Behind the Blog: The Power of Passionate People

“Mi-mi mi-mi mi-mi mi-mi-miiiiii!”

A group of travel bloggers stand in a small library, facing a keyboard. On the Caribbean island of Antigua, in a stunning resort studded with pineapples and palm trees, they are practicing their vocal warm ups.

“Ma-ma ma-ma ma-ma ma-ma-maaaaa!”

Behind the keyboard stands Mike King, a professional vocal coach and our choir master for the week. His mouth opens and shuts like a piece of elastic, his hands skipping along the plastic keys as the music flows.

“May-may may-may may-may may-may-mayyyyy!” 

But why on earth are we singing in the Caribbean? Why am I suddenly part of a choir? Is a passion for singing a pre-requisite for being a blogger now?!

Let’s start at the beginning. 

In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve barely written anything this past year. Dealing with my dad’s inevitable death – and then with the aftermath of all-encompassing grief – stopped every one of my steps in its tracks.

October to March was a dark, dark time. Yet somehow, as the sun began to appear more often and as the daffodils began to bloom in the park close to my house, I felt the stirrings of inspiration. Instead of watching Netflix and crying with the curtains closed, too exhausted to do anything else, I remembered what it was like to create.

I began to remember my passions again.

The major problem standing in my way was how rusty I felt. If your creative mind is like a mechanism of nuts, bolts, cogs and screws, it felt as if too many of my internal components hadn’t stretched themselves for months. That might not have been too problematic in itself — except I’d also spent those dark months scrolling passively and depressively through all my social feeds, lamenting that my co-creators were achieving fantastical things and moving their careers forward while I felt fundamentally STUCK.

Things first began to properly change when I attended a retreat in Spain – an experience I still can’t find the words to explain online just yet, except that it was one of the most surreal, magical, eye-opening, life-affirming, heart-lifting weeks of my life. I’d expected to face up to my compounded grief and loss in Spain, but I hadn’t been prepared for the physical side of the work we did. Aside from our daily yoga sessions each morning, we spent significant time lost in ‘intuitive movement’ – something which, if you’d asked me about beforehand, I’d have immediately shut down.

“Nope, not for me, definitely not!” I’d have said. ” I hate dancing. Always have.”

In actual fact? I bloody loved it.

For most of my life, I’ve unequivocally stated that I can’t dance. I get embarrassed on dance floors, I think I look stupid, and I usually try and avoid dancing as a general rule (except when I’ve drunk enough to not feel self conscious). Honestly? I can’t even remember what precipitated this opinion

But somehow, in Spain amongst this beautiful group of women, my body intuitively knew what to do. I managed to quieten my mind to the extent that it was patiently waiting in the background while my limbs skewed themselves into contortions I didn’t know I wanted to create.

It felt incredible. I felt truly changed by it: like I was embracing and setting free some true, deep part of myself which had been hidden for so long.

Eyes closed, heart open, soul ready 💫 For a long time, I’ve felt as if something was missing in my life. I attributed this to grief: I assumed my mum’s death had shaped me irrevocably, marked me out as different and separate from others. I didn’t know if this feeling would ever change. I assumed it wouldn’t. Yet during this past week, spent on retreat at @quarterlifehealthproject, I honestly feel that my life has changed. For the first time, I both witnessed and was intrinsically part of the sheer power which comes from a group of fiercely vulnerable women sharing their stories and emotions with complete openness and honesty. In yoga, meditation and intuitive movement we rose together, moved together, and turned inward together. We danced wildly in thunderstorms, connected in silence, and held space for each other in sharing circles and fire rituals. In just six short days, we became connected. We became sisters, in the truest, oldest sense of the word – and that’s exactly what I didn’t know I was looking for. Women, we are wise, strong, and so very powerful. Please never forget how much magic you hold inside yourselves 🙏✨

A post shared by Flora The Explorer (@florabaker) on Apr 24, 2018 at 12:59pm PDT

I left the Spanish coast with a newly formed group of soul sisters and a fierce pride in myself – and only a few days later, I checked into a flight bound for the Caribbean along with forty social media ‘influencers’ (the latest buzzword to describe what we do. I dispute this monicker wildly, and prefer the more humble ‘content creator’, but there we go).

Despite being good friends with many members of this Antigua crew, I was still nervous about being in such a big group. I’d just spent a week engaged in intense introspection, and suddenly I was with forty outgoing personalities, all with so much focus on the ‘outward’. I didn’t feel prepared for constant cameras, videos and social media updates – and to be honest, even being expected to be ‘on’ all the time felt exhausting.

I could never have guessed how much this outward behaviour would lift me up, and that it was exactly what I needed.

And it all started with the singing.

