Do I need time?

It’s funny that I actually do not need more time.

Back when I was a young mom working around the clock I would have said YES! Absolutely!Sleep was in short supply. Meals and laundry ate up huge chunks of my day. How did I do it? I’m not a fan of mundane chores. Routine is not my favorite. At different times I was working in and out of my home. Running, always running.

Today, I love when I have things to do that aren’t in the yard. My job and yoga keep me a little busy. The way chores are drawn out, are endless, never having any urgency, is a different way to live. It’s taken me a while to figure it out and then accept it.

I still balk at routine. I did learn to make chores more satisfying and fast as one with four busy kids might do. But I, from the youngest of ages, was always looking for something way more fun to do when I was done. As in get the room cleaned so I could go outside, (and not to weed or rake)

Getting done was my constant goal. Creativity came after chores. Except when it didn’t. Oh there were those crazy deadline approaching days when life ran amuck until roughly five o’clock when we (I) would run around cleaning up and maybe brushing our hair so it would look like maybe we weren’t goofing off all day. Oh I wasn’t fooling anyone, but a way younger me wanted to be a good wife and mother so supper had to be ready…

I wonder what it would be like if creating was my work. If goofing off making stuff was my actual job. (Oh wait, it was). What if I was born into a creative family? Or I lived with creatives who take art seriously? What if I just started calling my art my work? I mean it’s not like Im watching tv. Art isn’t passive. But it does still feel like everything else is important and nessesary, while painting, drawing, art is not. Plus it’s messy…

I learned that doing art was silly and foolish and a time waster. And made an unnecessary mess. I know it’s not, since it’s what gives me the most satisfaction of anything. I know it’s valid for me in my life.

What you learn as a kid has a funny hold on you, though. Even after making a life and businesses around art, as well as holding a full time art teaching position, and being a professional artist, designer, home stager, I still feel as though I’m goofing off while everyone else is doing serious important work things.

And here I am.

Working all day. Taking a few walking breaks and sprinkler moving breaks, but mostly working.

Thanks to the Untethered Soul I have a new perspective to view my artist self and all the conversations going on in my artist’s head from.

Oh and I forgot the part where I’m not happy with what I’ve been doing. There’s that part too. I’ll look with fresh eyes tomorrow. Today I’m glad to have worked. To have dedicated a full day to this art thing I’m compelled to keep doing.

I guess it’s a good time to observe myself thinking all of that!Hmmm.

I get obsessed over things.

Books, movies, songs, albums, clothes, decor, recipes…

I’ve never figured out why. I can’t control it, and sometimes things even over lap. These come out of what seems like nowhere. Though I don’t live under a rock. something sparks and fuels me.

Oh and if it’s not weird enough that I get obsessed, I, even in the middle of being obsessed, already know they are not the coolest of things to everyone else. But to me? They can’t get any cooler!

I know from experience that whatever ‘it’ is, or “they” are, it will have to run its course. I will have to listen a million times, make a bunch of Amish Dolls and quilts, read the book five times, try countless versions of the recipe or whatever it takes.

Currently, I’ve been reading the book, Untethered Soul. Often. I’ve read it three times in the last five weeks. Which doesn’t feel like enough. So I keep reading and highlighting. Also, unrelated, I’ve been listening to Andrea Botecheli sing Hallelujah and Prince sing Kiss and Let’s Go Crazy on repeat. Doing yoga 7 days a week…

My system is not absorbing the time change very well. I’m feeling almost flu like in the evenings after feeling like I’m starving, then not hungry at all by dinner time. It’s just one hour of a difference, but yikes. I can’t handle it.

The election energy is also snapping around me like that feeling of static electricity in my hair. Remember touching things after swishing across the carpet in socks. It’s as though my body is bracing for shock. I was never a fan of being zapped.

What I really seem to be obsessed with lately, is influencing my own energy. Staying open. Letting go.

I wonder if my inborn ultra sensitivity is picking up on all of the conflicting energies swirling around today. Or maybe it’s just that I fear collective fear. This uncomfortable anticipation is giving me some excellent practice in letting go.

Meanwhile it’s a beautiful day in New England. Record warmth, bright blue skies and spectacularly colored leaves in every direction. Sunshine sparkling off the water. It’s like a movie set.

My plan for the rest of today is just gentleness. Easing through each hour. Eating some food. Reading my book. Breathing.

