Rose coloured glasses

This doodle — like many others — popped out of me unexpectedly, as if my subconscious sent a memo:
“Hey, dear… it’s time to do something about that realism. (You know, the one that smells like pessimism?) Here, have some pink glasses—plus a chaotic parade of odd little creatures, squiggles, gnomes, curls, and nonsense. None of it realistic, but all of it perfectly joyful.”

And yep, it hit home.

I tend to notice what’s missing, what’s out of alignment, or what could go wrong. I call it “being realistic,” but really, it’s just ancestral survival thinking doing its thing behind the scenes.
I spiral into deep thoughts about how nothing really makes sense—only to realize that everything is a paradox.

At the same time, not thinking, not striving — that’s a skill I’m trying to re-learn.
Ehhh... easier said than done.

So now I keep this drawing on my wall, as a reminder to deliberately put on my imaginary rose-coloured glasses.
Like a brain gym session.

Whenever I catch myself spiralling, I flip the script:
– I count what I do have and feel grateful for it, instead of obsessing over what’s missing.
– I imagine wild, beautiful outcomes instead of worst-case scenarios.
– I let myself be silly and lazy, instead of endlessly productive and busy.
– I try on the mask of a stand-up comedian or let my immature inner child take the lead.

And yep, I remind my inner critic to go and… “love” itself.

These pink glasses don’t erase reality — they soften it.
They turn a grumpy day into a doodle full of weird gnomes and delightful nonsense.

And the best thing about rose-coloured glasses?
They go with every outfit.