So busy these pasts couple days working to actually feel like I’m making progress. Going to do this and finding I still have to take care of that. I cleaned up the craft room so that I could start another project only to find the un-ironed clothing from months ago sitting there with cat hair on them. So many layers of leftover work.
There are boxes and piles of papers and cards and photos and art supplies here and there. Leftovers from people I was and people I thought I might be. Layers of clutter and indecision. Consideration and indecision are my masters. And I am left in the chaos in between.
As every purposeful task seems to hinge on a previously undone one. As I stumble on another layer, a wadded up incomplete project in a shelf corner, half of me wants to be OK with, “Oh but you had a baby”. But the other part wants to cry “BS”. There’s a pattern of sabotage here.
So I pulled out that ironing and began to iron only to find that at least four shirts had spots on them. Back downstairs they went to be treated. My hard work recently to shed a few pounds worked and I was cheered to try on clothing and begin the fall wardrobe change over. But that could and would have been easily thwarted with that feeling of being bloated and bulge. It seems I missed out on wearing lots of my clothing because I gave up on myself at a certain point. I can’t wear this and that dwindled my wardrobe down to a handful of OK pieces. I am going to say that shut down of possibilities happens in other areas as well.
I think there’s a system of abundance and creativity that gives over to doubt and forgetfulness. I never see what I’ve accomplished. I don’t follow through completely and keep on task. I am made of layers of doubt and resentment and shame. And it’s everywhere. It’s on my body and in my closets and in my head. I’m listening harder to the reasons and excuses I come up with when I touch something or don’t touch something. And “I don’t know how to” and “ later” are two give-aways that this is the manifestation of my stuck and dealing with this particular thing is exactly what I need to be doing.
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It’s like the current rut is so familiar and so safe that any hint of crawling out of it is met with some sabotage to fall back in. What is so scary about making some changes? And I’m asking that rhetorically/globally because I too have gone through periods where it’s more comfortable to be in the discomfort of have-lived dreams.
Who are we pleasing? What greater fear are we avoiding?
For me, it’s success. I am afraid that if I do it right and graduate to that higher level, I won’t be able to maintain it. And then everyone will see I don’t belong there.
And that is why I’m about to work this Mighty Ugly book hard. Because without faith in my abilities, faith to keep producing quality talented work, I will not risk stepping out of this layer. I need to decide once and for all that what I got is always at any given time more than enough to get me through and then some.
Thanks so very much for being out there Sandra. I love all your endeavors always.
Love,
Shalagh