I M Perfect lady

Category: Art & Quilts

  • Yes to Me.

    I just began listening to "Year of Yes – How to Dance It Out, Stand in the Sun, and Be Your Own Person."  By Shonda Rhimes.

    One of her lines was "Saying No has gotten me to this life I am living…"

    She committed herself to say Yes, to the things that she was afraid of, uncomfortable with, the ones where in the past she had said, "No".

    On her birthday, she made a vow, that for the next year….she would answer Yes instead.

    As I look back at my last 10 years, that is what I had done. 

    I moved into the places where in the past I had steered clear of.

    I traveled into the dark and scary places; felt emotions that left me breathless.

    I pushed myself to express and say things, in the past, I would not have said.

    I introduced myself to the most terrifying truths imaginable…and lived their truths.

    It isn't about saying Yes to wildly adventurous places; but to say Yes to your fears and uncomfortableness.

    The woman who welcomed folks into her booth…had walked deep into herself; exploring all the wounded crevices.  Has felt the somber landscape of aloneness…and had lived her way back to be creatively bright.

    When you face your darkest fears and say Yes to the most awful of truths…you become strong and brave beyond measure.  I can face the outer life's scary places- because I have traveled through my own inner landscape of terror.

    As I told one woman…"I wouldn't take nothing for my journey now."  For there were so many times, I didn't want to live through it, to experience the shunning, the adverse effects of my speaking out….but each of those moments put strength into my character…allowing me to stand tall.

    I began a life of saying Yes to me.

    Yes to my emotions, my fears, my truths, my love, my joy, my peace. 

    I welcomed the most broken part of me into my awareness.

    I did have to dance it out….fake it until you make it.

    I did soak up nature to balance out so much darkness.

    I did lose myself in art in order to find myself on the other side.

    I love my art even more. For it has kept the space of me….Until I was Me again.

    A new me.

    A me that is a colorful, creative, and at peace with what is.

    For I know me and am willing to watch me change and grow and am excited to know that I am still an art piece in the making; an ever changing life of Art.

    This morning I created this…."Be the Flow"

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    Be the Flow of You….the Yes and the No.  The comfortable and the uncomfortable.

    As Byron Katie says, "If you can't say No, I don't trust your yes."

    Same goes for saying Yes.

    My life changed when I said Yes to all that made me uncomfortable, afraid and alone…

    It was where my real truth and authenticity lived.

    Right behind the fear of saying Yes to Me.

     

  • In Front of It.

    My Lady and I had a wonderful Art Affair. 

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    Thanks to my daughter for all her help in making this possible, and for doing the business in the booth.  I was then able to visit and connect to so many women; some I haven't seen in over 30 years…and new friends.

    It was a moment of personal achievement; not in displaying my Art…but myself.

    This venue hosts many walks of life and the topic isn't recovering from abuse or about hope for victims of sexual abuse…but Art.  And yet many of my interactions with women was about hope, self-empowerment, love after trauma, etc. 

    I can't know how the other booths went; but we shared stories in mine.

    My Art was the icebreaker.

    The words on the quilts began the dialogue…

    I connected or reconnected.

    I felt strong in who I am, no matter who stood before me or walked by my booth.

    I am in a community where my sense of self was shattered and put back together.

    In the past the shattered self was too afraid to mix or present my new self to old relationships.

    Yesterday I felt strong as the lady in my quilts.

    I was dressed, as my daughter said, "Like an eccentric Artist"…and yet felt none of the old fears and self-doubts when faced with old church members.

    There was a peace within me.

    An acceptance of self…and no anger or disgust or other negative emotions towards them.

    In the past, I must have hated my abused self, my lack of self-worth etc…and those emotions were misdirected upon them.

    I just felt amazed at the peace within me.

    Perhaps not even peace; but joy of being me – completely and utterly Me.

    With no shame or parts of me I wanted to hide.

    While I thought it was "My Lady"  at the Art Affair…and her debut….it was actually Mine.   

    The Art was the backdrop…to Me.

    Putting yourself on display by the Art you do.

    A woman had said to me, "In order to display your art, you have to be completely okay with who you are and have no secrets."  Another one said, "You can't be anal to do what you do."  And, then she glanced down at my stripped leggings and smiled.  "You aren't in a box…at all."

    What a great full circle moment…stepping back onstage as Me.

    Okay, and at full peace; bubbling with Joy!

