The hours before I begin a new class are horrible! I always worry about how it is going to go….do
I really know what I am doing?....will they like me or just think I am a
LooneyTune? As I gather up my courage
again, I whisper this mantra under my breath.....A LOT! “This fear is worth it….This
fear is worth it! This is what I am
meant to do, it is why I am here. I am
human, I am going to screw up and be wrong, I am not now nor was I ever made to
be perfect. I am an artist….screwing up
and making something wonderful from the mess is a part of my creative process!”
The courage to let the world see my imperfections and vulnerabilities does not
make me weak and broken, it makes me strong!
Oh….how I love the full moon! We had a particularly wonderful class last
night, chatting about, “listening” to our creative artist child, (instead of
the critic that lives in our heads) but the very best part happened when class
ended. While driving home...the full
moon bared itself from behind a bank of clouds.
I know, I know… the real full moon enthusiasts will be quick to point
out that it is not quite yet a FULL moon, but you could not convince me of that
last night! It was huge and bright and
overwhelming! Whether by luck or divine
direction, I just happened to be passing a golf course as the moon was fully
exposed. Not a person in sight, this
huge bright moon begging me to soak it in and an unbelievable amount of soft
dry grass. Yes I did! It was meant to be, too easy, and wonderful! Lying alone in the grass literally soaking in
the moon light…perhaps one of the most amazing experiences I have had in a long
time. I suspect I am really a “moon
child”….living by the sun but feeling by the moon. 
I began gutting the studio last week, mostly in an effort to
stay busy, stave off depression, redirect my heart and my mind and to keep
myself out of trouble. The studio is still in the stages of being dismantled
and put back together, not just the front part of the studio but the back room
too, where years of picture framing took place. A room that has been largely ignored as it also became the home for all of those things that I did not know what else to do with, but could not let go of. I began
thinking it was time to get rid of it all, the molding, the equipment, the
tools and the stuff. Time for me to let go of all evidence of my past, I wanted to let go of
who I was and what I did. But looking
back, I suspect, this cleaning and pitching may have been outward visible
expressions of my inward overwhelming emotional feelings of loss. I am learning that I am not ready to let go of all of the good
things and the lessons that are born of the grief from my past and my life
experiences, both good and bad. I am taking it all apart, my studio and my life,
examining it, cleaning or re-purposing the parts that are worth keeping and
pitching those things that are broken, hurtful and just do not work for me anymore.
I apologize for the dirges that seem to drone on and on. But my survival and healing seem to be a
process, I must be still healing. 
Beginnings, middles and endings are what life is made of. If I began every story knowing how it would
end, life would be really boring! Small
life stories and large life stories only have one thing in common…there is an
ending. There are no "happily ever afters", no promise of when,
how or why they will end. The only guarantee is that every story ends. 
The way I handle any kind of loss and grief is denial. In an effort to be private I will play down the importance of my grief. The way I make sure I am liked by others is to be happy and smiling all of the time, it is almost as though they insist on it. So, I ignore and hide my pain and in doing so I may be cheating myself out of some necessary life lessons by making others more comfortable. If you believe in synchronicity, and I do....this was most certainly written to me. 
Time to pull 'em up!
Time to be grateful for everything I have had and will continue to have
in my wonderful creative life. The
lesson I have learned is to never again to allow my self-worth and happiness be in the hands of someone else. Only I can pull 'em up. Only I can do what needs to be done to guard and grow my own life and heart.
What I difference a day makes. Yesterday I was scared but optimistic, today is
realistic, hurt and overwhelmed. I have been exposed to things that I suspect most
will never ever have to experience in their lives. In every sense of the word I have had to take
on more than I thought was possible. In
some ways I understand it has made me much stronger than most, but on the other
hand my heart and my love are being destroyed in the process. How much of this have I brought on myself,
how much can I change? I know I cannot
change others, the change has to be mine. The next question is what and how? I have no idea what comes next I just know
that I can no longer do this.
