Dirt Trail Check-In: "Just An Old Fashioned Love Song"

I watered my hardened clay today, to prepare it for work in the days to come.
That took everything I had in me.

As far as my check-in goes for my "Heart" focus, this describes pretty much how every day has gone this week.  I don't know if it's ready to be fully open, but it's putting in the effort to soften.

I crossed the threshold of the studio where my heart lives, and nothing was too far gone to salvage.

I like to imagine my clay singing now, as it soaks into the first stage of reconstituted, new life.

This song was written for me and clay!  Till death do us part, and even then, I'm not so sure it's over. 

Tuesday Tunes Day, "What Your Soul Sings" by Massive Attack

Listening to all that is inside my heart isn't always so easy.  My heart carries massive hurt.  So, I can appreciate the simplicity in "What Your Soul Sings" by Massive Attack.

That said, this song is exceptionally simple, and the work of healing the pain in my heart tonight hasn't left me with the brain power to analyze all the different connections and interpretations I see in it.  

I am moving forward with this selection because I connect with what I believe the basic intention of it is...
The message to choose joy for yourself everyday, discovering love, and gaining trust, connection and freedom from shame through that journey.  

Also noteworthy...when I was inpatient on a trauma unit for a month in 2007, Massive Attack was one of only a few bands I had on CD to drift into peace with, using my headphones.

Music matters.

***

Massive Attack is also a band that has used their art and influence for advocacy and activism for different causes.  Regardless of which causes Massive Attack has rallied for, I believe in the power of art as a force for change for individuals,  communities, and the world.   

About this week's Tuesday Tune:
Massive Attack Official Website
Massive Attack-Wikipedia
Massive Attack-Facebook
Reveiw of 2016 Performance

"What Your Soul Sings" lyrics

Dirt Trail Weekly Focus: "Heart"

OPENING MY HEART
Focus Topic: Heart Week!

What's it like to approach your own heart?
Have you ever asked your heart out on a date?

***

Time, peacefully spent amongst people filled with generosity and passion about something I have artistic roots in,  at the clay conference last week, unearthed a layer deep inside where my heart lives.

I reconnected with the language the light of clay speaks, in my heart. 

It opened up new thoughts and feelings in me that felt like obvious, ancient artifacts, yet came out dripping with slip-like freshness.

It reconnected me to wise clay roots inside myself, while nurturing new seeds I didn't even know had fallen nearby.

I started to feel my heart beat again.
A flow of visions about what life can be is coursing through me in a "build it and they will come" experience.
 

(This clip says "...He will come..." but in the original 1980 version it says "THEY will come" !)

Thoughts and feelings are stirring together about Kindness and Clay, and all the ways this can be shared and expressed through art and craft.
But, specifically, I'm thinking Kindness in the form of a cup....
I can feel  realness in this combination, like the moments I close my eyes and sculpt a handle or the rim of a cup, feeling the solid edges of every soul born and died.

It might sound ungrounded and esoteric.  I assure you it's not.

 The core of experiences like these are they are always about a presence more than yourself, and they live in us all, if we are willing and wait.   I can't explain, or make myself encounter it.  The Great Unknown blatantly gives me direction, and scores my movement.

***


It's time to open my heart.

The judgements are beginning to fall away.

The voices saying...
"You can't do anything worth anything."
"You're wicked and miserable trash."
"Nobody likes you."
...are shriveling.

In place of my urge to hide away, I have an overwhelming drive to put myself out there, and give.
Even if I'm not perfect.   Even if everything is new.  Even if I don't know what's ahead.  Even if it means I could get hurt in the process.

I think I might know what has changed...

My vision is not just about me anymore.
So it's not about those voices either.

I feel more able, because there is so much more life and light surrounding me.

The old tapes can't keep me locked up where they want me.
They have no power.

***

Last week, I went to a Coinstar location and turned in all the change I've saved over the last 10 years.
I'd been saving it for a rainy day.  It wasn't rainy last week, but it was time to cash in stored up change.
I chose to be credited with an Amazon.com card so I could keep all the funds instead of paying an 10.9% processing

Soon to arrive from Amazon to my doorstep are:
Craftivism: The Art and Craft of Activism
Art Therapy & Social Action: Treating the World's Wounds
and
Beginner's Guide to Community Based Arts

In addition, I've sought individual engagement by recently joining a group of other journey-minded souls to work together toward personal and creative healing in a process called La Chispa. More on this in the coming days! 

***


Fueled by kindness, love, loving-kindness, care....HEART.

I hope for all people to be surrounded by, and know within themselves the True Heart of All.
This week, and every after, I commit to nurturing these qualities in my body, mind and soul.

Here, there is Trust.
Shame cannot survive.
Confidence directs.

I am open to to intimately healing, through heaven and earth.
I grieve cruelty, and can no longer comprehend abuse.

"I was born to love.
I'm going to learn to love without fear."

Dirt Trail Daily: "Self-Care Week" Wrap-up

Fridays are designated "Weekly Wrap-Up" days, but this week ends in an open hand to life.

 I sense something more is coming.  

I've found myself taking self-care to heart.
I like me a lot better under the influence of kindness.

It guides me into creation.
I can't wait to see where this leads in the studio.

Kindness is a doing word.  
It is less conceptual than "self-love."
A person can have loving thoughts, and still treat themselves horribly.
Kindness means being kind.  
It's closer to grace.

***

I've just gotten started with Self-Care.
There's a lot left to go.  That's the most exciting thing.
The future feels like clay in my hands.

Transforming, and being transformed.
Alive and well in this world. 

More to come.
 

Dirt Trail Story Day: "Wordless"

Today's 6-Word Story: 

"So many words, there are none."

***

Today, something like a song is the song.

Dirt Trail Check-In: "Self-Care" Care

Dear fellow Renegades, 

(I'm liking how we've transformed into Renegades now.  How are you feeling about this?)

Sometimes self-care can be exceptionally exhausting.  

It goes along with other things like recovery, healing, and growth, that while needed and craved for, can, by the end of the day, also lay you out.

Today's self-care focus was spent on a date with myself at NCECA's (National Council on Education for the Ceramic Arts)  annual clay conference. I even wooed myself with an early birthday present; a clay mug from Missy Steele  (and you can find her here too!) It jumped right into my hand.  I had to bring it home.  

It might have appealed to me because it has the words "fight for it" engraved into it, arrows, and a lady giving "the finger," but relatively discreetly, I might add, even if she was only wearing lingerie.  

I don't know what the total intended message was, but I connected with "fight for it" because I saw that first, and then explored the rest of the mug. The "bird" is what sold it! ha!

I find the the phrase, "Fuck It!" to be magic words on this trail. So, the design had a good hook for me.

Sometimes I feel that way.   I'm not sure what "that way" is, in words.  That's why there are hand gestures on mugs for it, anyway, right?  Words aren't always necessary.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.
Self-care can leave you in need of even more self-care.
It takes effort.

Going to a big conference downtown, in a place I'm not familiar with, was overwhelming.  But I signed up for it months ago because, obviously, I wanted to be there.  I've wanted to attend this conference for years, but couldn't afford it until I ended up lucky enough to have it held in my hometown.  

Still, I wanted to break down and cry for at least the entire first hour I was there.  
I just wasn't feeling it this morning.  
I was tired, emotionally fragile from recent work I've put into recovering from deep trauma in my life, and in general, feeling small.  This morning, I hadn't yet come out on the other side where I feel badass, like I can take on the world.

Imagine a 4 year old walking around downtown, alone and unassisted.
That was me on the inside.