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    Picture taken by Melissa Hronkin

    In the past, I believe that I felt I needed to apologize for who I was, what I did, do and have done.  I had to adjust and excuse myself and my art to fit into their approval etc.

    Yesterday, I was fully unabashedly Me.

    Me…as Me; My Lady…

    I felt that I was no longer hiding behind my Art; but had stepped out in front of it.

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  • Keweenaw Art Affair!

    This coming Saturday, I will be in the Keweenaw Art Affair.  It is the first Art Show that My Lady will be in.  This seemed hard to believe.  

    When I look at the vast amount of quilts I have created…it doesn't seem possible that I have sold so many without doing Art Shows.

    It will be fun to see my booth bursting with My Ladies.

    The person I am today – compared to who I was when I did craft shows is completely different. 

    There is depth and messages hidden in my art and I have a whole inner landscape that I have explored and shared.

    In the past, it was about ME and then the Art.

    This time, I feel like I am the front man (woman) for My Lady.

    That she is the main feature.

    I have been so busy with my Art – I hadn't really thought about the Art Affair.

    My Lady is going to the Art Affair.

    She is bringing along;

    Speak Your Silence

    Semicolon

    She speaks to women of all ages and walks of life…sharing empowerment and joy!

    I am excited at the prospect of being present when others meet her.

    In the past, I have dropped her off and she entertained others in stores, cafes and galleries and local health care offices.

    Although, she and I were at a Gala together….and we had a reception; but those both were focused more on me…and she the sidekick.

    This time, she is the Star and the Art.

    I look forward to those who will be meeting her for the first time as well as others who are quite familiar with us both.

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    See you at the Keweenaw Art Affair!

     

  • Able to live.

    "I am living my mother's un-lived life"  Gloria Steinem

    While listening to Gloria speak to Oprah…I heard her say these words.

    I know this to be true.

    There is a life that is beyond what we set out doing.

    A life that isn't bound by religion.

    Tied to family's perceived obligations.

    Where being responsible blocks the roads to a life we want to live.

    I also recognize that this sentiment may not enter into your awareness until you are older; when the life you lived and are living isn't the ones of your dreams. Where you dreams feel like distant memories.

    I can safely say that I had no grand visions of what my life would be…or even should be.  I was on a track of doing what was expected, and more importantly, what didn't upset the applecart. 

    I would say, I didn't freely consider Me and who that would look and present itself to the world.

    The choices I made were not conscious…in that I ever looked at how they would impact me; but rather each choice had a greater impact on my outer world and those around me.   I lived to serve others and to make things smoother- ironing out the wrinkles of other's bad choices.

    Is it a LIVED LIFE, if you use your life in a codependent way for others?

    Are you truly living your life; if none of your choices are solely based on your very own happiness?

    I believe there is a movement; an awakening of souls who crave to LIVE this life.

    Imagine the world where women are in control of their reproductive organs.  Isn't that odd that so many are not.  Literally; have no freedom to this.

    I know, that I have been seen as the mental one, the crazy lady who wants to destroy the church, religion and family.  When in actuality, I am trying to free women to live their own lives.  And, not be an appendage of the church and or mother.

    When some would say, "You are your mother's right hand…." it was literally true and her mind.  I was grown in her image; we moved as one.  And, I was also there to do much of what she didn't want to do or could handle or face etc.  I was groomed to be her front man to ward off so many things that would have over-burdened her.  

    And, the church owned much of my body.

    The un-lived life…is to be attached by invisible strings…to move only in step with the needs of church, faith, and family.

    The burden of this is beyond what my mind now can hold. 

    I cut the strings.

    I am no longer attached to anyone.

    I get to live the life that my mother wasn't able to live.

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  • Free Fall into Being Me!

     

    "After years of suppressing emotions and thoughts about abuse, I was disconnected from the parts of me that made me – Me.  Relationships are built through regular communication. Daily journaling has been an excellent way to build a new relationship with myself – a relationship that's founded on honesty and vulnerability. It's an opportunity to check in with myself every day and ask, "What am I feeling?" "What am I thinking about?" and "What matters to me?"   Christina Enevoldsen

     

    Christina's book "The Rescued Soul – a writing journal for the Healing of Incest and Family Betray, is a great tool that will be the conduit for reconnecting you to you.

    For you… to explore you.

    What is so interesting to me, is that in the first days and weeks after realizing I was a victim of sexual abuse….I wrote.

