Quarantine

I’m not feeling so great. I’m sick in my head, my heart, and my body. I know the sneezing, coughing and achiness are all manifestations of stress and poor diet and sleep choices. So I’m going to try to kick back and relax for a little while. It’s just a bummer as I was trying to schedule playdates for myself and my son. You see, last winter here in Chicago was horrible for me. It was dark. It was unbearably cold. I felt trapped, lonely and subsequently depressed.

Just thinking about the winter here makes me depressed. I know that getting out of the apartment on a frequent basis helps me combat the cabin fever, but, let’s face it. The likelihood of me bundling up two small children, walking them down 3 flights of stairs and into -20 degree weather, scraping snow and ice off the windows just to see people that I only kinda like. . . Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen.

Yesterday I had one of those days where I just didn’t want to “be”. I didn’t want to exist. Weary, tired of this life and not wanting to deal with it. I just wanted to go to sleep for a very long time. Don’t worry. I’m not suicidal, just really tired.

Let’s do it again

So this is the end of The Artist’s Way. I learned so much about myself: my fears, my true desires and wishes, what kinds of things are important to me, why I continue to stay blocked as an artist. But I don’t feel like the journey through the book is complete. So, I’m going to do the last task of this last chapter and “[r]eread this book. Share it with a friend.”

Last week my best friend of 10 years told me that she wanted to be a writer. How, in all this time did we never know that we both had the same dream? No wonder we’re such kindred spirits! We decided to share The Artist’s Way experience, so sometime within the next few weeks I will begin it again. I hope to gain even more insight the second time through.

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I have read about 30 different self-help books, on all kinds of topics, and yet I still haven’t figured out how to. . . well, help my self. I wonder at what point I need to stop reading and just start doing?

Not Myself

Suppose I said
I am on my best behavior
there are times
I lose my worried mind

Would you want me when I’m not myself?
Wait it out while I am someone else?

Suppose I said
Colors change for no good reason
words will go
From poetry to prose

Would you want me when I’m not myself?
Wait it out while I am someone else?

And I, in time, will come around, come around
I always do for you

Suppose I said
You’re my saving grace?

My grace
My self
Not myself, my myself and I…
When I’m someone else
When I’m someone else
When I’m someone else
When I’m not myself
Myself
Myself

I surrender

sur-ren-der 5. To give over or resign (oneself) to something, as to an emotion: surrendered himself to grief.
(courtesy of www.thefreedictionary.com)

“The creative process is a process of surrender, not control.”

As I re-read Week 12 (Recovering a Sense of Faith) in The Artist’s Way, this quote really jumped out at me. Yesterday morning I thought about giving up on NaNoWriMo. By the afternoon I was completely convinced that I was done with it–I even told my best friend that I was. But as I mulled over my thoughts–and this quote–I realized that I was sabotaging my self.

I thought that I couldn’t handle all the rawness of emotion that certain memories brought up. I thought that it was the emotions that were blocking my creativity. However, it was not the emotions themselves. No, it was my desire to control these emotions, my desire to not feel these emotions. But in order to heal, I have to allow myself to feel them–I need to surrender to them. After all, a lot of the suffering I experience now is because I never allowed myself to surrender.

And then the encouraging comments from these women. . . well, they were just what I needed to hear. Before I went to bed I decided that I’ll give it another try. I have 25 days. Let’s see what happens.

Fragile Ego

I can feel myself cycling again and I’m pretty upset about it. However, this time I think it was my own actions that brought it on.

I have been very excited about NaNoWriMo for a while now and felt so certain about the story (or stories) I wanted to share. I wanted to focus on events that occured over 3 of my most difficult years because I knew that I needed to heal; I felt like the only way to fully heal would be to write about them and share them. (I can’t figure out for the life of me why through 6 years of therapy I never shared the complete truth.) But in remembering all of these things. . . I became blocked. The emotions that resurfaced were stronger than I expected and I quickly abandoned both attempts.

So not only am I depressed from the memories, but now I’m depressed because I feel like I am failing at this goal, this dream of becoming a writer. I’m going to keep fighting though; November has 30 days and we’re only on day 3. I can still make a little magic happen in the remaining 27.

Tuesday’s Thoughts

From The Artist’s Way, Week 12: Recovering a Sense of Faith

“The truth is that we are meant to be bountiful and live.”

“You’re either losing you rmind–or gaining your soul.”

Signs

At the end of each chapter in The Artist’s Way, Cameron asks you to document any synchronicity that you’ve noticed that week.

This is the end of Week 11: Recovering a Sense of Autonomy. Though I didn’t find any synchronicity specifically related to the tasks I worked on for this chapter, there were many things that just clicked for me this week.

This November (oh my gosh, that’s tomorrow) I decided to participate in National Novel Writing Month. I have always wanted to be a writer and this is a chance for me to sit down and commit to making a dream come true. Well, for most of October I struggled with ideas for plot. My mind just seemed blocked. In order to keep the promises I made to myself, I started doing a yoga dvd in the mornings. All of a sudden thoughts seemed to flow more freely.

I didn’t know if I should write more of a memoir, creating a story based on real events from my life or if I should just create something completely fictional. In the mail we got a Costco magazine. Normally I never, ever, ever read it. But on this particular day I did. And in it: an article about how to write a memoir. Ding, ding, ding! Write what you know.

Then I struggled with which tense to use: first person or third person? Present or past? I flipped through my husband’s Sports Illustrated and it happened to have an excerpt from Andre Agassi’s new autobiography. It was written in first person present and it was horrible! Ding, ding, ding! First person present is hard to do and can be annoying to read.

All of this literally happened in the three days leading up to NaNoWriMo, when I almost thought I should give up because I was completely blank. Oh, but the universe has great plans for me! I’m off to get some rest before the madness begins.

Let the madness begin

At midnight tonight National Novel Writing Month commences. I am sooooo extremely excited!

Bye-bye Pops

My father-in-law passed away yesterday morning. Very odd to see a dead body like that. I’d like to remember him this way:

Pops and my son circa March 2008

Yoga, baby and toddler don’t mix

It is incredibly difficult to focus on Vrksasana with a toddler banging his cars into your thighs and a newborn fussing in the background due to a lost pacifier. Sigh. Maybe someday soon I’ll have the opportunity and time to practice yoga again–alone.