So, maybe that's why I gravitated toward the mug I ended up with, out of 100's of far milder versions available, today?
I needed some inspiration toward connecting with my inner badass.
And I found it!

I skipped away (figuratively, not literally, my back is still a wreck!) with a higher kick to my step after that purchase.

The rest of the day was nothing ventured-nothing gained.
I said "F-it" and went forward, anyway.
I had to fight for it.
The "it" today was confidence, connection, and healing.
And, I'm tired.  
Tomorrow, I'm returning to the clay conference, and want to be good date material, so I'm going to have to call it a night soon, crank up my earbuds and drift off with East Forest.  I still haven't gotten enough of them.    

It seems self-care comes with a lot of work.  I always think that's weird.  How much work it takes. Maybe it's why a lot of people don't take care of themselves very well.  
Self-care isn't what you think it is.

It's not about laziness, or self-centeredness, in the negative.  
It's about holding yourself through life. Sometimes being in touch with those places that need contact and holding hurt a whole lot.  Especially when you finally reach out to take care of them, after they've been abused or neglected so long.  

Self-care is not for the faint of heart.  
It's like non-optional heart surgery that can, ironically, only be performed once you're strong enough. 

So. Weird.

So I'm working on going gentle with myself.  
Even allowing that gentleness, that grace, is not easy.

Not easy, but time.  
I'm ready.
Even if I still need help here and there.
I'm here and ready.
Showing up, everyday, and still breathing.

I know I'm not alone in this.  
If you're here, breathing with me, no matter what, you have something to be proud about.
You have kept yourself living, and that, in itself, can be quite a feat.

You're a badass, breathing self-care renegade, and don't forget it.

From my mug, to yours.
Or your mug to mine.
Or however that works out!
Fill up your cup, and drink!
Cheers!
 

Tuesday Tunes Day, "From The Inside Out" "Grounded" & "Grandmothersphere" by East Forest

I’m so excited to be sharing today’s Tuesday Tune!  
You’re about to be the luckiest recipient of today's tune if you haven’t heard anything from East Forest, yet.  Heck, even if you have heard them, it never hurts to be reminded to connect back up!

I found and “favorited” East Forest about a month or two ago on one of my hikes searching for new-to-me music,  then somehow I lost their trail.  Today, as I connected with this week’s focus of self-care, their ethereal dreamscape  drifted out from under the eaves of a cliff. I’ve been in their embrace ever since. 

I think this will be my new bedtime music, which is likely to pour into morning, midday and evening chill, when I create the opportunity for it.  

They are a salve to my mind and heart, living at the intersection of safety and sound, on the way to love.
I feel like I could be gently vibrationally healed and born again, listening to them, when I open myself up to it.

Their sounds are perfection when coming through a pair of earbuds or headphones, but I have yet to find a way of taking them in, in which they are not captivating.  This is the most masterful blend of nature sounds, vibrations, tech instrumentals, recordings and vocals, I have heard yet.

I would surely adore hearing them live!
They are in the lineup at Treefort Music Fest in Boise, Idaho, March 23-27th!
There's still time get tickets and treat yourself!

Go, Self-Care Renegade, you!

In the spirit of Renegade Self-Care, this week I've doubled the pleasure of Tuesday Tunes Day with 2 picks, instead of just one!  Musical indulgence!

Not only are the sounds and music inspirational, but the visuals paired with it are exquisite, especially in "Grounded." 


About this week's Tuesday Tune pick: 

Members: Trevor Oswalt & friends
East Forest Facebook
East Forest Instagram
East Forest YouTube  
East Forest Biography 
Review of the album "Orbits" 
 

Song Title: "Grounded" 

Oh heck, let's make it a pick 3: We're breaking all the rules. You cannot overindulge this week!

This Week's Focus : "Renegade Self-Care"

 Monday is coming to you from the comfort of my bed because I'm walking-the-walk.

This week's focus topic is Self-Care!

I will be back to flesh this out as I put it into practice.

I'm exhausted, so I need to sleep soon. There's not a lot of flair left in me.  It's ok to show up, even when you don't have jazz hands, friends.  I know it's hard to accept, for some of us, but it's not always a full-tilt production.  Sometimes it really is just about Showing Up.  

It's about doing the things you need to do for yourself so you can not only keep going, but enjoy your life.  

It's OK to enjoy life.
A novel idea, for me!  
It's what I'm going to be exploring up-close for an entire week!

This is like, 5 billion steps past the "No More Drama" of last week.  
Life can be about so much more than getting away, and just surviving.

***

A funny thought went through my mind today as I contemplated the fate of my vehicle that was involved in the collision on Thursday.  I was driving my Ford Escape.  I remember when we bought that car about two years ago,  thinking "Escape" was such an empowering word. It made me feel badass.

I really loved that car!  
I say that in past tense because I'm speculating that it's totaled and done for.  
Now what?  I only liked that particular year's model, and they are in short supply now since we bought it used.  It was hard to find one when we originally bought it, to begin with. 

So, as I drove around town today I was noticing all the different vehicles that might be in our purchase range if we have to go car shopping again.

Have you ever given attention to the model names assigned to vehicles?  I'm the type of person who does that...a lot. I'm not saying I will analyze you according to the make and model of your vehicle,  but I might! 

I "Escaped" for 2 years, and loved it the entire time.

But since things have been changing and shifting in my world, I started to wonder today, if maybe there was something more to my car being totaled, (if, in fact, it is.)  Like maybe it's time for me to get around differently in life, now?  

There are Liberties (Jeep), Patriots (Jeep), Explorers (Ford),  Pathfinders (Nissan),  Pilots (Honda), Land Cruisers (Toyota),  Soul (Kia), Renegade (Jeep)....wait, what?  

Renegade!?
I'm going to have to look into that...I didn't even know such a model existed!  
It's in the same family as an Escape, but with a lot more bravery and confidence! 


Renegade Self-Care!

This is about going all out!
Bucking the system!
Living in grace!

Not just stopping the pain, but relishing in your breath.
Letting yourself lay still, or move, doing whatever it likes to do.
Have you ever asked yourself what self care is for you?  
No, not what you think others like to see or should see you do.  Not what you want others to think you like...but what you and your Self really likes?

What feels good?
What nourishes you?
What brings you back from hard times?
Where do you most want to be when you're happy, sad, hurting, scared?  
Is there anything about that you want to change?

What do you say?
Renegade your way into self-care with me this week?



***
Today's Self-Care:

I received  acupuncture to treat neck, back/body pain resulting from the car collision on Thursday.  This meant 20 minutes, laying down in a relaxing, dimly lit room in the middle of the day.

I relaxed outside in beautiful weather, while my daughter played.
In the process of sitting outside I got to have a friendly exchange with a neighbor walking by.


 

Dirt Trail Daily: "Focus Week" Wrap-Up

It's hard to explain, but really looking at what I'm doing every day of my life is the hardest thing I've ever done.
I still can't put words to it, but this uncomfortableness has an addictive quality to it.  
The days I come here and can't say what I really want to say, show me there's so much more in me.  And though so much is left underneath and inside, I trust one day this life is  going to dig its way up to the top.  One day there will be a bloom.

***


I painted some today!  
I had the urge to start a new painting, but then didn't feel like I had enough time to get it going.
So, I came back to the painting I've been with the past couple of weeks.  It's getting closer to finished, but it's still in the "not yet" stage.  Today, the "sky" in this painting appeared, and it brought some relief to the feelings inside me.  The sky is dark, but it's not felt as negative.  It is just felt.  


