.

So what is moving me forward? I think it’s the ongoing search for who I am and where I belong. That search is what inspired this blog, and it’s what fuels my artwork. I love learning and trying new things—but on my terms. My pace is slow, intentional, and reflective. I move slowly. I absorb gently. I process thoughtfully.

That’s how I’ve approached this writing project. After landing on a question, I let myself wander for a bit. I follow my thoughts, give them space, let them breathe. Only after that am I ready to absorb what I’m discovering and turn it into words. It’s taken me 92 posts to really understand this process—and that understanding, in itself, feels like a step forward.

So today, what moves me forward isn’t urgency or ambition. It’s presence. It’s listening to my own rhythm. And it’s the quiet joy of discovering who I am—one word, one brushstroke, one gentle step at a time.