ABAW 2011: To Update and Complete

When I last posted, I had reached 26 books read.  Thought I'd bring this last challenge up to date as I've pretty much sucked at all the others...I divided my readings into sections and went ahead and included some works in progress.  I didn't quite make it to my goal but wow, so close.  Also - apologies for the layout, I couldn't get any of this quite right, but wanted to just get it out there and done so I can start a new year.

Running:

27

28

33

I've been reading quite a bit about running and I enjoy it immensely.  I'm not a good runner at all, but I love the meditation of it and wish I could be a long distance runner if I could devote the time to commit to it (and if my knees could tolerate it - perhaps I should switch to barefoot running!).  I love hearing the stories these athletes tell, and how running becomes a symbol for how they live their lives.

The book by Murakami was one I listened to over my iPhone on a long Fall drive to NY to pick up my husband.  I love Murakami's books, and was hopeful about this one.  I was so pleased to hear his meditative thoughts, our shared experiences running in Boston and how he equates running to writing.  I wish I owned this, as many phrases would be underlined with exclamation points.  Born to Run is just cool. 

Fiction:

34

31

I thought reading fiction would be the easiest way to go to crank through some books quickly, but I ended up having a hard time finding fiction I enjoyed.  For example, Disgrace slowed me down a lot because frankly, it was terribly upsetting and after being a therapist all day, I wanted fluff.  (Not to put anyone off Disgrace - apparently its being made into or is a movie, and comments on important issues in South Africa).  So damn it, I enjoy me a Sophie Kinsella book.  Sue me.  And I can't wait to read the next Matched book.   That's great post-apocalyptic fluff.  Also - I've been catching a lot of my reading on my rides home from work.  Which is bringing down my stress levels, making me a much nicer driver.  Thank you Boston Public Library.

37

29

40

41

 




 Non-Fiction:

35

36

44 - unfinished

Three Cups of Tea is simply amazing.  The Doors, eh.  I should finish Predictably Irrational tonight, and am loving it.  Good stuff about how we make decisions.






Therapy:

30

32

45 - Unfinished

All books are very good.  I already use the Child's Mind information with some of the kids I work with (although I wish I had a big office with bean bag chairs and fluffy pillows to really teach meditation and relaxation to kids!). 

  



Books on Creativity:

46 - Unfinished

47 - Unfinished

I just don't want to finish either book, so I haven't!











Books on Fertility, Pregnancy Planning & PCOS (and no, I'm not pregnant):

38

39

This has been a tough year for me.  One of the main reasons why I stopped blogging was my difficulty dealing with issues around infertility.  I know, I know, blogging could have helped.  I wasn't there.  Sorry.

I've been to two specialists, and finally have a diagnosis that has helped explain a lot of things, and has given me many questions.  I have lots of feelings about doctors, and many really terrible ones about not being able to get pregnant. And lots of shame around it.  I can't tell if I'm rejecting medical interventions because I think there are other solutions that are healthier, or if I'm just not accepting my diagnosis, or perhaps, most likely both.

But if I have to explain to one more person that having this question and trying to answer this question in no way impacts my desire to get pregnant; I'm just sad that it doesn't come as easily as any other woman.  I also wish people would just sit with me in my grief, instead of offering platitudes about God's timing and stress and me being ready.  Bite me, that crap is bull.

I'd be the best mom ever.  I just have insulin irregularities that cause my hormones to go out of wack.  When those hormones are out of wack, my body doesn't do what its supposed to do during the monthly cycle.  If willing and wishing could make things happen, well.  But I've got to get there, and soon!

42

43

33

ABAW: 22 - 26

A long, long month.  I have no idea how I've kept reading.  But here it is. 

I swear I thought Nora Roberts wrote more supernatural stuff.  This was not that at all.  Something about love, cougars, and a psychotic dude.  Eh. 

The next book was quite lovely and made me all moody and teary.  About the daughter of a man with major chronic depression.  She seeks to understand how her genetics influence who she is, and ends up completely off path, numb from her feelings.

I finally finished the Happiness Project, which to be honest was so-so.  I enjoyed the beginning, the conceptualization of her project and the outlining of her intent.  I did not like when she started to include blogger comments, and then didn't integrate them at all.  And how she would do some tasks in a half assed way, and give herself credit for them.  I guess I didn't connect with the person I was reading about.  Or maybe I'm just cranky.  Nah - I wanted her to go deeper, and I felt she just kept skimming the surface of things. 

