Leaping into the Unknown

is Scary as hell, yet that is what I have been doing for the past week and will do again today in a mere 2 hours. I won’t go into detail about the leap (maybe later if the leap creates some changes in my life), but it is sufficient to know that it scares the hell out of me, and I am discovering that it is also very exhausting. It was all I could do to force myself to work out for 30min this morning and I think I slept 12 hours last night….well maybe 10, but alot anyway. I want to be positive, and to leap; with faith and assurance that I will make it through and be a better person for the experience on the other side, even if things don’t turn out the way I think I want. The truth is, I don’t know what I want, so I am trusting to a Power Greater Than Myself, and trying to follow guidance that I receive and trust that I will be led where I am supposed to go. When I say it all out like that, it sounds like a bunch of malarky (I have no idea how to spell that word, or even if it is a real word that deserves spelling).

Something else that i s a bit frustrating to me is that this leap that I have been taking has been sucking the creative energy out of me. I had been feeling so very creative, it was most exciting and new and I was feeling so much joy about it….but now I have several projects on my kitchen table in various stages of completion awaiting my attention…and I have been giving in to watching old SG-1 shows instead. Mind-numbing you know.

Crazy Math Genius

Yeah, seriously. So change is inevitable. Right? That is how the old maxim goes, and generally I have found that to be one of the major truths about life (if there is any such thing as truth that is, truth being so relative). Ah, there I go, waxing philosophic. Prepare yourself for more of the same or just stop reading now. (I swear this has relevance).

So, I am supposed to be teaching a nursing math course this fall right? (oh, I forgot to blog about that, well I am and I am not excited about it).  Math of any sort has never been my cup of tea, and over the past few years I hae come to the comfortable b elief that my ineptitude in this area is just spanking okay. right as rain. one of those quirky things that makes me so loveable. And just as I am settling in to a comfortable state of acceptance…wham!…teaching a math course. sigh. I am reassured (I think a bit condescendingly – or maybe they just don’t understand my angst with math).  Maybe life is telling me that I am selling myself short…that this is an area of needed improvement, where I have the ability to improve. Or maybe life is telling me that it is time to move on. Whatever the case, it has been the cause for much reflection and introspection on my part. Change is coming (and may be drastic but that is cause for another post..on to my math geniusness)

So with the math thing…here is a beautiful illustration. I have decided to make curtains for my living/dining room. I measured the windows (inches) and thought hard about converting this into yards, but I started thinking about square inches and other random things and felt overwhelmed so I just stopped. I figured that whoever  cuts the fabric for me can help me translate the figures I retrieved into this language of yardage (which is really ridiculous that we still use yards…I mean seriously stone age, can’t figure it out). SO I found some pretty fabric. And I remembered that a yard is 36inches. So I thought, I can figure this out myself. I had her measure the fabric (all that was left on the spool or whatever you call it) and tell me how much was there…4.4 yards. I did some quick mental calculating (I swear I thought I did) and came to the conclusion that would be enough and maybe even a little extra.

When I got home I cut out the first curtain. It measures 35X58. As I started to work I got to thinking….58 in long curtains…..36inches times four plus some…..58in long curtains. Oh dear leaping froglegs…..Houston, we have a problem.

I am sad really, because the fabric is beautiful and would love marvelous in my living room.  But it will have to go in the den (only two windows in there). After I grieved that, I spent some time laughing at myself. Teaching a math course indeed.

Something is going to have to change.

Neuroses of the Cat

I finally have confirmation that cats take after their owners (i.e. my cats take after my hubby and myself). I have suspected it for some time. Beyaze (my boy kitty) has a heart murmur just like my hubby. Both Hera (girl kitty of course) and Beyaze are overweight (ahem) and they are both sweet and loveable – of course all traits I possess.

About 4 or 5 months ago, I  noticed a bare patch on Hera’s tummy that was consistently getting larger. I was about to take her to the vet, fearing some dread skin disease, when I observed the silly cat chewing the hair off her abdomen! Crazy! I have still been a little concerned about it, so when I took the pair in for their yearly shots yesterday I talked to my vet about it. Turns out it is a neurotic type habit! I have to laugh, but then I think about the whole pet taking after owner thing, and I laugh even harder. what a riot. My cat is as neurotic as me (and hubby, and actually this is more like a nervous habit of his, but we won’t go into that…its very endearing though). I like to thing that I have most of my neuroses under control these days. I have even had comments from students, friends, and strangers that I am so “calm”.  Often these days  that calm is on the inside too (although I used to be a nervous nelly all the time), but occassionally I am a writhing mass of anxiousness inside that is only rarely manifested on the outside (or at least I like to think so). And now I find that my kitty is just like me! Here she is seemingly all calm and put together in a way that only a female kitty can pull off and she is neurotically chewing the hair off her belly!

On the upside, the vet says that we don’t have to do anything about it as long as she is a mess of sores from chewing on herself. And her belly is so soft and she loves it when I rub it. I do too.

