A Story I’ve Told Myself

I’m all for a good story. I’ve even written a post or two on the subject of the voodoo of stories about you. But what if the stories that I tell myself are holding me back? Where once they were helpful and protected me from pain, they now are outdated and are keeping me from living a better life?

When I shut down my shop, Bally Eden, it was as if I had lost a child. So excruciatingly painful was this experience that I had to detach.

My chair for talbot rocks auction 2013 on

One of the coping mechanisms I used was to redefine myself. I exclaimed, “I am no longer a seller of stuff.” And that way, I was no longer in the retail business or could go resale shopping or be a shop owner. I was demoted to civilian again. And this served a purpose. I was done with that dream, like it or not. Too bad, so sad, move on.

People told me I should be an Etsy shop owner, sell online. But the pain was ouchy enough and I couldn’t go there. It just wasn’t the same. At all. The happy ending came when my change in my focus allowed me to become the writer I believed myself to be but just had not allowed myself the effort to practice and prove that I was. There was the reason for the demise of my shop.

Six years later, I’ve thought I would like to, need to, have a reason to sell my creative wares again. But there’s that pesky definition of me standing in my way. I’m not a seller of stuff, remember? And of course there’s also the sad news of Etsy’s policy change last year so now mass-produced items can be sold there. China made stuff is all over the site and Etsy shop owners are feeling the effect. As in they’re closing their shops. Heart-breaking, I know.

paper feathers on

But I think that can’t matter to me now. I feel like I need to just open up to all the possibilities that I keep controlling right out of being possible. So that I can try Ebay and Etsy and any other art making shop that is out there now like Society6. Why the heck not? Because it smacks of effort and I am no longer a seller of things? Pish and Posh.

Sometimes we need to dispel the spells that we cast. Because it’s what we believe we can or can’t do that will move us on or keep us put where we are. Manifestation is so much easier when you have permission.

Can you think of a story you need to throw down the disposal?

Muchier and Truthier

In the beginning of the year, I felt stronger. I might have had some goals and some purpose. My fellow bloggers did too. They were all picking out their words for the year and saying how they missed themselves. How they wanted to feel muchier and more truthful. Truthier. I can totally get with that as I don’t even remember the path that I may have strayed from. I have blogging amnesia. So without further adieu, I give you myself and my blog’s purpose and progress as I see it.

My name is Shalagh and I have written this blog for three years. I began this because I needed to practice my writing. It was lonely and full of doubts at first. Then I found my voice. And I kept using it. I am not as published as I’d like in alternates spaces but I have found people online and made connections I never knew were possible. And if I asked them, they’d help me. I just tend to ask the wrong things of the wrong people and see the imminent demise of my effort as a character flaw in myself.

muchier and truthier me from

I discovered I am both verbal and visual and in need of expressing and balancing both. Where I began here with all words, I then included pictures more and more. Now I am focusing on a balance of the two. A reformatting of the site has been long overdue but I am still looking for definition and branding for what my “thing” is.It may be apparent to everyone but me I fear.

I used to be funny and then I got serious and now I like to be both. My need to always be different makes it difficult for me to do what everyone else is doing and just fit in. I used to love to cuss, at least in person and I find its gratuitous usage in print annoying, but I am finding it hard to contain myself recently with the chaos that’s the onset of toddlerhood. I am a personal essayist who need to get myself published.

I keep looking for that grand master plan that will allow me to see the purpose of my life and direction I need to be headed. But I can tell you that may be a ruse. That I tend to make it harder than it should be is something I’m meditating on now. That I am very much who I am and still have yet to meet her, that is the muchier and truthier part of the story.

If you didn’t get a chance to play with/fill out my fun Questionnaire, you can do so here.

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.



Blue Huesday

Know me well and know, I’m A Green Girl. I don’t really do blue. Except my son’s eyes are blue so I guess I did do his sky eye colored blue. The only other exception is the aqua that became so popular and still pops in here and there. But otherwise, I don’t do blue. Except judging by these pictures, I do some blue by default.
Blue swing  on Blue Huesday on

Fiona at the beach from Blue Huesday on

Eamon on Cox Creek from from Blue Huesday on

Watching a puppet show in Chestertown from Blue Huesday on

David and David casette tape from Blue Huesday on

Sycamore bark on sheet from Blue Huesday on

living room couch in blue from Blue Huesday on

De Soto in Denton on Blue Huesday on

Under the thunderdome on Blue Huesday on

Si truck on Blue Huesday on


The church next door from Blue Huesday on

Fiber arts building in Denton, Md od Blue Huesday on

Campaign sign  from Blue Huesday on

paper chandeliers from Blue Huesday on

Shots day from Blue Huesday on

Halloween house from Blue Huesday on

odd sky from Blue Huesday on


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