Tag: self

  • From the Cocoon!

    The Artist’s Way, while it is inspiring for Art, it is also bringing forth an artful self.  It is finding the dark spots where we lost the art of living, the art of being, the art of individuality, where we conformed into roles that are in direct competition to being a creation from self.

     

    A self that lives behind the roles.

     

    A self we set aside years ago for a variety of reasons.

     

    This is the self we will find if we continue on The Artist’s Way…the path leads to self.

     

    I have been disrobing from roles that made up most of who I was, and underneath was a girl who I didn’t know.  It is this girl who has been struggling to come alive, against the adverse conditioned mind.

     

    This conditioned mind puts fear, guilt and shame along my pathway, sprinkled with false claims of a gloomy future, IF I dare make a new choice, explore and discover a new way of living.

     

    I have been jousting with this mind for 6 ½ years now, seeing which one of us will win at each turn.  Even having the fight is a great improvement to the capitulations of the past, where I didn’t even to fight.

     

    Now I have two separated ideals/beliefs/thoughts and desires vying for the chance to live as me.

     

    I feel a huge percentage of me is now onboard with the self and just fragments and pieces of me are still tangled up with the mental mind. 

     

    The Artist’s Way is working to unhinge those parts as well as strengthen and ignite the ones already free!

     

    I feel a huge part of me is flowing with the energy from the field of Art and pure potential, unlocked from the constraints of the mind.

     

    Like a butterfly almost cleared from the cocoon!

  • Keep Me Down

    As I did my yoga after work, a frivolous task I labeled it, since I opted to do this instead of a domestic chore or something of a higher priority, I just went ahead and took the liberties of time for my self without thinking too deeply…just quickly changed and started the CD, before a list of other things jostled this idea out of my head.

     

    Even calling it frivolous seemed odd, but yet right, that I was cheating responsibility and jumping into frivolous. 

    While in yoga I pondered this word and what it meant to me and how it was that I called doing something that was good for me frivolous. 

    The yoga that I do is very hard and requires my utmost attention, it is working very hard to restore my body to great health, and I called it frivolous. 

    It then came to me; it wasn’t the yoga that was frivolous, but the usage of time.  I was using time frivolously by taking care of myself. 

     I then felt deep sorrow at a girl who thought it frivolous to care for her self, to be with herself doing something that benefits her greatly, and she feels its frivolous.

     I looked up the meaning of frivolous to make sure that I had it right.

     

    1.                     not worth taking seriously: lacking in intellectual substance and not worth serious consideration.

     

    This is exactly the meaning I had in mind, I was not worth taking seriously or with serious consideration.

    I know that this has been my greatest negative pull that seems to be tied by a rope of great width, that keeps holding me down, a belief that is strung through each of my cells.

    I have claimed that my biggest hurdle is that I am too responsible, and yet what is more true, is that I am not worth taking seriously or using serious consideration.

    I take life and others needs very seriously, but my own are considered frivolous not serious.

    I felt pushed upon the mat by the sorrow of understanding, that it isn’t the things that are frivolous, but that I am not worth having them.

    My world is very short of frivolous, from the time I spend, to the items I pass by, for I can’t drum up a reason to bring them in.

    Flipping frivolous to serious has been a long six years struggle, to upend this belief and get me into serious consideration.

    Even though I have been serving me lots of time, big chunks in a day to be used for just me; from writing, to yoga, to art, and blogging, to unraveling my past.  I have been yanking and pulling on this ‘frivolous’ thread, kinda sorta believing it  was serious work, while not completely sold.

    The tables turned today, I can see that what I have been doing is putting my self on the list for serious consideration going against generations of voices that have been trying to keep me down.

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  • Paying Attention to each part of me.

    In the Sun Magazine they have a section where they give a word or two and you write about it. This month it was called Paying Attention.

     “Whenever my husband talks to his mother, brother or sister – on the phone or in person he sits down. This irritates me because I wish he would multi-task.  It also makes me jealous because I wish I came from a family of people who gave each other their full attention.”