Perhaps that's the thing with our search for happiness:  I believe its just a fleeting feeling in the midst of a hundred other ones, all equally valid and rich.  When we make happiness into a project, we further remove ourselves from the real feeling and instead make it into a task to complete.  Even now I am thinking of the many projects I've started and not completed, of my true priorities, of how I spend my time, and what I want from it.  And with that, steps further and further from the rawness of my feelings.

Things are tricky right now.  I'm taking on many more responsibilities at work, which requires me to fully understand what I do, be able to communicate it, and also puts me at risk for increased criticism, which I hate.  I'm also learning so much.  And getting angry at myself for not being further in my career, for not making more money, for lots of dumb things that come up when I compare myself to others.  I recognize I have something there to process, and I'm not at all.  I know I'm changing exponentially daily, each week brings a slightly different me, altered by what I am doing in a way that I am unrecognizable to myself. 

One thing I have learned is that I am a pretty scrappy gal.  I am self-sufficient, I make due with nothing, and ask for less.  While I'm proud of that, maybe that's not the smartest way to operate.  Maybe I need to ask for more - a lot more.  I need to reconceptualize how I see "work", and I desperately need to figure out why I am addicted to work.  Lie:  I know why I am addicted, I need to get my own treatment for it.  But I am stuck - I love to learn, to research, to have a billion things to do and think about.  I'm doing the same thing that I critique in the Happiness Project:  I'm actively ignoring my own feelings and shoving myself into a project, hoping its authentic and worthy.

Surely it is?  Right?

Ultimately, its irrelevant.  I should be doing a good job, I should be offering a service that my clients are contracting for.  If I want to get paid more, I need to set up a business and exchange fees appropriate for that service.  I should engage in learning, teaching, consulting.  But I question the undercurrent that I know what is best, that someone knows what is best.  I know there are standards for ethics, legal parameters around confidentiality, and basic codes for treating another human being.  But when do I say enough is enough:  the drugs you are using are killing you, the decisions you are making are tearing your life apart, the way you are treating your partner/child/friends is abusive?  The way you are treating me is abusive.   

And this is where I realize that I myself need some education.  I need to face my own block if I am to offer that level of service I want to offer:  in other words, to move forward in my own project, I have to face my feelings.  And I've got a lot of them, and I don't like them.  I have to speak them, and it feels out of control and reminds me of the vast, cavernous empty places that we all have, that we all fill as best we can.  But I do know that speaking of them, staring them in their apparent infiniteness, makes them diminish and disappear.  And so I'm ready.

And those other books?  I figured I should be giving myself credit for all those 'dry' books I read.  I'm working my way through a big stack, learning how to be a better supervisor (or to quell my anxiety).  One thing that sticks out to me is that I need to be so very aware of the dynamics and influences of others, both actively connecting to and then moving past my own responses.  This job, it forces me to think so very deeply, and like water wearing down stone, alters me.  I keep asking, "is it worth it?"

I keep waiting for something to tug at me from another direction, watching for something to help me make sense of it all.  I keep noticing all these little white feathers that seem to find their way right where my feet step and wondering where they come from.  I wonder who will I be at the other end?  Its rushing by so fast, I want to dig my heels in and stop it.  But the rush, the rush I like.  After this speed, slowing down is just too slow.  And there is the sickness.  So I focus on the signs, the reasons, the excuses, and press a little harder on the gas.

ABAW: 20 & 21

My husband and I have been watching this British TV series, Survivors.  I love me anything apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic, although it freaks the hell out of me, and gives me nightmares.  Especially zombie nightmares, ugh.  This one is a relief:  no zombies.   

I've been feeling a bit down lately, wanting things that don't seem to be working out, and feeling like time is just slipping away.  My priorities seem one way in one situation, and completely different in another.  I start making plans to march one direction and then get confused, wonder what I was thinking, and become stalemated. 

I want nothing to do with this computer, although I keep looking towards it remembering what I was involved in, but it doesn't seem quite right.  I've dropped my art projects.  I feel winter coming, even though its months away. 