The first and last images are where the painting stands today, at the time of this posting...
Click the image to see this painting in process.  My studio cat, Sammy, found himself most comfortable in my lap while I painted today, so we make an appearance in the mix, too! We're all part of the painting in process.



 

 ***




Insights from the week:

* Throughout my days I began to notice, without giving too much merit to it, that I was focussing more outwardly than inwardly in my attempts to meet my "Focus" goal.  I found my feelings to be a form of interference, and chose to almost completely ignore them in the name of progress.  

*Due to pushing down my emotions, I am now dealing with push-back, which makes focussing (on anything!) harder than ever. 

*I noticed that when I push away my feelings, I go through my days and behave as if they aren't there. The feelings stay, but become effectively numbed.  The numbness then magically turns into blank despair, overwhelm and the threat of serious depression. (Chin scratch...I see, I see.)

*Disconnection = hurting.

*Even a relatively minor collision can amount to a whole lot of scary body pain, which is complicates already complicated feelings.

SO, What I am learning through this week's experiences:

*There is more than one way, and place, to focus, daily. Neither is more important than the other. (Internal/External focus)

*I can't be an effectively focused person unless I can balance the internal and external, and attend to both.  Maybe not at the same time, but eventually...like probably within 24 hours.

*Pushing away feelings does not make them go away for very long in any real way. For years, I was convinced, otherwise.

*Focussing in the wrong place is an incredible defense mechanism! 
I am able to see how people (myself included) can get things so wrong sometimes. If nobody pointed out the  obvious, but more painful,  big-picture reality,  I might be hauling around town in my car with only 3 wheels right now because I couldn't find a single scratch on my door.
Funny, but disturbingly true!

*I have more growing to do than I thought.  

*There might be better methods to aid in my growth than ones I've used, on a daily basis, in the past. 

*I learned somebody can mess up, take responsibility, and not blame me for it simply because I exist and was there for them to run into.  (The collision on Thursday.)

Take Aways from the week:

*Needs: more sleep, connection, time management/schedule planning

*Life is a mysterious, magical, heartbreaking, painful and beautiful, sometime all at once.  It's ok to not have it figured out immediately, or maybe ever, because some things are actually meant to just be felt, lived and loved.  

*No more drama.

*Don't give up.


Weekend Contemplations/Celebration:

*Explore what effective self-care looks like, personally.  Honor my journey of "Showing Up."

*Sit with my feelings for at least 30 minutes,  sometime within 48 hours, without evaluating them.  No tidying. 

*Trust the pain will move through and out of my body.  When it doesn't move out immediately, trust it over and over until it does.  It will. 

*Take an evaluation break.

*Breathe

*Let my body be emotive.



 

(True) Story Day: "I don't see anything here."

Today's 4 Word Story: 

"We're gonna get hit!"
 

Today's story is the whole story of this evening, and the last words my husband spoke before I looked up and saw the rear of someone else's car right in front of my face.

On the way to dinner tonight my family was involved in a collision in a parking lot. 
We all, thankfully,  walked away from it, but my vehicle did not fare so well.   In the near future, we will learn if it will ever return to our driveway.  It's sitting at an auto body shop with a crunched up side, and wheel bent off the axle,  now.  

The funny thing is, when I got out of the car to inspect the damage, I immediately looked at the passenger side door, where I had been sitting, because I thought my door was where the point of impact was.  I looked very, very closely, and then shrugged my shoulders, looking at the driver, and cautiously said, "I think it's ok, I don't see anything here." 

My husband and the other driver didn't say anything, but looked a bit pitifully at me...

 Whoops!  I had missed the whole  bashed in side panel just inches away from from where I was focused!

I really did not want to see that.

Focus.

Focus, focus, focus.

Sometimes reality jumps up and bites ya, other times it's a real creeper.

***


I had diligently followed my laid out plan, and had a 6-Word Story written earlier today, along with an in-depth trail update I felt good about.

But things don't always go as anticipated, no matter how well you think it through, and plan ahead.  Apparently, the universe felt my focus needed another run-in to jolt it into beast mode.  No glass ceiling, here!  Always room to improve.

Based on the emerging pattern of challenges, picking a focus topic for each week might be asking for trouble.

It feels like this is possibly an example of "Ask and you will receive."

Focus.
This week has been in zoom mode, 
but I still didn't see the crash coming.

For a split second, I looked down, then literally, BAM! 

It wasn't our fault, and there's really nothing we could have done to prevent it, short of not living our lives outside of the house.

Thankfully, the driver who hit our vehicle was nice, and seems trustworthy.  He offered for either him or his wife to drive me and my daughter home while my husband waited for a tow, when we didn't know who to call for a ride. 
I didn't take him up on it, but there was at least some comfort in all parties abilities to be in a rather dramatic situation without having any real drama.  

That part didn't even take any effort.  
So, the night wasn't a total bomb.
Pleasant company can ease a myriad of woes.

But I'm still a wreck inside.

 

Dirt Trail Daily: Focus Fun

For a moment today, I thought I was going to be a complete focus failure.  If you saw my post from Monday,  Focus is my "focus topic" for this week!  
That's Focus, capital F.  
For serious.

Today is "Check-In" day to see how my week focussing on Focus is going! :)

***

I wavered a bit today when somebody crossed a  clearly placed, healthy boundary.
When it happened, my body chemically responded, and my brain turned off into blankness, including the part of my brain that helps me see.
Briefly, I lost memory that I had something way more important to do than lose myself to drama.  

The experience was probably something like watching a play in football.   That move where someone is supposed to catch the ball and run, but almost drops it?  

For half a second the ball had wings,
then flew back to me.  

Upon recovery of the ball, I realized how expertly my day was going.
The challenge to my focus was mere opportunity for me to get better and perfect it!  


I came back to myself, tucked that brown leather under my arm and made a touchdown! 
Thank you, Jesus!  

I've never played football a single day in my life, and only watched it a few times, but I
I definitely know you get to dance when you make touchdown, and that's enough to make me hustle!

More dancing is needing in my life!
That is what it's all about!

***

In today's  experience, I realized my boundary was actually still my boundary, regardless of anyone's inability to respect it.  
Instead of being upset that someone crossed way over a well-marked line, and responding by losing my peace and/or my ability to function and complete my goals for the day, the boundary (and I) became more solid and stable.  The crossing affirmed  boundaries I have created are exactly the ones that need to stay, and be reinforced.

In so doing,  I am that much more grounded!

Focussed!!!  

No day wasted, no failure. No Drama!
Basically, a party at the end of the day!

Showing up works.  
My faith in it grows stronger at every intersection of "Do I stay or do I go?"

I have a job.  I'm self-employed
I take my job seriously, and I'm dedicated to it.  
I show up whether I feel like it, or not, and
whether it is hard, or not.
I get to make decisions about my life.
Nobody needs to get on their knees, or ask what my decision is more than once.
 ("The Clash" reference...you gotta listen to the song at the end ;) )
The verdict is in:  
The focused, healthy me, stays!  Bullies go!

My job gets better every day!
I get better every day.

That also means, I am learning how to be nice to myself.  

Part of me wanted to beat myself up for struggling with the ball.
My body had physiological fight/flight reactions and
it took real effort to stay focussed, and put my energy into working my program. 
But I recovered there too.

I reached out, and didn't stay alone.
Ultimately, I was there for myself.

And through it all, I painted!  

The day did not leave me with nothing to say.  
I'm here....with Focus muscles nice and worked out.
Tired, but accomplished.
I conclude this day with integrity, self-respect, and progress!