Joining a Caribbean choir

Our week in Antigua had been arranged by Traverse Events and the Antigua & Barbuda Tourism Authority for two reasons: firstly, to attend a small influencer conference, and secondly, to experience all the exciting adventures the island has to offer. Part of that excitement was the opportunity to join a singing workshop led by Mike King, who already runs singing retreats in Barbados and will soon do the same in Antigua.

While I don’t have the same mental block about singing as I do with dancing, I still haven’t sung regularly since I was at school. I used to love being in choirs, but like so many childhood passions it eventually faded out of my life completely, to the extent that when signing up for the Caribbean choir I felt the first stirrings of possible embarrassment. What if all my singing skills had totally vanished and I sounded awful?

Mike King was the perfect antidote. He’s unashamedly passionate about singing. Passionate about music. Passionate about bringing groups of people together – even those who protest that they’re terrible at singing and will just drag the whole group down – to sing.

And from our first practice together, it was obvious that collective passion had the power to completely override any of our nervousness.

Mike deftly explained how our week of choir rehearsals would play out: three morning practice sessions of two hours each, culminating in a little performance for our friends and other hotel guests at the end of the week. Before we had time to panic about singing in front of other people (!), song sheets were thrust into our hands and the stretching of our vocal cords began.

In next to no time we’d been divided into tenors, altos and sopranos, all belting out harmonies for Al Green’s ‘Let’s Stay Together’ – and we sounded pretty good.

But the more magical occurrence was how we all felt. Sheer joy and jubilation erupted in claps and cheers whenever a particularly gorgeous note rang out; utter pride at the end of a completed song; huge grins and hugging by the end of the session, as we all walked out of the room with grins we couldn’t shake.

“The energy in there was incredible!” my friend Shu said to me – and she was totally right. It was an intoxicating feeling to realise we’d created something unexpectedly beautiful out of nothing by working together.

Learning some comparative home truths

Later that day at the first Traverse conference sessions, I listened to Gemma Holmes talk about ‘comparanoia’ – something all too relevant in today’s online-obsessed world. As a fully-trained cognitive hypnotherapist, Gemma urged us to switch our usual narrative: instead of playing comparisons with the people you see as competitors, use their success as inspiration to instigate change and action in your own plans.

For me, this constant comparing with my peers rang disturbingly true – because deep down I’ve always known what’s at the root of it.

If I’m jealous that another blogger has written a book, it’s because I know that’s the ultimate dream for me – which means I have to actually DO SOMETHING about it. When I look at other social media influencers achieving great things it reminds me I’m not yet reaching out to the people and companies I’d love to work with because I’m afraid they might say no – but I have to take those leaps regardless, because that’s the best chance of actually achieving them.

A new way of thinking: our competitors are actually co-creators in our success, because they inspire us to be better.

Gemma’s session reminded me of a workshop I’d attended recently in London with the blogger Anna Hart, all about personal branding for bloggers. Anna had talked passionately about knowing your audience: who they are, why they keep coming back to your content, and what it is you’re offering them. More crucially for me, she stressed the importance of knowing which people you want to speak to – something which can really only be achieved by honing your unique selling point.

All my thoughts were swirling at this. Suddenly I was imagining my site, and by extension my brand, with different eyes. I saw it as a reader who might not know what they’re getting when they click on ‘Flora The Explorer’ – and I realised some more specific changes need to be on my blogging horizon.

I’ve spent so long explaining, “I write travel narratives!” but in all honesty that’s much too vague for me. What I’m really passionate about is the fascinating way my inner journeying affects my outer ones, and how mental health and grief change the way I see the world at large. The crux where travel and trauma meet is something I have a unique perspective on, and it’s up to me to take that idea further.

Cogs are turning slowly (despite the rust) – but until I work out the kinks, it’s back to Antigua.

What do influencers do in their natural habitat? They create.

When you send forty bloggers, photographers, YouTubers and Instagrammers to spend a week in Antigua, chances are they’re going to do exactly what you’d expect: they’ll utilise every moment to create content, in as many ways as possible.

I haven’t indulged that side of myself for a while, and it was so freeing to snap constant photos and scribble down notes about everything that interested me – but I also kept tabs on the way my friends and fellow content creators explored the island.

Some were vlogging to their cameras, others disappeared for little photoshoots or sat hard at work editing in the spare moments we had. Everyone had a different idea about how to interpret our collective experiences, and it was inspiring to watch.

The more I watched the other creators around me, the more I remembered just how damn GOOD it felt to be truly passionate about something. Moreover, to feel galvanised and excited about moving forward with all those beautiful, colourful, too-big-to-mention ideas which swirl around inside your head.