Watching, observing, my human self feel and think and enjoy a croissant and a too late in the day cup of coffee from a fancy French bakery.

Which feels like seven year old me on a solo trip to Montreal visiting my godmother. Sitting inside her neighbors freezer, with her neighbor’s daughter eating ice cream out of ice cream store size containers. (there were three. THREE.) My new friend didn’t say a thing when she handed me a spoon and I followed as she opened the lid and climbed inside. The freezer. No grownups anywhere to be seen. As much ice cream as we could scoop into our mouths on that hot summer afternoon. Three flavors. Three! We were back outside playing before anyone noticed.

My whipped cream filled croissant, with toasted almonds and generous dusting of powdered sugar, feels decadent and ompulant and in its own way forbidden, or at least on the sly, beside a flirting-with-the-wrong-amount-of-caffeine-at-the-wrong-time-of-day-coffee. This made up a perfectly enjoyable way to spend some of my afternoon.

Open and joyful. Listening to Prince, taking in the colors of fall reflecting with the sun over the water. Breathing in and out…

Know?

Strong words, a sweeping all inclusive generality. Okay, I’ll bite.

I think everyone ‘should’ KNOW: about the physiology of breathing.

If we all knew what could change inside our brains, within our physical bodies and in our thoughts, if we simply stop and pay attention to our own breathing.

Any moment, one deep long breath, in and out, can calm our whole parasympathetic nervous system. It can turn a moment. Practiced regularly, it has the potential to change a life.

Everyone should know that they are several deep breaths away from at least a moment of peace.

I always think I’m a book club person. I love to read. I read fast and I like to talk about books. I’ll read practically anything…

You would think I was a shoe in for this book club construct.

I’ve been a member of book clubs and over the years met some wonderful people through going.

But, as I’ve learned hundreds of times before, it’s weirdly not my thing.

I have to relearn this about myself repeatedly, I guess it’s who I partly am.

I wonder what part of me it is that feels depressed afterward. That’s a question. Also: Who is feeling depressed about what???

I’m letting the depressed feelings just be. I’m oddly homesick, or at least feeling it more thoroughly today. Maybe that’s part of it.

I don’t know. I probably had my hopes up. I need to get better at disappointment. The day was wrought with it. Probably more practice with relaxing into discomfort. Ugh. Chalk it up to another waste of my time. I don’t regret the reading part, just the sunny Sunday afternoon hours I won’t get back.

I would rather admire the moon from where I am, than go there, so no amount of $

A lot of stuff.

And not much really.

For example, right now, Im boiling eggs. Not for myself.

I’m working on some paintings. I wish that was going better.

I’m helping get this lot ready to plant after the entire grassy area died from an infestation of grubs, (this is a real thing, apparently. Several people had to reseed due to grubs this year). Lots of raking and weed pulling. It’s a whole thing…

I’m heading to yoga soon.

I’m reading “The Untethered Soul” again.

I wonder if I can keep viewing life from this book-inspired perspective. It’s been helpful. I need to remember to cooperate with myself.

I swear this whole life experience right now seems like an exercise for me with this. The direness of every new ‘problem’ is a slow setup. These are not dire problems, at least not to me, but to others, they are.

Wanting to be respectful, I do my best to feel their importance.

While dodging the heavy energies and remembering that I am an observer, both here in this situation and of my own personal life and my own mental chatter. It’s a great challenge.

Having compassion when it’s really just grass that won’t be green in a month no matter what anyone does.

Just because for me it’s grass that’s been dying and dead for a long while, doesn’t mean that it’s not of grave importance and embarrassment for people who missed the early signs two summers ago. There has been much going on. Plus no one likes to be convinced of things when they are already convinced of other things.

So, what I’m working on, is staying conscious and aware. Remembering that I am simply an observer.

I am not my thoughts.

Not the good ones or the bad ones. I am not my mind or even my body. I witness that these are, but they aren’t me. I witness and observe through my senses, but they aren’t me either.

I’ve thought about this before. When we die and no longer have brains or hearing or sight or touch or taste or smell, what is that like? Who are we without any of these?

Judgement? Not helpful when I’m trying to relax and observe and allow energy to flow through. Clinging to my preferences and opinions isn’t helpful? Nope. It turns out it’s not.