I'm even having a little fun!

I couldn't have asked for a better day, actually, if I'd planned it myself.
Wait, I did plan it!  My plan was to focus, I followed the plan, and killed it!
Win!

Day 28--Gold Star!

***

As I shared, some of my day was spent painting!  
I have continued to take progress photos to share of my painting-in-process, but there are not as many stop-steps to show of the work today because I was SO focussed, I didn't stop often!

The first and last image is where the painting stands at the time of this posting.  Click the image to view a slideshow of this painting in process.  
This painting still has a ways to go...and I'm enjoying spending time, focussing on it!

 

(Maybe turn down the volume on this one if the kiddies are around ;) )

Tuesday Tunes Day, "No More Drama" by Mary J. Blige

What is noteworthy about today's Tuesday Tune is that I owned Mary J. Blige's album, "No More Drama," almost as soon as it was released in 2001.   It was right at the same time I was going through a divorce with my first husband.  We'd been married for 5 years, and had a daughter together.  I was 22 years old, (and he was 37,) when this album came out.  

At the time, I had no education, no significant income, and no money.
I had just started cleaning laundry rooms for a condominium complex, bringing home $600 a month, when I left.

The whole world was still ahead of me.

Little did I know how early in the journey I was to my world being free from the drama.
Becoming free is not always as easy as it seems it would be.

I've been showing up on this journey years upon years.  It's just taken a long time for any of the work I've put into my life to become visible.  The seed of my young soul took many hits on the way to where I am now.  It's a miracle I finally found somewhere to grow, but I did.  

You can't give up, even when it seems to make the most sense, 
 if you want anything to get better.

Sometimes you can be so focussed on logic, you lose it all.
When things are bad for a very long time, it logically seems like the story can never change, and there is no hope.

I am here to tell you, nothing could be further from the truth.  
The truth is, you are more capable than you can believe, and the light will see you through.


I never will give up.
I know I am capable, and meant to live in the light.
Focus is mine.

If you don't believe you have it, keep your eyes open and watch for it everywhere you look, especially inside you.  You will see it there.  

If you don't like what you're seeing, or what you're believing, it is changeable.  
It might not come easy, but you are worth the effort of getting back up after every encounter with drama.  Keep showing up for your winning story.

Now, I can say with determination, focus, and strength of heart, "No More Drama."
I can't be guaranteed to never hurt again.  This is real life, and the only way to guarantee not getting hurt is to not really be putting yourself out there, to live in the beautiful unknown.
But I can, and am, saying, no more abuse.  From anyone.
I'm wiping the tears from the eyes of the young woman in me who worked to the bone to get here.

Sing it, Mary!
Let's make this one a sing-along!

"No More Drama" Lyrics
 

Wanna speak my mind, wanna speak my mind

Uh, it feel so good
When you let go
Of all the drama in your life
Now you're free from all the pain
Free from all the game
Free from all the stress
So find your happiness
I don't know
Only God knows where the story ends for me
But I know where the story begins
It's up to us to choose
Whether we win or loose
And I choose to win

 

About the week's Tuesday Tunes Pick: 

Mary J. Blige is a person who has not stopped growing and evolving personally, and artistically.  
Mary J. Blige Website
"No More Drama" (Song) on Wiki
"No More Drama" (Album) on Wiki

Rolling Stones Review of "No More Drama"

My favorite part of this review: 
" What hasn't changed is her lack of artifice: This is a sick-and-tired of being sick-and-tired kind of album, full of proclamations, commandments and warnings to herself and anyone who would dare tread on her feelings."


 

Dirt Trail Daily: A New Compass Rose

I've been doing some thinking over the weekend!

Day by day, the journey has already taken us far, but the structure, or lack of, is not sustainable for the long haul.  Lack of an outline has left me operating on 3-5 hours of sleep, nightly, as I aimlessly agonize how to share what I'm doing here, without clarity. Also, I want to show up with quality, not just go through the motions of being here with my exhausted, zombie-like, I'm-too-tired-to-hold-my-eyes-open-and-think, self.  

This journey is about wholeness.  So, I need to be able to be here, wholly.  
And that means, I need focus.

I'm in this for life!
I can't walk this path, blurry and blind, forever!

A serious journey needs direction.  Of course, anyone who starts out on a path is going somewhere, but if there is no map or signposts, you could go in circles until you run out of resources, energy or interest.  

 With this in mind, I've created a compass, of sorts.  
I'm not extremely skilled in orienteering, but to get better at finding your way, you have to start somewhere! 
There is no time like the present to get serious about navigating in this dense forest.  
This is the real deal.  Life. Heart. Soul.  Everything I have.
Wild things live here, and having a plan for where to place my feet,  step after step, is a way to reduce the panic, and stay and alive and well.

My goal is to become so proficient at orienteering, I can not only find my way, but, spread the love of old-school navigation ( The Heart's Way) to as many people as possible.    
Some day, in some way, I want to help other people on their journey's.
I believe one way to finding myself there is to start with being present in mine!
The all-important first step to anywhere.

To bring this home, I'm lending myself a hand on this pilgrimage by the way I show up for each day of my life!  

Here is my rough outline/map for the days and weeks ahead:

MONDAYS: Introduce a "focus topic" for the week.  

I made a list this weekend of weekly focus topics that will get me through a year and a half on this trail, and these were just off the top of my head.  It was enlightening to watch the list of topics pour out onto the page, to sustain my journey.   I thought I'd have a hard time coming up with even 5!    Some examples of focus topics are:  Empowerment, Peace, Connection, Adventure, Freedom....but as it stands, I have a list of 76 topics to choose from, and the list is growing!

Moving forward with purpose and a vision really can help with progress!  Ah, "vision!"  Another focus topic to add to the list.  Make that 77 topics to choose from, now! :)

TUESDAYS:  We will continue Tuesday Tunes Day!

 I've enjoyed how the last couple weeks have gone with a day dedicated to music, and musicians.  Music, the universal language of the heart.  I will try to pick a tune related, in some way, to the week's topic, but you might have to think outside the box to make the connection sometimes!  Abstract seeing, through sound, if you will.

WEDNESDAYS: Check-in day.

 An update day to keep us on track with the weekly focus topic, help us where things have been hard, discuss any off-shoots of the focus topic that have be revealed.

Basically, there are no hard and fast rules of what this has to be, but it is a lead for times when things might be feeling disorganized, chaotic or lost.  Learning to stay focussed is a process, and life happens.  The real stuff.  This is a day to get it all out, and keep it real.

THURSDAYS:  6-Word Story Day!

 Read more about six-word stories here, here, here, and here !
These stories will ideally have the week's focus topic in mind...

If you've been following my journey, you will have seen my occasional struggles with writing, ha! To be wordless, when so much has been active, is an extremely painful condition for me, as I've been "a writer" since I was 8 years old!  I honestly don't know a lot about 6-Word stories, but I've seen them pop up on Pinterest meme's and I'm enamored with them.  Less is more!  Simple is beautiful! You get the idea! I completely expect this to be my most challenging day! 
Again, no hard and fast rules here in my world.  It could be a 4-word story, or a haiku, or a sonnet.  Anything writing related...and anything one step away from wordless.

FRIDAYS: Wrap-Up Day.

  General evaluation of what the trail has taken and provided over a week's time.  This is a place for more insights, things learned, a place to sit with failures and successes...Processing the journey.  It will help lead us into the weekend, for a time of contemplation and/or celebration, and then lead us forward toward the next week's topic!  