Releasing the old

This is something that is very often difficult for me to do. I tend to cling, hang on for dear life, or otherwise just stick things in the closet (sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively) in case I need to pull them out and stew over them..ahem, I mean use them in the futre. It is one of the reasons why I have had long hair for so long. Hanging on to old ideas and what is comfortable. My dad always said when I was growing up that “little girls have long pretty hair”. He would usually get mad whenever we got our hair cut, because invariabley it would be too short for him (even though it was still long). I have carried that maxim with me into adulthood. Now I like long hair. I love it actually. On myself  and on other people. But it was getting old and tired. Too long, too flat. I have had some cute dos, but they generally are the same do a little different way.  There is, after all, only so much you can do with long fine hair. I have been gearing up for getting my hair cut shorter for about a year, but seriously for the last six months. Okay, yes, sometimes I am resistant to change. I really need to experience the process of getting ready for a major change, especially in an area that is important to me…like my hair. So i have been talking about it, admiring cute short hair and imagining life without long hair for eons now.

So, since I couldn’t make a decision firmly, I just decided NOT to get my hair cut. For six months. Ugh. I even made two appointments over the last few months and canceled them. Indecisive. But finally, yesterday I did it. I really cut my hair. And it is short. Okay, well maybe medium length, but short for me. It barely grazes my shoulders when wet. It looks fantabulous too (thank you so much Natalie at Fruition…you rock!!). I haven’t even agonized over it. It feels so light and so free in more ways that one. This is very symbolic for me. Not just releasing hair, but releasing old patterns and thought processes that are no longer serving me. I watched the foot-long (well at least 10 inches) hanks of hair fall to the floor yesterday and it felt really good. Damn good. I loved that hair, but it was time to let it go and time to make room for the new.

Maybe next time I will even get highlights (I have been thinking about that one for almost 2 years now).

On another note this morning I saw the momma wren in my birdhouse feed a little bug to the gaping maw of a cutsey tootsey little baby wren. happy joy.

Finding my balance

I thought the herons were gone for the summer. The yellow-crested night ones that had been visiting my backyard. I had not seen them in weeks, and I imagined them on their way, migrating somewhere else. Yesterday after a big storm, they reappeared…happy as clams, hadn’t gone anywhere. This is a reminder to me that I don’t always know what is going to happen (surprise!) and that often what I think to be true, isn’t true at all. Perhaps if not for the storm yesterday, I would have continued in my mistaken belief that they had migrated, when in fact they would probably have just been hanging out on the other side of the fence, where the stream flows. What I know as ‘truth’ may be quite relative or in fact, just an illusion, a misperception.

Herons also are reminders to me of balance. They are birds of balance, achieving their balance through inherent grace, fluidity and slow purposeful movements. I often observe them, necks stretched out, on one foot, patiently observing the object of their desire (worms or some other such critter), thoughtful and poised until it is the time for decision making and they are swift and decisive. Patience, thoughtfulness and purposefull are the words that reach out to me…a means for me to find my balance.

All of this rambling is because I am very out of balance. I have been obsessing over a work situation – and whether to leave or to stay. Feeling very chaotic and indecisive, yet wanting to make an immediate decision…like NOW. But what I really need to make that decision is soft stillness and quiet. Perhaps even avoiding thinking about it for a while and just getting still. Letting go of the need to do it ‘right’ or make the ‘perfect’ decision (including of course of all the future scenarios and how I can best make them all turn out perfectly – definitely need to let go of that). So this morning I have been doing some reading on guidance, for guidance is what I need and through these readings and the heron’s reminder I am guided to get still. To let go. To find my balance. I believe I then will be guided to whatever decision is ‘right’ for me right now. The challenge can be getting to that still place and trusting the guidance when I can then hear it.

teensy happy things make a mountain of joy

As has been indicated on several different occassions in this blog, I have a propensity for negativity. It is not entirely my fault you know. I come from a long-line of negative nellies (and yes I still love to engage in ancestor blame on occassion so there). This past Monday I was presented with a “non-choice” choice that really got me pissy. grouchy for days. And when I get like that, it is so much easier for me to see the negative – which of course furthers my spiral into negative nellie-dom that is sometimes very hard to get out of.

Today however, I am feeling quite happy. It is not any big thing, and I am choosing not to focus on the fact that I have to teach a math class this fall (umm… 2+2=5 is not just a radiohead song you know). Instead I am focusing on lots of little teensy fun things that make me smile.

friends – especially fun ones who like to have play dates.

figs – teensy tiny ones growing on trees in my backyard.

iced coffee – learning how to make it….can’t wait!!!

grapes – teensy tiny clusters growing on the little vine I planted.

pine sol – the smell of it. as of this morning my house is cleaner than it has been in MONTHS.