    I wrote and I wrote and I wrote.  

    What I didn't know, is that I was writing my way back to me.

    I also, was very anxious IF I didn't have a writing tool with me.

    I traveled with pencil and paper for years.

    Literally. 

    At one point, a sentiment arose "I am looking for myself, I don't know who I am or that I was even missing."

    It was completely accurate.

    Abuse and the survival personality that arises to live in an abusive home eclipses who we truly are.

    When we are made to hide our feelings and our emotions – we are literally losing ourself.

    When we are made to do things to make others happy at the cost of our own happiness; we are turning away from who we are.  

    Often these people pleasing survival skills create a whole persona that isn't us.

    I recall also waking up to me and looking around my home and I didn't see Me anywhere.  There was decorations and things around; but nothing that had a Feeling of Me in it.

    My survival self lived as me for 46 years.

    I am now 10 years old; going on 11.

    I love that I have been building a new relationship with me.

    This one is based on or built upon my ability to be completely and brutally honest with myself.  Even at the cost of losing relationships.

    My main, and first priority, is being true to me.

    It has been a wild, sorrowful, grief stricken, exciting, awe-inspiring, soul defining, courageous, free fall into being Me!

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  • Peace on Earth to Me!

    While listening to a novel, it came to me how I have changed myself twice in my life;  

    Once…to survive sexual abuse, I fled reality and lived an awkward life one step removed from reality; where my mind created stories about life…and I had very little contact with real reality.  I became someone different in order to keep the abuse at bay and to keep 'loving' parents.  It required that I would leave out parts of reality…the parts that would taint the family's image.  My mind began this process to protect me from knowing.  

    And the second, when reality came crashing in…when someone dared to speak of the darkness that tainted our family.  I woke up to reality and had to change to fit it.  I had to become one with reality; no matter how ugly and grief-stricken it was…or how much I would have to lose.  I had to lose it all to become who I am. 

     

    The grief I felt yesterday was the losses I have lived through. 

    How both of my transformations of self were so very costly.

    It leaves you without a home to return to.  A familiar landscape that welcomes you home.  It is to be without a hearth to rest upon.

    The emptiness and separateness, the belonging nowhere, often times is overwhelming.

    The novel was of the Jewish people returning to their homes after the war…to find nothing there.  No family.  A home; but with strangers inside.  They had to begin a new life; with so much missing.

    I don't understand what they lost. For, most lost loving parents. Parents that would have died to see their child spared.  They lost loving families.

    What I know of breaking the cycle of abuse in families is the loneliness of building a new legacy.  To be the generation that ends it, you start out on your own.

    Alone.

    You may have companions for awhile; but be prepared to end up alone.

    This is why most families of abuse continue passing the abuse on; no one wants to be alone.  Their needs are stronger than the need to change the legacy.

    There isn't a literal war that separates us.  

    The enemy lives within the family.  

    We become the enemy.

    I had to transform myself to stay in the family as a child.  And, then in order to stand against abuse; I had to transform myself to be different than family.

    To not be the enemy of my own children.

    The Jewish people lost all their valuables, their pictures, their family members.

    I have all they lost.

    I could return home.  

    The family is there.  

    But, they are hollow or empty of what I seek.

    Deaf to what I hear.

    Blind to what I see.

    Uncomprehending to what I say.

    It is to be a foreigner in your own home.

    There is no welcome there or feelings of comfort and peace for me.

    There is no going home again.

    It is to begin the process so someday my children, grandchildren, and their children  will know what home and love is.

    The loneliness I am forging through today is so they don't have to.

    The love begins with me.

    And, as I look forward and be here now….there is love.

    A love of value.

    A love of truth.

    A love of reality.

    A love of courage.

    A love of self, life, creativeness, freedom….

    While I have lost much….I have gained more.

    I have transformed abuse back to love.

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    Peace on Earth to Me…

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  • Not against Us.

    Some pages I earmarked from "Big Magic" by Elizabeth Gilbert.

    "But I see it differently.  I think perfectionism is just a high-end, haute couture version of fear.  I think perfectionism is just fear in fancy shoes and a mink coat, pretending to be elegant when actually it's just terrified. Because underneath that shiny veneer, perfectionism is nothing more than a deep existential angst that says, again and again, "I am not good enough and I will never be good enough."