Is this depression?  I'm a therapist, I should know, but when I'm in it, I never quite know. 

And this damn job, why do I keep doing it?  When I'm there, its all encompassing; when I'm away, its meaningless and risky.  It feels like a false purpose that doesn't fill me up when I'm out of the running. 

We all just want meaning and purpose in our lives, connections with other people, to use our best selves to make a contribution while being accepted for our basic selves.  I spend a lot of time doing that for others, but don't seem to really have it for myself.  I need sunshine, time, breathing space, family, my love.  Balance.

Tomorrow I get more testing done to figure out what is up with my hormones, and to see if we can get any closer to having a baby.   I'm afraid:  of my potential as mother, for the health of this baby, for my relationship, and mostly for the possibility of no baby, and so I march forward.

ABAW: 19

I'm sitting here this evening watching "Its Kinda A Funny Story," a movie about a teenager who spends a week on an inpatient unit after feeling suicidal, and, of course, not only makes a big impact on the other patients and falls in love with the girl, but is able to start finding happiness. I like it, I'm not going to lie. But its definitely not like that. Perhaps that's the message: be incredibly thankful and give back.

I've been thinking a lot about how to connect my clients to community, to create something bigger than this day to dayness of therapy, something lasting that gives back. Something big. Something that allows all parts to be involved in their most impactful ways. I met a girl today who sparked this idea to start a magazine, to have editors and writers and art, lots of it, drawings, photography. How? And then I keep thinking about the blandness of our waiting room, and the absolute necessity of a mural there. How? An open studio. An art show. Mentors, jobs, places where people fit. How?

I know this blog is growing quieter and quieter, but something big is developing.  A shift to a new site perhaps, a different type of blogging, I'm not sure.  I wish I could describe the feeling of what is happening in the dark recesses of my brain, like tumblers in a lock falling into place.  

ABAW: 17 & 18

Every once in awhile I get overwhelmed by the bigness of things.  And on the flip side, I give myself big, almost impossible tasks, set goals really high, and usually meet them (that's a big thing I just admitted there!).  But I still get overwhelmed.  And then I pull back, withdraw, beat myself up until I finally get back in the game.  Sometimes it feels strategic:  when I pull back, I seem to come up with a new, better, clearer way of approaching this impossible task I've subjected myself to.  At least, that's how I'm spinning it.

Lately I've been thinking about the enormity of the blogosphere.  There are so many voices, so many posts, so many links.  My brain ceased to be able to take it in.  I certainly couldn't keep up with my reader, much less give comments, or do the challenges I signed myself up for.  I didn't want to touch my computer.  And then I realized I was overwhelmed by the channels on the TV, the items I had DVR'd, the items I had on my Netflix list.  And then there is my pile of books.  And the ideas I have and tasks I've given myself to do in my art making.  Nothing could touch the to do list I have at work.  I'm overwhelmed.  Completely totally overwhelmed.  Maybe this is me realizing what depression looks like for me, as its descending.  Usually I don't know until I'm in the black and I just have to ride it out.

But I've been doing some thinking, and some art making, and its still important to me to post it here.  And I've been doing mega-thinking about what I want to do with this space:  I feel like I can't share it because of my job.  But I want to start developing a professional persona, building my business so that I have more control and do the work I want to do without being completely buried under paperwork.  And I have this voice I've discovered.  I want to share my own lived experience. 

So I'm thinking.  Apologies for the absence, but I needed it. 

And for this Book A Week challenge I've set for myself:  I've read 17 books so far, but 28 weeks have gone by.  I have so many half read books, stacks and piles.  And wow, I'm reading some amazing books. 

21: Becoming Brave

I thought I'd share another one of my projects completed under the tutelage of the brilliant teachers at 21 Secrets, an series of online art journaling workshops.  This latest was called Becoming Brave, and we were guided through the creation of a small tabbed journal.  Images and thoughts below...but first, I thought I'd share my own steps towards Becoming Brave:  First,  I added a profile image on this website, primarily because I needed one for an interview I did about art therapy and art journaling.  And second, I did an interview!  Do read it here, I'm hella proud. 