26lbs – let go

paint – in lots of little bottles

my art work – yes I said it. on my walls. Three of them. (that gets into something I have wanted to blog about for a while, but you know how good thoughts always come to me when I don’t have time to blog….anyway I have this goal to cover my walls with art of my own that I like).

kittehs – I just love them. even with the gooey hairballs and the plaintive meorws.

dahlias – the orange ones in my front yard

creativity – expressing

hubby – in all his cuteness

3 miles – the distance I am going to walk in about 10minutes.

happyhappy

labels

I do so enjoy watching my birds in the morning with a good cup of coffee. It is truly rather meditative, and sets a good feel for the rest of my day (although, mind you, that can and does change and my grr often emerges). This morning I had a teeny little woodpecker hopping around the branches of one of the trees and drumming his little beak into the wood looking for yummies. The finches and sparrows were fighting over the last few morsels left in the bird feeder (which buy the way I just filled day before yesterday…hungry little guys). I have enjoyed getting to know their names – the titles that we humans have given them. My bird-identification enthusiasm was somewhat quelled a few weeks ago as I was reading in Eckert Tolle’s “A New Earth” as he was talking about the need we have as humans to name and label things and how that separates us from connection and from understanding (my words, and interpretation). I have been thinking about this, and it is true…my putting a label on that little red-headed dainty bird doesn’t help me to understand that individual presence any better than before I had a name. But reading about what is known about that little guy does help me to understand broadly the species and helps me to talk about him, even in my own mind, with distinction. The title “house finch” does not define that bird by any means, and I do not have to get caught up in the label, as if my understanding of a label completes my understanindg of that animal. The bird doesn’t identify himself as a “house-finch”; and while I do, I also understand that it is not a complete definition and that I do not have to have a complete definition or understanding in order to enjoy his presence at my feeder.

Ah, and on another note, the bald cardinal that I wrote about last year is back in my yard. I do ennjoy him so.

Ego Maelstrom

Ego sweeps in like a storm. So sudden, swift and all-encompassing in its sensory blindness that I am engulfed in forgetfulness, so little is my awareness of the tools I can use to extricate myself. Luckily these days, as overwhelming as these storms are, my blindness is typically short-lived. Eckert Tolle (my own words) speaks of the means to free oneself from the self-hating, self-defeating guile of ego is to engage active Presence. In the midst of the maelstrom’s peak the raging winds of self-flagellation drown out the centered voice of presence.

I just finished reading a novel about Sappho and she (in the fiction) speaks of longing and desire “I want, I want, I want” but not knowing what the wanting is, just wanting to feel fulfilled and feeling instead a vast emptiness. I related well to those passages yesterday.

Thank goddess for a new day and a gradual clearing of the mists that veiled my senses. It is the simple things that brings me back to presence. My morning coffee, the playfulness of my kitties, the feel of the damp earth under my bare feet. Suddenly I can breathe deeper.  I feel hopeful and wonderment again. There is still a lingering sense of sadness, of longing. I long for….what I do not know exactly, or maybe I just can’t quite put it into words. I long to better understand myself, to feel love and acceptance of myself, to find the inner peace that leads to outer peace. I am much closer to that place today. Closer because I am no longer trying to seek that place from a place of desparate wanting that truly does nothing more than lead me further away from peace, further down into the depths of despair and further deficit and feelings of wanting, of lacking, of never being enough. But today I am closer to the stillness and presence where I know that I am enough and that all is well always.

my antidepressants

 

 

 

Post Success Depression

Yesterday I participated in my community’s music and arts festival as an “artist” selling my jewelry. I have never before sold the jewelry I make, I have always made it for myself and for gifts for friends.  The festival went well, and having nothing to compare my experience to, I was most pleased last night after the hubbub of the festival. There were highpoints, and there were low points, but I did make some money and I did get a lot of praise for my creations and overall I felt pretty good about my day.

That was last night. For some reason this morning I feel dejected and struggle with feelings of low self-worth. I feel uninspired, dull and generally not artsy or creative. I find myself thinking that the only reason I made any money was because of the purchases of friends who were “being nice”. I find myself thinking that they and other persons who bought my jewelry will later regret their purchases. Despite a part of me that says all of these feelings are ridiculous and that I should feel better about myself, I just generally feel gloomy. I did an inventory to see if that would make me feel better – and (excluding earrings which I sold very few) I sold about half of what I presented. That seems pretty good.  And yet I feel like curling into bed and hiding my head.

What is up with that? I am writing this out in a effort to understand it myself. It seems like I “should” be happily riding on the waves of a successful venture. And yet I doubt myself and mercilessly scoff at myself and my aspirations at labeling myself an artist. Who am I kidding?

Perhaps it is the gloomy day. Perhaps it is that I looked on Etsy last night and compared myself and found myself lacking. (I am thinking about creating an etsy shop to sell the rest of my jewelry). Perhaps it is simply my ego trying to keep me from enjoying my success. Perhaps it is a delusional side effect of the sunburn I received yesteray.

and I say blech.