Throughout the week, on any day, I will be sharing my artwork, and the process with that.  In the future, I might have a page on my website completely dedicated to artwork, and artwork in process...but for now, it will stay intermixed with daily trail updates, until further notice. <3

***


There you have it!  What do you think?  Does it sound like a plan?  
Do you think it's followable over thousands of miles of dirt trail?  

Again, this whole journey is a process for me, and I'm a work in progress.  Things might shift around and deviate from this.  I am currently mapping out this course, and this is the trajectory, but there are things beyond me that might cause alterations to the current plan.  The future is unknown, and that's what makes this an adventure worth being on! 

However, I could do without the struggles and anxiety of inconsistency, so I will do my best to follow this guide.  I just want to be open that I still actually have no idea what I'm doing, so things could change around a bit.  

I will always keep you with me, and informed as things progress!  
And progress, friends, we will!  :)

***

This week's Topic: FOCUS! 

 

Special Edition: The View from Sunday

Welcome to the view from Sunday!

Yes, I show up every day.  
I just don't usually show up here every day, on weekends.
But "here" is moving and fluid, so I am always here in some sense.    

This is a real journey to me, and I'm on it 24/7/365.  
I don't know if it started out that way.  I never thought I'd make it this far.
I feel like I've failed at so many things that meant the world to me, and that I put my whole entire self into. 
Somewhere along the way I stopped believing I could do anything.  
I didn't really believe I could do this, but I figured there wasn't a lot left to lose from where I was just a little over a month ago.

***


I thought when you got to be my age, people would stop hurting you, because you'd be a grown up, then.
I'm not in my 20's anymore.
I think I had some grace for myself to become a better, stronger, more capable person up to a certain point.

I thought I'd have this all figured out way before now.
Maybe it was just mere tenacity and inability to give up.  
Whether will or faith,
I had the stamina of youth. 

But one day...it was all gone.  I don't know the exact day or hour.  I have my ideas.  (One day I'll share about those, too, because there's even more to this story.)

The absence of whatever it was that kept me believing in my life has eaten away at the core of my spirit.  Pain and fear got inside me and took over.  

I've always believed in God.  
I didn't grow up in a traditional faith, but
for the longest time, even when things were hard,  I believed God had my back.
Even when bad things were happening, I didn't feel alone or forsaken.  


Bit by bit, things changed.  
Time continued and more and more things happened.

They're still happening today.  
Different things, but the same things.

"Things."
"Stuff."

***

What is worse than abuse?  

Hate.
Hate is worse than abuse.  

I've experienced both, and while they often go together, I think they can be separated. 
Unfortunately, it seems they pair well, and that's how they're often kept.

I think abuse can sometimes occur even when somebody doesn't know what they're doing. 
In Maya Angelou's autobiography, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," there is a quote, "Do the best you can until you know better. When you know better, do better." 

I think repeated abuse is generally not an accident, or an unknown infliction of pain. 

At Dictionary.com, hate is defined: 
 

verb (used with object), hated, hating.

1. to dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest


Now, I don't know if the people who continue to hurt me so much hate me, or not.  
It's not always so easy to sort out.
They often say they love me, and that's where it gets messy.
To make it even more complicated people rarely do  "all good" or "all bad" things.
It would be a lot easier if things were cut so cleanly.
And some of the messed-upness has been in place for so long, it is hard for anybody to identify it as unacceptable.
Even after it's identified.

As late as last month, I still maintained relationships with people who didn't respect my boundaries, came into my home and verbally assaulted me, held me hostage on my own property, and mocked decisions I make for myself and my life.

What is love?  

I'm almost 36 years old, and yes, these things are still happening in my life.

I don't care what it's called.  It doesn't matter what it is.
What continues to "happen" is not ok anymore.  It never was ok.

I'm saying, "No. More." 

I won't hide from the source of my creation anymore.
I will not be the keeper of the wounds and scars in darkness.
No more running from myself and The Light of the Great Unknown when what I am running from is "them."  

Yes, it's scary.
Healing, and exposure to the light, hurts ferociously.
It is hard to see so much destruction.

It's taken a long, long time to get to this.


In my 20's I recognized things weren't going well, I could identify the way things were didn't feel right. But, for the longest time I thought it was because nobody knew better.  There was hope in that.  And I still believed if I was a better human, the rest would improve too.

But 16 years later,  my hope for being able to stay in relationship with those who have repeated disregard for my life, is no more.  Even when they are sometimes, "nice."  Even when they give me money.  Even when...anything.

IT'S NOT OK.  ANYMORE.
Ever again.

I'm going to talk and connect with people.
I'm going to keep my eyes open and look into other's eyes.  
I'm going to re-learn how to pray.  I'm going to let go of the shame and be ok being on my own for a while, without the predictable pain.  
I'm going to find my breath.  I'm going to fall down on my knees in thanks for this life I was given to live and show up for EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.  Weekends, included.  Especially weekends!  I'm going to laugh again!  I'm probably going to have a beer every once in a while, even if it's not even beer with alcohol content, because I'm going to find so much joy in being in relationships.  

It's ok to be happy. 
And love doesn't always have to be so confusing.
I'm not the most evil person to ever walk this earth.

And I CARE.  Oh my God, do I care.
I care about people!
I care about how people feel.  
I care about the condition of people's mind, heart, and soul.
Even, and especially,  the ones I have to say "no more" to.  
Because I love you.

I  just know better now, than to stay.

I'm starting to care about and love me, too.
I'm not perfect, and I still want to be better.  I want to make life better for myself and the people I can reach, who are receptive.  Who do not taunt me, who do not jeer at the suggestion that I hold love within my soul.  

It's not my job to be weak to make others feel better.  
Killing myself is not the answer.  It never was.  
It never will be!  Not in the sense of stopping my heart.
My heart has some important stuff to do, and it's going to be beautiful.  

Jesus died for me, like he died for everyone else.
And I know I'll be laughed at for saying this.
But I'm ready.
Dear God, I'm ready.

It's taken most of my life to get here, and know what it meant.


"A Risk of Faith"  Mark 5: 21-34


Mark 5:34: Jesus said to her, "Daughter, you took a risk of faith, and now you're healed and whole.  Live well, live blessed!  Be healed of your plague."  (The Message)

or

Mark 5:34: He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has healed you.  Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."  (New International Version)  

Everyone's At a Fork in The Road...

I am running so hard from myself.  I have been running for weeks.  

It's just hard to be here.  It's hard to be anywhere.  

I painted a few hours in my studio today, working on the painting I started earlier this week.
It was disappointing because I had to stop, just as I was really starting to connect.  

My thoughts have been really jumbled when I try to show up.  
I don't know where I need to be.
I don't know what to do with myself. 

I feel a calling to sit outside in nature.  I don't know how I've let so much time pass since I was on a real dirt trail.  
I need something more than me.  I need an encounter in another kingdom.  
Maybe I do know where I need to be.
I'm just scared to be there.
When I show up in nature, the unknown often makes itself majestically visible. 

The unknown comes in the stillness.  It lets me know I'm not alone.
And I'm scared of it.

I'm scared I'm failing at this.
It got so real, so fast, for me.

I didn't know what to do when I started to feel like I wasn't on this trail, alone.

I wonder if this is what makes me push the Light away.  

I want the closeness, but I don't know how to to have it.

Like food, like....beer. Like all the good I keep from myself.

The scariest thing is to have what I want.

And when it seems like the Light is telling me it's ok to have what I want, I just don't know what to do with it.