“Lean into the
discomfort” is the professional version of this, but sometimes I need regular
people “speak” to really understand the meaning. Yes I understand what discomfort means, but
what I have leaned into is so much bigger, meaner, nastier than
discomfort. Discomfort sounds like I
might have a blister from a new pair of shoes, a hang nail or an unexpected
(and expensive) car repair. What life has
handed me in the past few years was not discomfort; it has been out and out “scare
the shit out of me” stuff. Heart Attack,
not so successful open heart surgery (but had to give it a shot), defibrillator
implanted in my chest, and horrendous financial obligations (as a result of all of
this, even after insurace!). However…. what truly scares the crap
out of me is my creative work. What do I
do next, will it be good enough, do I have the talent to pull this off, and a
new class I have never taught before...teaching 2 classes over the summer, Holy CRAP!
For the past several years, going to the Dave Matthew's Band concert
July/Tampa has been a summer rite of passage for this old
woman. A reminder that I can "hang" with the best of them and that the music I love will heal and energize me. This year I am afraid it is going
to be one of the first real casualties of my heart. The crowds, the walking and climbing up into
the stands of an outdoor venue, the heat and yes maybe even the beer drinking….(how can you go to a
DMB concert without beer????) have
become more and more difficult. I love
the music, the excitement and watching creatives enjoying their work…. But, for the first time I am having to make
choices….real choices and I do not like it...I do not like it at all! 
If 2 “wrongs” do not make a “right”, Can 2 really bad screw
ups finally produce an “I meant to do that” moment?
An S-ICD (an implanted defibrillator) and these statistics are the reason I feel so much more confident, happy, more willing to try new things, to live, to love like I have not had the chance to in the past 5 years. It is the most amazing opportunity at a second chance and I am not wasting it. I am going to enjoy every minute every second on everything wonderful, fun and alive this life has to offer me! What a lucky woman I am!
Check…check…check and check!
It is not always easy but it is always worth it! Amazing that a 12th century poet
named Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī
from Persia (now Afghanistan) is currently
the #1 selling poet in the United States. Even way back then, we were told to conform, be comfortable,
do not challenge the rules, and care about what others think of you. But clearly Rumi suggests that greatness and
happiness comes from doing just the opposite.
No wonder he is the #1 poet!
There are small but crazy amazing coincidences in life that
point to the basic theory that there must be something bigger, more magic than
any of us can truly understand. When the
moon is full, more babies are born and more crimes are committed without
logical explanation, but I think one of the biggest unanswered “coincidences”
is that the moon and women both have 28 day cycles. 
I suspect for most southerners a blooming magnolia tree in
the yard is no big deal….but for me….It is huge! 
Predictable and reliable became synonymous in my mind and in my life and
both of them were necessary to be successful.
I do not want to be predictable, but have strained to be just that. In my art I was advised to stick with one
style, in my life as a wife and parent the same advice was constantly given. It was always difficult and uncomfortable,
but like most of life, that is expected if you want to be a good person. It
just cannot be that black or white. I am a good person. I
can be reliable and NOT predictable! 
There have always been a few dear loved ones that did not care that I did not
fit in and always supported my “unfitinedness”
(un-fit-in'-ed-ness – the unbelievable ability to NOT fit in and not care what
others think..... and very similar to unfuckwithable...there is a theme developing here!) I will be forever grateful
to that handful of lovelies in my life that encourage me to live, play, love,
go after anything and everything I want from life, no matter what. They do not know it, but they have saved my
life over and over and over again!
I used to be so angry with my parents, teachers, rules,
employers, society and any other entity that extolled the virtues of “fitting
in” or “doing what everyone else was doing”.
Just being “good enough” was a full time program for me. Appearing ordinary took all of the strength I
had. I was chronically reminded that I
had never attained really attained ordinary, I certainly was not good enough to even
consider exquisite. I do not want to be
angry anymore……
WARNING….grousing ahead!.....When I tell you there is a hockey puck in my boob…I am not
kidding! Now add the fact that I put on a bra that just mashes that thing into
my ribs and I think I have is a permanent bruise on my ribs. It is a chronic
daily OUCH! I know (and I am grateful)
for everything it does and will do for me.
But the everyday pain provoked by an evening of lifting and installing
art….it is screaming today! Grrrrrrr......
