Cultivating my inner artist
Hi, it’s been a while. I took a hiatus from writing for a time, pulled away by my career, my family, and other distractions. I am now in a season of intense change and perhaps even more so, uncertainty, in my life. I have a new little one who just came into the world, and I am winding down in my current job. There may be a fork in the road ahead of me, and I can go left or I can turn right. Until I get much closer to it, I won’t know my direction. I see there are options ahead of me, but I am not nearly close enough to make the choice yet.
Unlike other times in my life, I am not anxious to pick the way. I want to be in the experience of uncertainty. I want to avoid jumping at the first plan in order to gain comfort and stability right away. I know there is no easy “fix” to what is next. Without all the tasks and stress of my job, I find that I have more time to sit with myself and my thoughts. Sitting at my desk the other day, a blue jay landed on the branch outside my window. He was the most striking brilliant blue. He had a mohawk in the middle of his head. In that split second, he was gone again almost as if I had conjured him in my imagination. When I pay attention, I have little moments of wonder.
I am cultivating my inner artist. It’s deeply personal work. I’m writing every day with no real goal in mind other than to write. It’s me, my thoughts, and the page before me. It’s all too easy for me to avoid my self and attempt to manage everyone else. I am taking a little reset. I am paying attention. I am avoiding the default of “I am okay.” I’m noticing when I am numb, happy, content, worried, overwhelmed, upset, or resentful.
I get up each day. In the course of the morning, I write. Stream of consciousness. Just me and my thoughts. Later in the day, I may go back to other writing projects I have started. I am baking and cooking and trying new recipes. I am drawing and coloring. I am looking at photos. I am pulling out quilts I made and childhood artwork. I am sitting with memories from long ago, remembering things I haven’t thought of in years. I am cleaning the baseboards. I am pushing my baby boy up the giant hill by our house, rebuilding the strength in my body. I load the dishwasher, unload the dishwasher and clean off the kitchen table. I finish the day with writing while I lay in bed just before turning off the light. Some days are easy and the words just flow. Other days I want to kick and scream before I go anywhere near the page.
I’ll be back again soon. Be well. I hope you all connect in some way with your own inner artist this week.