Realising the power in other people’s passion

One afternoon, I sat on the beach with a few bloggers who’ve been publishing content online even longer than my seven years of it. Someone suggested that ultimately we’re all each other’s competition – and I found myself switching the narrative.

“Call me naive,” I said, “But I still feel that being a blogger is about being part of a community first. I don’t think I would ever have reached the industry level I’m at now if I hadn’t made so many lasting connections with people who do the same!”

Instead of focusing on how many competitors there are in the blogging world, all vying for similar partnerships with similar organisations, I chose to see how inspiring all those creators are, and how lucky I am to work amongst people who are equally passionate about the same things I am.

And that’s when it hit me. As bloggers, as content creators, as influencers — whatever you want to call us – we’re the type of people to actively embrace the things that others won’t. We’re constantly in situations where unexpected activities are offered to us, and we’ve managed to rewire our minds to always think, “Hmm… that could feasibly be good content!”. So we go for it.

I remember being so scared of going caving in a Bolivian national park – but I did it, because I knew I could write about facing that fear. I remember almost backing out of white water rafting in Australia, but the thought of sacrificing an article about the topic forced me to say yes. (Ok, I haven’t actually written that article yet, but I WILL!)

It’s like the best kind of vicious cycle: we’re primed to challenge our comfort zones in order to perpetuate our passions.

A Caribbean singing performance at sunset

One evening, we gathered at the Outhouse at the very top of our resort. Ahead of us was the wide blue sea, flanked by bright pink blossoms. A keyboard, like usual; big speakers and three microphones. A palpable energy filled the little wooden structure as we glanced nervously at each other, wide grins hiding our vulnerable internal thought processes.

What if we didn’t sing as well as usual? What if nobody came to see us perform? What if, what if, what if?

But at sunset in the Caribbean, there were chills. Reverb on the mic which made everyone’s eyes open wider. Under piercing blue lights we sang our little blogger hearts out, and there was so much happiness and pride.

For the rest of the night, we sipped rum punch and danced under the stars. A group, brought together by our shared passions for creating and, this week at least, for singing. For art we’ve worked long and hard to be good at — and for the thrill of an unknown challenge.

What makes you unique?

For a long time I’ve felt both exhausted and confused at not feeling part of the blogging industry in the way I once was. At some point I got weighted down by negativity: I assumed my style of creativity wasn’t going to make me money, and I lost my passion in the face of being overwhelmed.

Luckily we’re all unique in the way we create. That’s what’s so utterly fantastic about it. If you’re getting too stuck in the professionalism of something you’re passionate about, try remembering why you started in the first place. Remember your initial passion and go with that as your primary focus.

For me? I forgot that writing feels like home – and sharing it with other people makes me feel like I’m flying. I adore the feeling when words pour out of my fingers – and so to hell with all the rest of it. I want to create. I live to create! And neither grief nor falling statistics will stop that.

Spring cleansing 💫💮💛 There’s something uplifting about this time of year. Perhaps it’s the daffodils blooming everywhere, one of my dad’s favourite flowers; perhaps it’s the air, which suddenly feels fresh and light; perhaps it’s the extra hour of light each day. Or perhaps I’ve finally reached my limit of indoor bedrest, curtains drawn, sobbing silently into my duvet. Grieving for five months straight has taken so much out of me, but it’s also emptied a space I get to re-fill. Last week I stood amongst the spring blossoms in Peckham Rye with @alizejireh, hoping my years of internal awkwardness didn’t show as she snapped photo after photo of me (this outing a thirtieth birthday present to myself). We talked about how beautifully vulnerable a photoshoot can be, and as I stared out over this green space I’ve known my whole life I felt something inside me shifting, something quiet yet monumental. Spring is the time for a new start. A stronger, more determined, live-your-life-with-passion start. I feel like spring is wiping me clean and making me happy again.💛

A post shared by Flora The Explorer (@florabaker) on Apr 4, 2018 at 10:58am PDT

So surround yourself with people full of passion. People who willingly push the boundaries of their industry and the boundaries they’ve imposed upon themselves. Look at your competitors and decide where the last line is. Are they “taking opportunities” from you? Or are they inspiring you to push forward further?

Passion is what drives all of us. Music. Art. Singing. Photography. Writing. All of it is pure, unbridled creativity. It’s the purest way to make a connection – and I can’t believe how easily we sometimes forget about that aspect.

Thank you so much to this gorgeous group of travel ‘influencers’ for putting the passion back into my creativity. Ever in love with puns, we called our choir ‘No Direction’ — but as a group of content creators, I think we’re anything but.

I think the passion that drives us is taking us in exactly the right direction.

What are you truly passionate about? Who inspires you to create more? Let me know so we can inspire each other! 

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