Each of the following pages were cut out of cardstock, and are tabbed.  The left image is the front, and the right image is the back.  I made holes and tied a gold string through the holes (see image above).  Blank pages can be inserted between the tabs for journaling, and the project can be modified easily for any sections you wanted.  Love the idea of breaking up your journaling into sections.  Me, I have a birthday coming up and so I wanted to identify my goals for my new year.

fearless in ... BODY

I've mentioned before that something is seriously screwy with my hormones, and I'm really struggling to get my body regulated, and trying to find a doctor to help seems so very hard.   I want to get strong, be healthy and find good answers about my body, but I am most afraid to speak up when it comes to dealing with medical issues.

I primed this one with lots of purple paint, added an image transfer of a woman's body - and you can see the words "feeling hormonal."  This transfer was absolutely beautiful, it had a soft purple-y glow.  Then this image of the perfect Barbie - I look at her and hate her.  On the flip side of this page, I included an image of a woman doing planks - I love planks!  More words.

fearless in ... WORK

Work is so ridiculously overwhelming.  I'm having a hard time letting old concepts about work go (running a race that is not worth running) - there is something much more fundamental about what I have to offer.  And I don't think its being appreciated or rewarded, and so I am trying to not only find the inherent value in what I do but advocate for it.  Maybe from here, I'll figure out my next step.

On the back, I found this image of a ward of sick people, all staring at the camera, and covered it with an image of paintbrushes.  On the front, I found this cave painting - I did a thick matte medium on it to do an image transfer.  And added the words.

fearless in ... LOVE

I hold my relationship precious.  Right now, it is him and me.  I want us to build a nest together.  I want there to be one more.  

For this one, I did an image transfer of the birds in the hand, and wrapped it around the square.  As I was doing all the image transfers, they picked up paint from the table I was working on, and look so darn cool.  The image was so strong, and the colors just right - I added the words, and drew a little picture.

fearless in ... LIFE

This is one I still don't get completely (art making is awesome like that).  If you start at the back, there is an image of a fish jumping out of its pond, and the phrase "the how, and when of making it happen", leaping towards the front of the image which has a pile of books, all on a background of lush mountainside.  I know I am plotting a move, I know that I want many things to happen, but I'm not sure how to do any of it.  I also know I have this secret dream of getting my PhD....

ABAW:14-16

Maybe you've noticed that I've been missing.  Maybe not - gosh, I wish I knew more about who was reading and why.  I apologize, I'm just not a pre-planned poster.  This is what you get!

My husband and I had the luck to be invited to a wedding located in the Florida Keys, a place on my bucket list!  I've always wanted to see that arm of islands stretching out into the blue sea.  It was a lovely trip, one in which we reconnected, I relaxed a tiny bit, and we again fantasized about moving somewhere warmer.  I would die happy if I could live next to the beach.

Before I left, I worked crazy long hours just trying to get damn paperwork done.  I didn't get to make art, I didn't get to read, I just stayed late, I came home and did more work.  Every time I'm in it, I love it.  I feel invigorated, invested, dedicated, and yes, exhausted.  I wrap myself up in the intensity of the adrenaline, coaxing more and more out of my adrenal glands, knowing I'm paying a price.  I step away, and I realize that its crazy.  What the hell am I doing?

And then I think about all the things I know, and how being an adult child of an alcoholic influences this tendency to overwork, to have poor boundaries.  Then I disregard this, and slip right back into the comfortable insanity of being a overworked, underpaid and ridiculously idealistic therapist.  I make promises to myself to be more balanced, and then I find six hours of work in my bag to come home with me.  I bend my rules and schedule an early appointment here and a late appointment there, and think about the extra money and being needed.  My husband begins to question what happened to the brief period where I was coming home semi-on time.  I make jokes, but I feel like an a-hole. 

I don't know how to change it.  Right now, there is a part of me that absolutely loves what I am doing.  Actually a huge part.  Its fulfilling something for me, healthy or not.  But I also love making art, and writing, and reading, and I am not really doing those at all.  Am I avoiding those things?  Or do I really genuinely love what I am doing?  It seems the moment I stop to reflect, and possibly make a change, I entangle myself further.

Perhaps the question is really about what change I would actually make.  I can't think of anything more fulfilling and thought provoking, developing these strangely intimate and yet terribly separate relationships, full of meaning and frustration, pushing agonizingly through and wishing upon hope for change. 