    I knew this to be true.  How so many are stopped before they begin; due to the fear. What I didn't know was that it was personal fear of not being good enough…NOT that their Art wouldn't be good enough.   It isn't about the art….it is about how you feel about being you.

    And, this page….

    "It has taken me years learn this, but it seems to be the case, that if I am not actively creating something, then I am probably actively destroying something (myself, a relationship, or my own peace of mind.)"

    We can use our imagination to create something or to destroy something.  I am choosing more and more often to be creative.  I don't like how destroying thoughts feel inside of me.  Think on this….

    And,

    "By completely absorbing our attention for a short and magical spell, it can relieve us temporarily from the dreadful burden of being who we are.  Best of all, at the end of your creative adventure, you have a souvenir – something that you made, something to remind you forever of your brief but transformative encounter with inspiration."

    I truly believe that the more we are in the flow of creativity, the less we feel overwhelmed.  It is to give our minds, bodies and souls a break from life destroying thoughts.  The more you create, the more you think about what else you can create.

    And, lastly…(although I am not done yet….)

     

    "Choosing your Delusion"

    "Is this delusional?"

    "Is it delusional to me to place an infinite trust in a force that I cannot see, touch, or prove – a force that might not even actually exist?"

    "Okay, for the sake of argument, let's call it totally delusional."

    "But is it any more delusional than believing that only your suffering and pain are authentic? Or that you are alone – that you have no relationship whatsoever with the universe that created you? Or that you have been singled out by destiny as specifically cursed? Or that your talents were given to you for the mere purpose of destroying you?"

    "What I'm saying is this: If you're going to live your life based on delusions (and you are, because we all do), then why not at least select a delusion that is helpful?"

    "Allow me to suggest this one:"

    "The work wants to be made, and it wants to be made through you."

     

    I love this idea, that we can be plugged into a delusional stream…..and we may as well make it positive and one that is for us….not against us.  

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  • From Elizabeth Gilbert's book "Big Magic"….

    "A Trick"

    "So, yeah – here's a trick: Stop complaining."

    "Trust me on this. Trust Werner Herzog on this, too."

    "There are so many good reasons to stop complaining if you want to live a more creative life."

    " First of all, it's annoying. Every Artist complains, so its a dead and boring topic. (From the volume of complaints that emerges from the professional creative class, you would think these people had been sentenced to their vocations by an evil dictator, rather than having chosen their work with a free will and open heart.)"

    "Second, of course it's difficult to create things; if it wasn't difficult, everyone would be doing it, and it wouldn't be special or interesting."

    "Third, nobody ever really listens to anybody else's complaints, anyhow, because we're all too focused on our own holy struggle, so basically you're just talking to a brick wall."

    "Forth, and most important, you're scaring away inspiration.  Every time you express a complaint about how difficult and tiresome it is to be creative, inspiration takes another step away from you, offended.  It's almost like inspiration puts up hits hands and says, "Hey, sorry, buddy! I didn't realize my presence was such a drag. I'll take my business elsewhere."

    "I have felt this phenomenon in my own life, whiner I start complaining.  I have felt the way my self-pity slams the door on inspiration, making the room feel suddenly cold, small and empty.  That being the case, I took this path as a young person: I started telling myself that I enjoyed my work. I proclaimed that I enjoyed every single aspect of my creative endeavors- the agony and the ecstasy, the success and the failure, the joy and the embarrassment, the dry spells and the grind and the stumble and the confusion and the stupidity of it all."

    "I even dared to say this aloud."

    "I told the universe (and anyone who would listen) that I was committed to living a creative life not in order to save the world, not as an act of protest, not to become famous, not to gain entrance to the canon, not to challenge the system, not to show the bastards, not to prove to my family that I was worthy, not as a form of deep therapeutic emotional catharsis….but simply because I liked it."

    "Try saying this: "I enjoy my creativity."

    "And, when you say it, be sure you actually mean it."

    " For one thing, it will freak people out. I believe that enjoying your work with all your heart is the only truly subversive position let to take as a creative person these days.  It's such a gangster move, because hardly anybody ever dares to speak of creative enjoyment aloud, for fear of not being taken serious as an artist. So say it. Be the weirdo who dares to enjoy."

    "Best of all, though, by saying that you delight in your work, you will draw inspiration near. Inspiration will be grateful to hear these words coming out of your mouth, because inspiration – like all of us – appreciate being appreciated.  Inspiration will over hear your pleasure, and it will send ideas to your door as a reward for your enthusiasm and your loyalty."  