     “My father traveled a lot on business and left the raising of my sisters and me to our mother.  A consummate multi-tasker, she’d pack meat for the freezer while helping one of us compose a school report.  In the middle of talking to us, she’d trail off: “Get me the…” The radio or TV was usually on, tuned into a talk show…”        Gigi Maniscalchi Edwards

     

    Paying attention to me meant if you could keep all the things going, you were paying attention.  Little did I know that I wasn’t paying attention to any of them, but just snagging bits and pieces of each.

     This fragmented view of life is what I was raised with, your focus was never fully intent on one item, behind each thing you were doing, was a background noise of a half a dozen more.

     In a large family there is always something going on or something to be done, there never seemed the time to stop and pay attention.

     Even as I raised my own children, I didn’t stop to pay attention fully and intently on each child and their conversation…I was juggling too many items in each moment of time.

    I am getting better at paying attention and focusing on one task at a time, and I can feel my body get anxious when there is too many things going on at once.  And I feel the distracted attention when speaking to someone who is doing things while we talk. 

    I prefer the game of one on one, where there is only one ball in the air at a time. 

    How sad for my children to be tossed in the air with dishes, clothes, cooking, and things; where my fragment attention was all they ever got. 

    My self was one of the things that got lost in the shuffle as well, and I have been learning to slow life down to now start paying attention to each part of me.

     Here is another writing on attention  that caught mine…

    “The other graduate students and I at the University of North Dakota drank a lot of coffee.  Whoever drained the last few drops from the thirty-five cup coffee maker would discard the used grounds and, using a long handle brush that we found on the wall in men’s restroom, scrub the inside of the percolator.

     

    We were satisfied with how this system was working until the day someone saw the janitor cleaning urinals with the brush.”     Lowell Wandke

     

     

     

  • Growing Lifeless.

    It seems that there is a side of change that continues to catch me off guard, while I eagerly lean towards growth and transformation, I fail to see I am outgrowing friends.

     

    My flippant quote that I clung to was, “Birds of a feather flock together…”  I just failed to appreciate that in changing the colors of my feathers, I would no longer feel drawn to being with certain people and then have to seek new feathers that matched the new me.

     

    There should be a warning label on all the self-realization books, that by becoming more aware, more truthful, more in alignment with your soul’s purpose, you may lose friends if they are not on the same journey.

     

    You arrive to the same group or have lunch with an old friend only to find you don’t sway to the same tune, that your music is no longer in sync…you both feel it and perhaps try and not notice, but eventually the ‘meetings’ become less and less attractive.

     

    We are attracted to similar energies and if our energies rise and theirs remain the same, the growing apart naturally takes place, you don’t have to orchestrate it, facilitate it, you just have to honor it.

     

    What I have failed to consider each time I get a great hit of new insights and understandings, when I burst forth in a new way, that I leave behind my old energy patterns which match my friends.

     

    I also believe that many are stopped on the journey towards living a full spiritual soulful life, is that it may mean leaving behind relationships of long standing.

     

    What I also have great confidence in is that many friendships are like a curvy path; we meet and go away only to meet again, for we are all heading in the same direction, but at our own pace.

     

    So I don’t see the leaving as in forever, but that our journeys are set at a different speed.

     

    What I need most is to pay attention to what I need, what excites me and makes me come alive…it serves no one to sit and idle growing lifeless.

     

  • Cultivate the Art of Play

    In reading chapter 5 in The Artist’s Way, Recovering A Sense of Possibility, she speaks of being self-destructive, and yet she isn’t talking about what we usually think of self-destructive behavior.

     

    We usually think of drugs, alcohol, abusive type behaviors, but never just being nice or being good.

     

    That is the self-destructive behavior that I struggle against. 

     

    Julia Cameron writes.

     

    “A young father with a serious interest in photography, years for a place in the home to pursue his interest. The installation of a modest darkroom would require dipping into savings and deferring the purchase of a new couch. The darkroom doesn’t get set up but the new couch does.”

     

    “Many recovering creatives sabotage themselves most frequently by being nice. There is a tremendous cost to such ersatz virtue.”