Could it be, simply...Love it? 

When I have studio time, lately I've been having to talk myself through it.
It's so wonderful to have time to paint and connect.  I love being in the studio so much.  
I created a studio space in my home that I love.  I worked hard to put it together, but it's still hard to allow myself in.

When I'm painting, the energy is flowing well, and I start to relax, something starts running in the background of my mind telling me I can't be here.  I've been responding to that message, saying, "No.  It's ok to be here, healing. Not everybody has this, and I wish they did.  I might not have it forever, but it's here now and it's ok to be here, in this space, doing what I love, feeling at peace."

Just love what I do, and share it with others? 

I feel the same way when people are nice to me.  It's scary.
In my head it's like it can't be happening.  
I definitely prefer when people are nice, rather than not-nice.  Not-nice people are scary too!
Between the two, I'd pick the nice-people kind of scary, any day.  
But, fear keeps me forming relationships with anyone.
What if I'm not good enough to be with nice people?

Just love the people, and don't worry about the rest?  

I've been beating myself up for talking about beer yesterday, because maybe that was bad?

Just love that something so simple as a single beer could bring me joy, and forget about judgments? 

So many running loops in my head, with no end.
I feel like I might need to take a week off trying to talk.
 Purely speak through other creative means, without trying to make sense of it.
 Paint, clay, music, photography, movement, even poetry.


Art feels like the the way to step forward, in this moment.
It gets twisted up inside me the least.  

I'm going to process, listen, reset, and connect. 

Linear thinking isn't my strong suit right now.
I've been pushing myself into it, and it's just all wrong.
I'm in a wordless place, and I need to honor that.

If words come, they come.  
If they don't, it doesn't mean I'm not showing up.

It's like the journey is giving me the experiences and challenges I need to progress.
Deep inside it's what I want, I know, because it's terrifying.
I'm going to be brave, work on accepting it, and let the journey nourish me.
  

***

This is the painting I started two days ago.  It is still in process, and has a long way to go.
Click on the image to see the in-process progression of this painting, so far.  
The first and last image in this slideshow is where it stands at the time of this posting.
 

I'm Getting There, By God!

I really just wanted a beer tonight.
Gluten Free Beer.  But, still.  BEER.  

Real beer, with alcohol content.

We ate dinner out tonight because the kitchen is in demolition mode.   
All I could really think throughout the hour-long wait to be seated, (buy one/get one free burger night is a big deal in the suburbs!) was...Beer.

I wanted beer!
I understand this might not seem newsworthy, and definitely not blog worthy to most.
But, consider if it was.

It's enough of a story to account for a day's worth of material on the trail.
I feel playful about it, but I also mean what I'm saying.

I thought about keeping this developing story to myself, then thought, "No more shame!  I need to tell the world about how my life really is.  I can't keep this a secret any longer."

You need to know, so here it goes...

I'm a water girl.

AND...I whole-heartedly believe having a beer is a step in my recovery.


 "Client accepts beer consumption is a treatment goal" is probably not the kind of thing therapists traditionally check off on client progress lists, but this is my healing journey.  I'm me, and this is not a textbook hike.


My thirst for an evening with a beer in my hand is progress!
I'm ready to enjoy life!



***
 
You CAN enjoy life without beer! 
Hear me loud and clear. 
I get it that beer is not in everyone's recovery plan.  
For some, it's the last damn thing in the world needed.
Alcohol can be a living nightmare, a demon, a journey into hell.  
The struggle many are up against with alcohol is real.
It is all of this and more, and it is not a joke.
Real people are tormented by it, and the hurt it is supposed to hide or bury, but only makes worse, digging deeper wounds into individual souls, and the hearts of loved ones. 
It's destructive, painful, crushing.
Deadly.

I'm NOT an "Alcohol cures anything and everything," advocate.  
I expose my personal story with alcohol at the risk of sounding like I am.  
To be clear, I am not endorsing alcoholism.
I have loved people who battle alcoholism.

Hank Williams Jr.'s song, "Family Tradition" was sung loud and proud by some around me, growing up.
I've seen the other side.

***

I'm blessed with other demons that just happen to not be alcohol, or, rather, the over-consumption of it. 
This is what I really need to say fast and simple: One of my demons is food. 
Actually, anything with calories.  Including alcohol.
I just happen to experience a version of alcoholism in inverse form.  

This isn't about alcohol, and this isn't about food.  
Alcohol, food, name your substance issue...is not about the substance, itself.  

***

For me, my inability to ever be anything but straight-laced, day-in and day-out, for thousands of days on end, is one part of my hell.

Sure, there's plenty of times I would like to have a drink, but it's only the rarest occasion that it actually happens.  
And wow, do I have a million reasons why I can't sit back and pour a tall one.

"Oh, it's sunny out.  Better not have a drink."  
You know how it goes.  There's always an excuse for not having one..

And, I have to admit, I didn't actually have a beer tonight, either.

But I'm getting there.
By God, I'm getting there!

It's one thing to eat a regular meal and not do something to attempt to get it out or off of you.
But ingesting, and enjoying beer, guilt, shame, and worry free,  in my little land of weirdness, is even more meaningful.

Here's the news!!!

When I thought of beer tonight, I really just thought of the enjoyment aspect of how it could be to have one.

 

I guess I could think about enjoyment, and sub in regular old food, too, but beer holds a different emotional story because it's something you don't have to have to survive, by the books, anyway.
And, the effects of it are different than, say, a piece of chocolate, even.

Eventually, to stay alive, everybody needs some kind of food.  
As a person who struggles with this aspect of life, you can create all kinds of rules and behaviors around food to keep it under control and also keep living. It's an intricate dance.

But beer...you just do not physiologically have to have it to keep going, in most cases.


I happen to really enjoy the experience that comes with having a "responsible" amount of alcohol.  

 I often feel like that experience of not being "on call"  for someone, or navigating something serious and/or threatening,  is something I'm not fully allowed to have.

There's the carb/calorie/management aspect that keeps me from ordering it up, but what weighs even stronger into my consideration of it, is the struggle  to not be THE most responsible person in the room.  

It's about being in a state of trust with myself, others, and ultimately, life.
Trust is not the state I typically live in.

And that...is a serious problem I'm looking to change.

What if sobriety can be as reckless as drunkenness?

How important is it to love the life I'm living? 
What am I responsible for?

As an adult, I'm responsible for my ability to enjoy life.
I can make decisions that nourish me.

It feels scary and dangerous to let me have what I want, yes?  
But what is safety, anyway?  



I guess, if occasionally putting myself in the way of alcohol is part of my personal litmus test, let it be!?

To Grandmother's House We Go

There are two things I know about my great-grandmother.  

1) She loved birds.
2) She loved watermelon.

***

My great-grandmother, Georgia, died when I was 6.  
Even though we didn't have a close relationship, I remember her.

 She lived in a retirement home before she got sick with cancer, and moved into my grandparent's house to be cared for.  I remember where she lived because it was a high rise, and we had to take an elevator up to her apartment.  The memory of it probably stayed with me because as a kid, my mom would point to the building and tell me that's where my great-grandmother lived, when we'd pass by it.  I used to think it was crazy-impossible that someone so old and frail could live in a building so big and tall.  I guess because in my mind, it seemed like living in such a big building would be overwhelming to someone who didn't seem strong.  

What I remember most about her, are her dolls.

My great-grandmother had these dolls that were ancient, even back then. I have a vague memory of tapping my mom's leg, and whispering to ask her if I could get out the garbage sack where the dolls were kept.  It's my only real memory of being there, but I know I was there more than once.  The anticipation of seeing her dolls was palpable.