I guess I’m working on relaxing and observing. Sounds simple enough…

I have no idea. I guess I’m not that self aware.

When I started to type “I’m an open book…” G said you are not an open book!

So that’s my answer. I’m a mystery

As much to myself as anyone I guess!

Lazy days, I remember those.

Cozy warm moments in front of the fireplace. Curling up under a blanket reading or watching something inspiring. Painting as the hours slip by, blissfully, often completely oblivious to the passage of time. Wholesome deliciousness baking in the oven and/or simmering on the stove. Candles, music, oh comfort, oh beauty. Ah lazy, unhurried comfort…

This morning as the sun was coming up, the full moon hung low over the water. It was barely past 6:30. We dashed down to the dock to pull the boat out (because she keeps taking on water and we had forgotten to the night before).

Our breath coming out in little clouds as we ran, we couldn’t help marvel at the giant globe of moon straight in front of us, ribbons of light reflecting gold on the water.

Sometimes beauty surprises me. Sometimes I try to create it. Sometimes I seek it, like our scenic boat ride yesterday, or the tiny town of Chester we showed my brother.

I love that today, on this chilly morning, we were literally running toward a beautiful surprise moonscape.

I have traded in lazy days for days with unexpected marvels. Little things that take my breath away. Conversation, music, exceptional yoga, brilliant foliage, lovely landscapes. My time here is taken up with schedules and chores for now.

I have learned to pay attention. I know to give attention to the things that I love. I sift and sort for all things graditude . Love, Beauty. Light.

I miss the balance of having a unstructured days, but I take in my wonderful moments fully.

What Different Thing Could I Try that I’ve never done before?

How about monetary success? Would that be fun? I think so. It sounds a fun…

I’ve always gotten by. I’ve had a pretty charmed life actually. I’ve been lucky. I like work. I’ve volunteered, I’ve had paid positions since the age of fourteen. Even earlier if you count babysitting. But work and success haven’t equaled each other yet in my life. I’ve been working in the field of art for years. Things I’ve worked the hardest at, have not brought monetary success.

I’ve also tried freelancing and owning businesses. I’m pretty good at the research and development parts, but marketing and production not so much. I can produce, but I surely don’t enjoy repetition. Also, book keeping is not my favorite.

I love working. I enjoy being engrossed in projects and happily lose track of time while engaged in work. Lately, I’ve even enjoyed working at the laundry place. it’s the perfect way to get out and pass the hours. Folding can be very zen as my yoga friends pointed out, so true.

Before I die, it might be fun to actually be successful. Why not? At what, I don’t yet know, but I’m sure it will be something I both love and am good at.

For now, I’m helping my friend set up her new gallery and making some paintings to go in it. At the very least I alway get to do cool things. So far my eclectic privledged slice of life has been fun.

Widening my perspective, including more in, as in success, might be something new to try out.

Balance

Movement

Contrast

Focus

Variety

Unity

Rhythm

Harmony

If life was art and it sort of is, I need all these to keep my interest, to feel my best, so I can have a desire to keep showing up.

When I’m missing one, it’s like a wheel fell off. Then I feel off. If I have too much of one and not enough of another, it easily explains why one of my paintings isn’t working. Often enough, I’ve neglected one of these and well, there you go. My life, my art is not where I’d prefer it to be.

Today yoga was a lot of balancing poses. The class hit all of my principles. A little of this a little of that, in perfect harmony, with movement and contrast.

Sometimes a day will provide all of my principle boxes to be checked, but very often there are missing peices to my perfect puzzle. After reading The Untethered Soul, I’m trying to float my conscious back to the place of observer. Rather than trying to fix what’s off, I’m attempting to relax around any discomfort and let it go. I hope I’m correct in the understanding that as I do this, things will move and flow with more ease.

Im caught between letting go and still caring enough to feel bad. So I know I’m not really doing it, but I am observing myself not doing it, if that’s progress.

The one thing I might say is that as much as I practice and try and change my up habits, life continues to challenge and baffle me.

I once told someone many years ago, that I never live up to my own standards. (awkward suggestions followed, I tried to explain that it wasn’t a bad thing…)

I can and do improve, I’ve accepted my limitations, but what can I say? If I could, I would choose to be much more brilliant. I’d choose to be a much better designed me. As an artist, I want to create better art, always, so I guess I don’t see this as problematic.