     

    “Many of us have made a virtue out of deprivation. We have embraced a long-suffering artistic anorexia as a martyr’s cross.  We have used it to feed a false sense of spirituality grounded in being good, meaning superior.”

     

    “ I call this seductive, faux spirituality the Virtue Trap. Spirituality has often been misused as a route to an unloving solitude, a stance where we proclaim ourselves above our human nature.  This spiritual superiority is really only one more form of denial. For an artist, virtue can be deadly. The urge toward respectability and maturity can be stultifying, even fatal.”

     

    “ We strive to be good, to be nice, to be helpful, to be unselfish. We want to be generous, of service, of the world. But what we really want is to be left alone.  When we can’t get others to leave us alone, we eventually abandon ourselves. To others, we may look like we’re here. We may act like we’re there. But our true self has gone to ground.”

     

    “What’s left is the shell of our whole self. It stays because it is caught.  Like a listless circus animal prodded into performing, it does tricks. It goes through the routine.  It earns its applause.  But all of the hoopla falls on deaf ears. We are dead to it. Our artist is not merely out of sorts.  Our artist has checked out. Our life is now an out of body experience. We’ve gone. A clinician might call it disassociating. I call it leaving the scene of the crime.”

     

    “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” we wheedle, but our creative self no longer trusts us. Why should it?  We sold it out.”

     

    “Afraid to appear selfish, we lose our self. We become self-destructive.  Because this self-murder is something we seek passively rather than consciously act out, we are often blind to its poisonous grip on us.”

     

    “The question “are you self-destructive?” is asked so frequently that we seldom hear it accurately.  What it means is Are you destructive of your self? And what that really ask us is Are you destructive of your true nature?”     Julia

     

    What I had known was that I left myself behind to take care of and be responsible for others, leaving my needs alone on an island far far from my awareness and I called this being a good girl.

     

    I would not have called this behavior as being self destructive, but I had the experience of waking up at 46 shocked that I was no where to be found.

     

    Now, 6 years later I am much more conscious of a self, my self, and in the past few years begun taking care of her in ways that I had never done before.

     

    I am learning to let go of the responsibility and care for others or at least balance it out between self care and other care.

     

    I am not completely there, but now have an eye on me.

     

    The Artist’s Way is to bring more attention to this self, to bring her right up in front and out in the open, to display her and showcase her in your life and be the main Feature and not the sideshow.

     

    It is wildly exciting and intimidating and it feels strange to dive into thoughts, ideas, dreams and experiences that have been long forgotten…and a part of me wonders and doubts, while another part feels the forbidden fruits I am reaching for.

     

    Dare I reach and grab onto things that only I want?

    Dare I consider only my self?

     

    I can feel the long forgotten parts of me ready to awaken, but unsure if they should trust? 

     

    Like a see saw between coming alive and staying comfortably dead…my spirit hangs in the balance.

     

    What seems to be shocking even to me is that I was able to stand by my self through out the revelation of my father’s abuse and the aftermath, that I was able to find a strong voice and a steady stance… but doing frivolously artful living seems like a luxury.

     

    Finding a self in the sea of abuse and taking care of my self as I unraveled seems like an honorable thing, but to just do fun things, artful things, things that make me come alive and tickle me, seems so careless or playful.

     

    And sadly being care less or play full is not what I know how to do.

     

    I don’t know how to play.

     

    I don’t know how to do frivolous things.

     

    Imagine I need to learn how to play.

     

    My self doesn’t know play.

     

    My self isn’t a natural player.

     

    I will have to cultivate the Art of Play.

     

  • Half Dead

    There are two ways to look at relationships and what is defined as kind or unconditional will depend on which side you are standing upon.

     

    Most of my old relationships had the relationship as the ruler and I as its servant. 

     

    Now I arrive in each relationship as the ruler and the relationship serves me or doesn’t.

     

    In the past, I was a martyr in relationships.

     

    I looked up the meaning of Martyr.

     

    1.                   somebody put to death: somebody who chooses to die rather than deny a strongly held belief, especially a religious belief

    2.                     somebody who makes sacrifices: somebody who makes sacrifices or suffers greatly in order to advance a cause or principle. 