I can see my arm, now, disappearing into that bag, grabbing each doll, one-by-one, until they were all set out before me.  A feast.  
Their doll bodies held history all over them.
Touching them felt ethereal...even to my 6-ish year-old self.

Their hair was rough and matted, the blonde hair turned a brittle light-brown, due to age, but probably mostly from the dust and dirt of being played with so much.
None of them were soft bodied. Fingerprints were all over them, left from generations of children before me.  
They had the kind of eyes that shut when they were reclined, although most of them had become permanently sealed in all positions.  They had to be forced open, manually, by the time I got to them.  It was part of the fun and entertainment.  

Next, I remember my great-grandmother, at my grandparent's house, sick.  I know she was sick because I remember the oxygen tank, and her having to be helped up and out of chairs.  But mostly, I remember the energy of everyone there  during that time.  Grief, tension, fear... 

 The dolls made the trip with her.  Once at my grandparent's house,  they were kept in my grandpa's room in a old red leather ottoman where all the other toys lived.  The red ottoman is another fixture in my memory.  It was there, filled with toys, until the day he died, nearly two decades after my great-grandmother. 

***

My great-grandmother loved birds.
I know this, not because I can remember me and my great-grandmother ever really having a conversation, but because while she was living at my grandparent's house, there was a picture hung of a red cardinal in my grandma's room (where my great-grandmother stayed.)  I recognized the bird picture as being out of place.  I knew it hadn't always been there.  I must have asked about it because I recall my grandmother looking at her mom, and say to me, "She loves birds.  She collects birds."  

It's still imbedded in my brain, 30 years later.  It's funny, the things you remember.

During this same period, when my great-grandmother was sick, everyone was eating watermelon at my grandparent's house.  Apparently, I was eating a lot of it.

 I clearly remember my grandma saying that day, "You're like your great-grandma!  She loves watermelon!  She likes it with salt sprinkled on it.  Want to try it with salt?" 

I remember thinking, "gross!" and then trying it. 
I wanted to know what my great-grandma thought was so good, and if I really might be like her.
It was surprisingly ok!
Those were the days when watermelons came filled with tons of black seeds.  
The memory is so clear inside me, my mouth waters for a bite.
I don't eat my watermelon with salt now, but I think about it every time.

***


I'm sharing this because I remember when my family, dysfunctional as it could be, was still family.
I loved them all.  I wanted to be part of it.
They were important to me.  
Maybe I have these specific memories about dolls, birds and watermelon because these sorts of things were more the exception to the typical experiences and conversations.
But, regardless, deep memories were made, not all of which were hurtful or traumatic.


My great-grandmother passed, and the dolls stayed.
At my grandparents house, I would sit quietly and listen to the adults, and not play with the dolls.
After the initial excitement of getting them out of the bag, and seeing them, I was more interested in what was being said, and what was going on around me.
I picked up on a lot of stuff...like I did about my great-grandmother.
Other stuff, too, of course.

Things stay with you.  They did me, anyway.
Monday, I spoke about the layers people and stories have. 
This is one of my layers.

*** 


Without any conscious intention, the last 3 paintings I've made in my studio have revolved around birds.

I began this painting today.  
Click on the images to view a slideshow of my process up to this point.  The first and last photos are where the painting stands at the time of this posting.
I now have two paintings currently in the active process stage.  Both currently feature birds!

I've felt exceptionally drawn to birds, without knowing why.  
I speculate it has something to do with their wings, and the ability to fly.  
Birds can come close and go far away, quickly.  They are sensitive and perceptive.  Fragile and resilient.

Maybe it's tied to a longing for freedom, release, to rise, transcend, travel.  The search to be both connected, and safe

But I think some of it is grief.  Like a connection to a void that would never be filled, even if people lived forever.  They are like messengers, coming and going, highlighting the big-picture empty space of my life.

It's significant to me that, the first time a bird appeared, I thought of my great-grandmother.  
It was a passing thought, at first, but it hung in the air. 
Now, today, on my 3rd painting of birds, the thought of connection to my great-grandmother, and family that no longer exists, is prominent.  

  
My family  didn't just up, and disappear.  It was chronically ill.  It became terminal when my grandpa, the thread who kept the family together at all, passed away 11 years ago.   The weak remainder of family connection died with him.  

While my great-grandmother loved birds and watermelon...my grandpa seemed to be love.
He was kindness.  He was also sound, slow to anger, and reasonable.
He was the calm in the storm.
He was hope.

He at least had a less hurtful way of surviving his pain than others I saw.  



The birds are bringing up feelings about the strength of both connection and aloneness, and where I am.
What do I want? What is possible? How do I progress toward it?  

Maybe the birds have appeared, to try to tell me there's still hope for my memories, or the lack of.  
Absence, loss,  longing.
Most of the feelings, I can't articulate.
I'm asking them to show me the way.
  
I want more.  But, I don't know what there is to have more of.
It's gone, for so many reasons.
Or, it was never there.

Tuesday Tunes Day, "Life You Love" by Mirah

Last week was our debut of Tuesday Tunes Day, and here it is again!  
I'm liking this little dig into the music world!
 

Oh, how I love music!!!  And oh...how I have never been able to jam out on my own.
 Sadly, I have never played an instrument...unless unruly, (and short lived!) attempts at the violin and flute in 4th and 5th grade count!  
 
So, I get my fix, vicariously, by being a closet DJ, and making tons of personal playlists.  
It's exciting to be able to carry this joy over to the Dirt Trail.  
I hope my sharing will bring some goodness for you!
It feels sort of like a spur trail...a for-fun part of the journey.  
Fun is important, after all!
It's where some of the best, most serious growth, can come from.  

Walking in silence, with pure nature sounds as the background, is exquisite!  
But sometimes, you just gotta switch it up, and rock the earbuds!
People can also be a natural environmental element. 
Songs sung/performed from inside people, bring spirit to the atmosphere!  

Carry on!
Enjoy!

***


About this week's Tuesday Tunes pick:
Mirah-Official Website
Pitchfork Review of Mirah's 2014 album, Changing Light
Mirah-Wikipedia
"Life You Love" Lyrics

It was truly hard to pick just one song from Mirah today.  There were several that seemed to fit. (It's been a busy, emotional day!) But, this one hit the note on all sides.  
I just love how music can bring it all together...in like, under 3 minutes! :)

All in a Golden Afternoon

You can get so used to being alone, that anything other than alone just feels wrong.  
But not just feels wrong.
It can feel like you're doing something wrong.

Being connected with others is to learn a new language.  To be in a foreign land.  Everything is different.  Culture, customs, the spoken and unspoken.  
It is a process to learn how to be un-alone, and like it.

So many situations and circumstances can lead to aloneness and isolation:

Some people are alone because there are literally no people around them.  Somebody who grows up in the woods, surrounded only by the wild.

Some people are surrounded by crowds, maybe live in a big city and are never actually solitary, but they feel faceless amongst so many.

Others grow up in tight-knit families, but can never be themselves because requirements and expectations for being accepted are so high, lest the whole family unravel.  They live as an unknown.

Still, others grow up in in families whose structure is built on absence. They are a closed community with no support within or without.  These people fend for themselves emotionally, trust no one, and sometimes might have to fight off attackers from inside their own "circle."

Or, maybe, a person grows up in a stable family, but something so far outside of the norm happens to them nobody in the community can identify with it.  With the discomfort, responses and plans with others become less and less .  Eventually, there is no contact with anyone anymore.