    "More ideas than you could ever use."

    "Enough ideas for ten lifetimes.      

    Elizabeth

     

    What I loved, while reading this, is that I am a gangster.  For I truly LOVE playing with my Art.  

    I love picking out fabrics, finding ones that surprise me, delight me, and make me feel inspired.   

    I love working to put fabrics together, waiting for the moment when it seems to click, when the right combinations work with each other.

    I love to see what art will unfold.

    I love to see, sometimes even months later….the depth and meaning that snuck in.

    I love to see others enjoy my work.

    I love when others don't see my work….too.

    I love it when I find art that inspires my own.

    I love how my creativity has changed and grown like its own entity.

    I truly LOVE creativity.

    Mine, and others.

    I love how inspiration is drawn to those who love it.  

    As it should be!

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    The dance of inspiration; begins with Love – moves with Love….

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    I love the flow of inspiration, the magic, the unknown, the uncertainty and surprises that arise, when you keep playing.

    It truly feels like you are playing with a part of the Universe, a playful mate, who comes and dares you to try this and that, and maybe some of this….if you are open and not working to do art.

    I know, that when I try, nothing happens….

    These delightful creative playmates only appear when I am knocking off, when I am escaping from work and life, and enter my studio like it is a playground.  

    When I slip away from my adult chores and being…

    I LOVE My Lady….her message, her designs, her ability to grab me from the seriousness of life, the pain and the struggle….to play and enjoy life.

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    Truly for me, Art is the opposite of work.  

     

     

     

     

  • It is so.

    On Evelyn's blog,

     http://travelingev.com/2015/10/repressed-memories-of-sexual-abuse/

    I was told I was "Insulting".  It came as a surprise; but not so much.

    I had to look up the word "Insult" to see if my intentions fit the definition.

    "Speak to or treat with disrespect – or scornful abuse.   To affect offensively or damagingly."

    The conversation is about sexual abuse within the FALC (First Apostolic Lutheran Church).

    How did I insult them?

    I am a past member.

    I was also victimized by sexual abuse while being a member.

    In my experiences, many (but not all) parishioners knew.

    No one contacted the police; upon knowing about a perpetrator (my father).

    My viewpoint is from here.

    And, it is insulting to (some) if not all, members.

    My 'sweeping' generalizations are affronting and off putting and are treated as false accusations.

    I have sat with this.

    They (most, but not all) don't like to be clumped together.

    So, I tried to see them as individuals; separately IN their beliefs.

    Trying to not lump them as one moving ameba.

    Here is what I know of their beliefs; for at one time I believed it to be so.

    Women are not allowed to;

    Use birth control

    Color their hair

    Paint their nails

    Wear make-up

    And, I am sure Tattoos are out.

    I lived by this ideology for 46 years.  The church (Beliefs) owned my body.  I believed it was a sin to do thee above.  It was many years after leaving the church that I realized I now owned my body.

    As far as I know; the women of the church still believe this to be true.

    Just this alone; makes them one.

    They all align themselves underneath these beliefs.

    Certainly there are other factors in their lives that are different….but, there are so many life controlling beliefs that create an image of being of one mind.

    To those who have had free will, where their bodies are concerned, this will seem madness.

    Another part of the belief system is controlling what the body does and where it goes….what is acceptable and what is not.

    I am guilty of seeing them as one large belief system, moving around under the control of consenting beliefs about their bodies and sins.

    So, not only are they told what they can and can't do with their bodies, they are also told where they can and cannot go.  Certainly, there are places that are neutral, but it is the idea, that they agree to being controlled.

    I know, that while under the spell of trying to remain sinless; they inadvertently become one.

    I am almost certain my sharing experiences of ill behavior was equally as insulting as making sweeping generalizations and keeping them in a group.

    I don't find that I am insulting them; but instead pointing out where they perhaps, are insulting themselves.

    I am not being disrespectful; but respecting their beliefs…and yet am told I am insulting them.

    I don't believe they know or are aware of their sameness and yet are.

    It is a sleight of hands…within their own minds.

    I literally tried to keep my end of the conversation about me and my experiences.  

    There is a saying about speaking and tossing paint out to see where it sticks.

    To me, those who rise rapidly in defense…the paint is sticking.

    My words struck a cord…somewhere.