     

     Wow, is that right on or what.  I definitely was a martyr in my relationships…I made sacrifices of my self, my feelings and my truth to remain in relationships.  I suffered greatly to advance the cause…the family.

    I may not be adequately framing this, but in my old relationships it required me to be dead in order for me to be there.

     

    An aware, alive and responding me shattered the relationship.  I no longer suffered for the cause.

    It was kind to the relationship for me to remain dead and unresponsive, yet very unkind to me.  I have now reversed that order.

    I also feel that a thriving whole relationship requires two alive people…

    Otherwise it is half dead.

     

     

     

     

  • The Responsibility lies within you.

    In the past week, I have heard two different ladies tell me that God wants them to be kind to people who are not kind to them…that being kind to unkind people is pleasing to God.

     

    Both say, it isn’t what they would do, but they truly feel this is what God wants them to do.  So to please God they act differently than how they feel.

     

    They put on a God Smilely Face, when inside they are feeling quite the opposite and believe this is what God wants them to do.  God likes them to be fake.

     

    I find this very interesting and quite unsettling that they, when they find themselves in a spot of where their real feelings would have them move away, that they instead put on a smile and blame it on God.  He wants me to do this…

     

    What kind of God is that, I asked?  I am sorry, but the God I know, would not want me to be fake nor have me be with folks who are unkind… For Him.

     

    To which I am met with silence.

     

    Oddly enough by blaming God and ‘acting’ in a manner you assume he appreciates, leaves you without having to make a tough choice.

     

    It leaves you not having to move, nor speaking up or presenting your inner truths.

     

    In fact Martha Beck in this months O Magazine, wrote about the problem with asking “What would Love do”…for many of us have the wrong definition of love.

     

    I would say the same of God.  What would God do, usually is what you feel is your highest option.

     

    And if your highest option is to be fake, I am uncertain who you are.

     

    Again, it leaves me wordless and shaking my head…to hear these adult women having to be false, to be unable to walk their own truths, to present their own feelings and move away.

     

    They stay to please God. 

     

    In fact one lady told me this was the meaning of ‘unconditional love’ to remain kind no matter what.

     

    I told her I have found that this is the meaning of abuse.

     

    That if you are unable to make a choice, to turn around, to leave, to speak your truths …you remain a victim.

     

    And the God I know would not want me to be without free will.

     

    It is easier to blame God and plaster on fake kindness than it is for them to face them and say what they truly feel.

     

    Instead of holding God responsible for your acting inauthentic, the responsibility lies within you.

     

     

  • My own formation.

    In the past six years I have been learning new software, my body functions the same, it just responds differently.

     

    My arms move, my mouth speaks, my brain thinks yet they are doing things completely in a new way.

     

    It is like waking up one day and your body refuses to do what it used to do; the inner driving force has switched gears completely, it is all backwards.

     

    This new software has me moving in the opposite direction of my old flying formation, I go right and others move left, I go up and the others go down, I feel totally out of zinc.

     

    I am the lady in a country line dancing row… three steps off.

     

    It seems I didn’t have a slow software exchange, but one day a whole complete system was inside of me.

     

    Like a new me hopped inside and began living my life while still in my old life.

     

    I have to give credit to my husband and children for being able to bring this new me into their old lives, to welcome and get used to her new ways.

     

    As we go forth there will still be more steps I will take that will be out of rhythm with theirs, and we falter and then get used to this unique dance of ours.  Me going one way and them going another in harmony.

     

    We are dancing to the same song but moving with our own rhythm.

    I often feel like the odd duck, but oddly a very free duck.  I fly in my own formation. 

     

  • The soul that lies beneath.

    Julia Cameron writes in The Artist’s Way…

     

    ”Conditioned as we are to accept other people’s definition of us, this emerging individuality can seem to us like a self-will run riot.  It is not. The snowflake pattern of your soul is emerging. Each of us is a unique, creative individual. But we often blur that uniqueness with sugar, alcohol, drugs, overwork, underplay, bad relations, toxic sex, underexercise, over-TV, undersleep – many and varied forms of junk food for the soul…”

     

    I have never thought of overeating or any of the above as being junk food for the soul. That most of the things that are bad for the body is also bad for our souls.