There are probably as many causes, and stories, of what leads to living life alone and disconnected as there are people who are, or feel, alone and isolated.  People, and the stories within them, have layers and layers.

I think a lot more people live as lone wolves than any of us like to think.
Even the lone wolf sort.  Especially, the lone wolf sort.

Chronic, long-term aloneness breeds this sort of insular world of containment in which everybody else, no matter who they are or what their intentions, becomes a threat.
This means we might bump into another "lone wolf" and be confronted, face-to-face, with the crisis of our own loneliness.

We might have been alone for so long, loneliness has become stale and dull to the point it's no longer even felt.  But a brush with another spirit wakens it.  
Once we are SO alone, the belief is that we must stay alone.

 It's as if life depends on it.

   
***

I don't think it's true that being alone for a lifetime is the best way to be safe, happy, and fulfilled, but of course, logic doesn't always trump all.

When I first started showing up here, I was alone.  
Showing up was a risk, something new, and a commitment.
It was a challenge, but it wasn't terribly difficult. 
I wasn't really worried about the things I said here.
It was fairly easy to expose in-the-moment feelings.    

I didn't think anybody would see or hear me, so it was doable.
It was like I was in a den or cave, and would come outside to stretch for a bit.  Nibble at something.  Maybe even stay out late for a rare sunset that hadn't been seen in years.  That felt amazing, life-giving, even exhilarating.  
Still, there wasn't really the possibility in my mind that anyone would be watching.
And, most certainly, watching and waiting.

Throughout the days, as I started to connect in these new ways with myself, other people started showing up.   People inside me, at the very least.  People with lives of their own, their own experiences, opinions and judgments.  
That was interesting.  Some different paintings evolved from that.
Showing up got a little more edgy when things started connecting inside myself, but I started to feel free.

Then it happened.
The real-deal, stay away, I'd-rather-die-than-be-in-this-danger, danger.
But I couldn't die this time.
I had to stay.  I had to show up.

It was like predators could smell my blood.
One by one their unseen presence inched their way to the edge of my space.   
Things started to break apart in me because I didn't want to give up that feeling of freedom from  coming out of my cave.
 The idea of slinking back with my head low and tail ducked suddenly didn't feel ok to me anymore.  
I stood my ground.

And then.....
Then the voices of tormentors moved in so close they were whispering in my ear.

This is what they said:
"Bitch! You're a bitch."  Not just once, but repeatedly.
"Bitch."  This background word plays on a rolling reel, as the rest stream in.
"Shut up, you're trash and have no right to speak.  You have no right to be alive in the light."
"You're an evil, greedy control freak."  
"You're worthless, you always were."

The orders are to to go back to my cave where I came from.  
There was a lot of posturing from them.  Multiple charges.

Every day last week I came here to show up, they were here before me.  
Watching, waiting, following every move.

I knew they could take me down.  They've taken me down before.  
I've even half-folded back into their pack a time or two, believing they were justified and safe enough, only to have them eat me alive from the inside out, and leave me for dead.

***

So...I don't know all of what is ahead for me.
I do know that writing, that showing up today has been a lot lighter, and not as scary.
I guess I'm not hiding my face from the sun.
The dense tangle of melting is softening as I write this.
I hear my voice, connected to the light.

It's a true struggle to show up and hide.
It almost can't be done at all.

I'm deciding to take on the risks of walking out my cave to frolic in the meadow.
Caves are beautiful and enchanting.  A lot of goodness and story  and internal growth can happen in them.  

But my favorite place is the meadow, the riskiest place of all.
Open and exposed to predators and the elements.
It's also the place to graze, bask in the sun, dance, and dream with your eyes open.

Maybe I love the meadow so much because the name given to me at birth was Heather.
It's my true home, and I'm returning to it.  I might live and die here, but I will be seen, heard, know myself and be known for who I really am.  

I might be referred to as "plain old Heather," but my species tends to blanket the meadow, as a whole, in a beautiful spread of color.  

I have a relationship with beauty in the world.

This is me, and who I will continue to be, even as I mature.
I support the connection of life and transformation across all of nature.  
It is what I live for.

So, if you see a wolf, or a butterfly, or a field mouse, or a bear...or a person out and about, please hand him or her a flower from your heart.
It's a magical place to start! 

Note:
I love personal alone time and space in the meadow.  I don't believe being alone, in and of itself, is inherently bad.  In fact, it can be useful, healing, and maybe even necessary for everyone in varying doses, depending on personality, interests, and circumstances.  Alone time can be a luxury. What I mean here by "alone" is in regard to chronic isolation, which, I do not love or believe to be healthy. 

Breaking out of chronic isolation and/or abuse can feel very conflicting, confusing and even "wrong," for so many reasons.
I will continue to challenge this and reach out. 

I have a calling to use my voice, be myself in relationship with the light, and support beauty within and between people in the world.

***This is the first trail update written during the daytime, and it actually is a golden afternoon!***

What If It Was Ok?

THIS! 

Just.  This.

This. This. This.

This is what my week has been!  

I haven't mentioned it, possibly because of relationship issues with my muse,  but the forces of synchronicity have actually been quite strong this week.

Here it is, showing up again!  Consistency counts.

Yesterday, I tried to describe the way I felt as being tangled in a dense melt, and felt silly suggesting something so seemingly fluid as melting could also be experienced as dense and tangled.  

What if we didn't blow it off when the gracious and beautiful in the world is offering a hand, or a shoulder to lean on, in life?  I'm  being held up by this piece of nature.

The courage to show up every day, exposing the messy, is made possible by being able to see the beauty of the process.  Maybe there is a kind of beauty in the not knowing what to do, or where to go...the crashing.  

I love how this article tells about the ice glistening "because of sun shining on frost flowers that had formed overnight." 

I'm hit with the revelation that what I thought was the worst, most embarrassing week, so far, is actually part of magnificent beauty, if I allow it to be.
 
Some questions:

What if what you saw as a disaster, and thought was only ugly about yourself and your life, was actually beautiful?  What if you didn't get thrown off by the "ugly phase" and stayed with the uncomfortableness to see what's being made? 

What if it was ok to let go, melt into your calling, creatively connect, and become art? 

What if grace was for you?

I had no idea, in the deep of night on Day 18,  what I was in the middle of!  


***


20 Days to get here.  4 Monday-Fridays.  Almost a whole month has passed.

This image of ice stacking on Lake Superior leaves me with much less to say, now, but in a good way!  
I could sit here and watch on repeat until I fall asleep because I'm so thrilled to still be alive!

I'd been growing increasingly discouraged about my struggles to show up, but then it dawned on me, this morning. While 20 days is a good stretch of showing up, it's just 20 days!   

The truth is, I'm still struggling to get out what I'm really wanting to say, and it makes me feel like a wreck!

But I'm thinking forward, taking steps every day to grow.  
Sometimes my movement looks and sounds like brokenness and crashing, but that's ok!  It's all part of something much bigger, and there's beauty and value in this process!  

Something is being made!  I know the "ugly phase" is part of the magic!

I'm 13,119 days into my journey, and I've accomplished more in the last 20 days of it than I have in my entire lifetime, just by showing up and consistently engaging in the realm of the Great Unknown.

Perspective.

I got majorly excited, and admittedly a bit more freaked out, but then I released my freaking, and let it gracefully drift away with all the other melting chains in me.  

I might have even teared up.

The element of water is taking over me, and it's not always a bad thing.

PS.  Have I mentioned how much I <3 Cloud Cult? ;)