    The second part of being told I insult folks was to look at what I was saying and how I could water it down to lessen the bite.

    Immediately, I felt that to make them appear kinder….would water down my experiences.  It would be to disrespect me; or insult my truths.

    Purposefully and for the sake of their 'comfort'.

    I won't.

    Here is the dilemma the members of this church (most) are facing.  If the truth about abuse and the lack of reporting etc are too insulting to hear….how can they change what they don't acknowledge?

    It appears they have no troubles finding fault in me, my delivery, my recounting, and the way I see most members.

    I am insulting; not that abuse within the church is.

    When faced with the challenges…I feel I have lost the battle.

    The battle being to have adults step up to help the children.

    What am I supposed to do or say, when they quickly attack the messenger.

    It stuns and amazes me the antics of the wily mind.

    Another part of the discussion that has me at a disadvantage, is that most; but not all, don't use their names.  Some a first name, many just their initial. 

    It is to be in a roomful of people who can see me; but I can only see a few, the rest have their faces blacked out.  I don't know to whom I am speaking or by whom I am being called insulting.

    This discussion, I feel doesn't even get to leave the gate…for it is stalled by their unwillingness to welcome the truth no matter how it walks through.

    I left it saying perhaps they need someone with a gentle kind manner to deliver the goods.

    But deep in my bones, I know it isn't me….personally.  It is what I am carrying.

    I made a quilt today.

    A Peace on Earth, Quilt….and before I could walk away….I felt the words were missing something.

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    They were. 

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    "To Me."

    "Peace on Earth to Me…."

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    If each of us were to keep peace inside of us; we would have a peaceful world.

    To do this for me, I must honor me.  

    My past

    My feelings

    My truth as I know it.

    How will watering it down save a child?

    How will making the church kinder and sweeter be of use….when, in my experience it isn't so.

    This is, what I believe they(many) are doing; in hopes that if they believe in the kindness of its members….abuse will walk away.

    Sadly, it isn't abuse that walks away. Abuse stays; while good intentioned people are not believed, called insulting…etc.

    You all are together within the church…who is in there with you?

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    Certainly, I who is on the outside….isn't doing the abuse inside.  The harm isn't coming from outside of this religion…

    It is inside…and I, on the outside, am trying to tell you it is so.

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • In Charge of Me.

    "Relax, you are not in charge" was the thought that arose in Yoga today…as my left hip joint felt like it was strung way way too tight.

    As I stayed in a posture, I could almost feel the constricted joint…and I asked the question while rubbing where it screamed in pain; what belief or thoughts is creating this?  What came was for me to relax for I wasn't in control.

    Instead, I could relax and let it be.

    I wasn't in charge of anyone but me.

    I don't know, if there ever was a time that I felt this to the DNA of Me….this letting go of being in charge.

    As I write this, I also know that those of us who were abused, need this facade in place so not to see/feel/hear the trauma of abuse. We need this false sense of being in control in an otherwise uncontrolled environment.

    If we keep us in charge; than the world will not go to hell in hand basket.  

    In our minds we need to believe we are in control in an out of control world.

    So we stay in control of everything.

    We hold ourselves accountable for things we can no way control.

    This ridiculous belief that saved me from feeling out of control has now outlived its use.

    Relax, you are not in charge.

    If their world falls apart….it does.  If all hell breaks loose, oh well.  Like I actually was making any headway in anyone's life anyway.  They all were going merrily on their way….while I felt in charge of them.

    In charge, so not to see the mess beneath.  I used my mind to work at taking charge instead of seeing them out of control.

    It actually was the sleight of hands…for I would see them as they were about to plunge and try to save them; for I was in charge IF they fall.

    Relax, you are not in charge.

    You didn't put them on the precipice…nor are you the one that sends them over.

    My hand in their lives…has been withdrawn.

    My hand that felt the need to save…to pull them back, to be in charge.

    Relax and let them go.  For going is what they want most.  It is the pull of their journey that tugs them.

    This will be my new mantra…when I feel the urge to control or be responsible.

    "Relax, you are not in charge…."

    I now can be okay when life falls apart….for I wasn't in charge.  

    Journeys will flow, ebb and change…at their free will.

    I love that I am not in charge…I feel the energy of being set free.

    Relax…relax, relax.

    I believe, I never felt that someone was in charge.

    And, took the empty seat.

    I am now getting up and walking into my life; alone.

    I want to just be in charge of me!

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