     

    They blur our uniqueness, keep us living in with a fuzzy image of who we are, what we want, what we feel and where we heading, and above all, make it hard for the soul to shine through.

     

    In fact all the bad habits keep the soul from shining through and yet we believe we need these habits, we literally crave them, and what they are is a black out curtain for the soul.

     

    It is odd to me that we crave what keeps us from being our whole soulful self, and that we want the stuff that darkens who we are.

     

    Perhaps we want to darken our reality.

     

    We want to shut the shades on what is in order to survive…instead of taking actions to remove ourselves from situations in real life, we drape a curtain so we don’t have to see.

     

    It is amazing to me that we become so accustomed to living a life with a darkened drape, that we have no idea how to live a life without them.

     

    Julia Cameron is gently telling us what stands in the way from being you. What items we do to not be alive, aware and unique.

     

    By removing the junk food from our lives we can see what they were covering up.  The more we crave and hold on to things that are not good for our souls, the more chances there is big stuff we are not wanting to see, feel or respond to.

     

    For me, my big mess was revealed first.  I saw a whole life that I had no clue was going on underneath my dark curtain of denial, of self-numbing or fuzzy blurring of reality, and I then had to start eliminating things that contributed to the blanket of dysfunction.

     

    This blanket of dysfunction lived my life for 46 years, a thick layer of stuff that my soul was unable to shine forth through.

     

    It is surprising the difference between living as the dark curtain or the soul that lies beneath. 

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    This is one of my first quilts after the revealation of my big mess….and you can see the sliver of gold, which is the soul trying to emerge.  I called this the Soul Lost.  I now have a better understanding of this quilt 6 years or more later!

  • When I am 80.

    My writing assignment was to write a letter from my eight-year-old self to my adult self, and I sat there blank.  I could not figure out what the little girl needed to tell me.

     

    So, I went and did my morning yoga session. And it came to me that if I look at her sitting within a family of dysfunction and her seeing her older self having escaped, that perhaps then there would be lots to say.

     

    My little self would look upon this adult woman and admire the strength it took for her to walk the walk needed to walk the walk to get her out of the situation of her childhood and to now be working on becoming more artful self.

     

    She at 8 could look upon me where I stand today and be so grateful that I was able to circle back and regain the ownership and awareness of her soul. 

     

    That I was able to traverse the wild churning waters of abuse and arrive seemingly unscathed and actually prospering as an adult woman, she would be amazed at my ability to withstand the truth and then to make new choices based upon it.

     

    She would be so grateful that I am no longer in abusive relationships or that I am still being victimized, that I have learned how to do self care, to speak for my self and have the strength to follow through.

     

    She would breath a sigh of relief to know that we survived and are now heading into an even brighter future, where I am honing my self-awareness with yoga and The Artist’s Way, that we are on the pathway of self-loving.

    At times I too find it hard to see the distance I traveled and the depth and breath of change that my life has withstood…I stand with my little girl in awe of where we have been and sit in gratitude we not only survived but also are thriving.

     

    What brings me the most peace is that I can look straight into my little girl’s eyes and feel proud and wise and strong, and not have to look away in shame and guilt.

     

    I feel so strongly confident that we are on the right path, and that when I am 80; I will look upon this 52-year-old self the same way.

     

    And in fact there is a writing assignment to write a letter from your 80-year-old self to your 50-year-old self.

     

    I found that much easier, for I was telling me what the Artist’s Way is teaching me, to be more artful, more daring, more wild in learning new things and experimenting, to go out and grasp all the delights the world has to offer, to change your routine, to add some spice and thrill, to toss in colorful experiences…

     

    I want to be at 80, what I am today, but more of it. 

     

    I want to look backwards at the next 30 years and be breathless at what I did!

     

    Each Artist’s date is adding to the list of things that will blow my mind as I look back when I am 80.