Nov 17, 2014
Don’t stop me if I’ve told you this because I’m going somewhere different with it today. A thoughtful and somewhat sad place but I can’t stop thinking about it.
I started blogging with truly no clue about blogging. I did it because someone I knew said I should. I’d never really even read a blog. And I just began. What’s followed is a lot of blood, sweat , and tantrums.
I have stayed the course though and am glad I did because of the growth I have experienced both as a writer and as a human being who needed to prove my worth and the value of human connection. But you don’t get to enjoy the lessons unless you go the distance.
This can be a very solitary practice. So many sources of input vying for your attention that I feel lucky if anyone reads my blog. Please don’t feel bad that you don’t comment either. Those that can do. Purposes of entertainment are personal to everyone. And I can remember being reluctant to comment once too.
I have been online now long enough to see some of my fellow bloggers discontinue their blogging. One gal got a full-time job. Two just sort of stopped publishing posts and show up to “like” something every once in a while. But the one that upset me the most was a gal who I almost met this past Summer at the Blog U conference. She committed blog suicide.
I was just about to write a piece on how upset I was about her abrupt disappearance when Robin Williams took his life. And the death of this wonderful and beloved man seemed too tragic to even use the word suicide in any other context. But I do feel a kind of concern for this gal’s welfare and here’s why.
There’s a community here online and when you connect with people, they’re just like the people you know from your everyday life. Like your mail carrier or your bus driver. They make you happy when they chat with you. But then what if you heard them start to say that you were so pretty and that they could never consider themselves pretty. Or that you were smart and they just knew they were dumb. And then one day they were missing from their job permanently.
This gal praised me and I was so flattered but I felt that shift into implosion. Suggestions of unhappiness and unworthiness and anxiety. And then wham, she was missing. She had deleted her blog address and all of her social media outlets. I wanted to scream out, why? One of ours was gone. Many of us new bloggers have felt that wavering doubt of that first year of blogging. I understand low self-esteem so well. I comprehend comparing myself to other bloggers and writers (and designers) and feeling crappy about me. And I guess I am reminded again of how I love doing this and how tenuous our bonds with others really are.
So Jean, if you are still reading my blog, know that I heard your distress and felt absolutely powerless to help you. I did notice you go missing. I am not a more talented a blogger or writer or mother than you are. I hope that you and your children are well and looking forward to a happy holiday season. And that if you ever needed an ear or anything I have to give you, I am still here. Imprisoned in this box but also out in the world contributing my soul and gathering happiness anyway I can.
Nov 14, 2014
As the week comes to a skidding halt, I wanted to catch you up on all the wonderful creative endeavors which have passed and some yet to come.
On November 3rd, I wrote myself a permission slip to create. I Instagrammed my crappy cell phone picture.
The permission slip reads:
“I hereby give myself permission to make art, To prioritize, schedule, and spend time making art. Because I need to make a change in my life.”
I went on to say, “I needed to grant myself permission. And now that I have it, there’s no question that art needs to happen every single day of my life. And that my soul will rise above the troubles I always have when I’m stuck in my think box”.
And so I began to make something daily.
On my to do list were making cards for birthday gals and pen pals. And then people said how great these were and I said I’ll send you one too. So I made more. I am still making them and sending them. I’m attempting to prove that I can step up and create at any moment and that I can justify my Etsy shop with my creations. And I’m giving what I’d like to receive.
I was rather Inspired by my trip to DC to the Smithsonian and meeting Kim Werker, the author of Make It Mighty Ugly.
This was written on the wall in the craft exhibit wing.
My mind is such a thought labyrinth that unless I have rules to follow around making stuff more often giving me pleasure and hope, then I won’t create and that’s no good. Rules are made to be obeyed. My new rule is to create constantly. So these happened next.
I’m still feeling a heartfelt ‘Wow’ for these leaves which were absolutely inspired by something I saw online that blew me away.
I took it and spun it my way. And these in turn inspired some other cards. More on those later.
I also stopped by Moonvine to see Pama. She’s asked me if I would decorate a tree for the Hospice Festival of Trees. So that makes three Christmas trees I’ll have my hands on this year. Next week I’ll be making a proper visit to Moonvine for picture-taking so you can see all the wonderful holiday merchandise she just got in. Shopping locally is so very easy when you have these kind of covetable presents to choose from. FUN.
I am continuing to live my hope through my creative actions and I’m definitely finding I see life a little differently with this permission finally in place. I loved this little butterfly collage and I think it embodies how I feel these days. Have a lovely fabulous amazing weekend and a wonderful Waterfowl Festival weekend to everyone in Easton, Maryland.
If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.
And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.
Nov 12, 2014
Thoughts on financial stability inevitably return me to memories of scarcity. In addition to my own baggage, I also carry the impact and memories of my ancestors and their stories of hard times too. Many of these stories about moments of scarcity and shame will never be mentioned yet the psychological effects of these events linger through the generations. As survivors, we recreate what we know, even if those circumstances are undesirable. But surviving and living are two different places to be.
I often notice that feeling of the shadow pain and sadness where my abundance should be. But recently, I wanted to see if I couldn’t study my thoughts and create a little “more” in spite of my conclusion that I live on less. I believe in manifestation and if I’m thinking I don’t have enough (time, patience, or money) than I don’t. So I concentrated on the words Abundance and Opportunity as the words I wanted to go steady with.
Surprisingly at first, my brain wanted to dismiss the words altogether. It was a struggle to keep them present in my mind. I kept thinking, what were those words again? I finally got them to stick. And as I figured out more ways I could show up for myself and get out of my own way, and thus increase the odds for opportunities for abundance to occur, I found I was feeling more hopeful. And creative.
My Eureka moment came when I acknowledged that I couldn’t make money by saying “make money”. The only possibility of my making an income ever was in continuing to practice those things that I love. I committed to daily creativity and wrote myself a permission slip. And I also committed to sharing this process and it’s outcome with the people who enjoy it. My online community, my family, and my friends all cheer when I share my creative endeavors with them so why rob them of the fun and myself of the support?
And now I am feeling more abundant. I am using what I have and the creativity comes without effort. I am fulfilling my promise to myself and feel the confidence in my abilities building. I’m endeavoring to be one of those people who recognize and acknowledge their capabilities and talents. And I feel certain that my opportunities are hovering close by waiting for me to see and name them.
If you work hard, life’s easier especially when you do what you love accompanied by the people you like. And you keep the doors wide open. I know that if I keep telling myself the same story over and over about how I don’t have enough money to buy a new printer cartridge or don’t have enough time to be creative, that will be my reality. That is not how I want this story to end. This story needs to end with Abundance and opportunity, my two new favorite words.