Right before I left for vacation, I was so overworked that I felt vulnerable, my heart hurt, my poor boundaries were leading to poorer boundaries.  A good friend recommended visualizing closing the energy to my heart (the heart chakra), much like a flower closing at night.  And she's right, it works:  I need distance, balance, fulfillment.

Over vacation, I was able to read a bunch.  I loved the titles for these books:  Saving the World, When She Flew and What Was Lost.  Maybe I reached for these because they fit so well.  Maybe they reached for me.  And I feel oddly vulnerable as I post this - I've put it off wondering why I do this blog at all.  I'm not sure. 

Scavenger Hunt

This was a great photo weekend (aren't those the best?!) - we drove to NY to visit my husband's family and wow, I could have stayed another month just to take pictures.  Plus, they're pretty awesome people too. 

I've been experimenting with trying to capture sun flares - and received some great advice from Snapshots by Michele that I had to try out.   I stared at the sun a bit too much to be healthy, but discovered that I can do magical things just by changing my f-stops.

 1. SOOC - We were coming home from hiking and found this beautiful bird (crane? egret?) on the side of the road.  I used my big lens (aka Canon EF-S 55-250 mm). 

G2W: 17 (Edits) Growth

Another week of Good to Wow, where Jill of Jill Samter Photography guides us to take better SOOC photos and Ashley of Ramblings and Photos teaches us how to be better photo editors.

This week's prompt:  Growth.

My fella and I have been outside as much as possible lately, hiking through the woods and enjoying the beginning of spring.  I've been admiring all the photos that other bloggers take of buds, branches, trees and flowers, and keep trying to master them.  And so I've been taking a ton of these photos!

My edits this week are sweet and simple:  I ran all of Ashley's recommendations, and then played with some of the actions I have in PS.  Rats, and I don't remember what I did on the first one.  Hmm, see, this is why I don't write tutorials (and have all the admiration in the world for you all who do, thank you!)

21: Child's Play and Abstract Adventure

I stumbled on this amazing community of women who make gorgeous art, and was compelled when they announced an online art journaling course called 21 Secrets.  There is something wickedly decadent about the title, and the course is even better.  I wasn't sure at first (I didn't want to watch videos), and frankly, I can't keep up.  Each class could easily stand on its own and provide months of creative fodder.  The videos are awesome, and I'm totally inspired. And of course, I wanted to share what I've been up to...

G2W: 17 (SOOC) Growth

Aw man (and yes, I just wrote aw man!), I haven't been able to do all of the photography challenges I've been following along with - I think I've missed three weeks.  What have I been up to?  I have no clue:  maybe trying to keep ahead of everything, catching up at work (why are there times when I fall so far behind but nothing has really changed?), and maybe just taking a general creative break.

I've started to make some minor changes to my blog, and hope for bigger ones soon.  Its past time to pretty it up, and I'd like to make the site more welcoming to those of you who are kind enough to stop in.  As always, thank you.

Scavenger Hunt

Woo hoo!  This weekend, I took lots of great photos and seem to have enough for the Scavenger Hunt this week!  I didn't do too much editing, just the basics in Lightroom and put 'em up here!  That's a lot of exclamation points!  

1. Architecture

April Reverb: What's blossoming?: Catching Up

It doesn't hurt me.  You wanna feel how it feels?
You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?
You wanna hear about the deal I'm making?
You be running up that hill, you and me be running up that hill

Every once in awhile, I fall behind. All the things I was trying to pay attention to are placed to the side, and I have to pay attention to the practical things - catching up at work, spending good time with my husband (he gets so neglected and needs tending to), beginning our house search (again), cleaning. Ptooey to cleaning.  Getting our finances in order.  Finding money where there is none.  Paying taxes.  Coordinating schedules.  Staying late at work.  Again.  Finding ways to see our families while working overtime to make a little extra.  Maybe, hopefully.

And if I only could, make a deal with God, and get him to swap our places, 
Be running up that road, be running up that hill, be running up that building.  
If I only could, oh...

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.  And here is my big brave statement: I can't do it all.  Why is such a small silly statement so hard to say?  The problem is that I feel compelled to do as many things as possible because I am not happy with the way I spend the majority of my time.   It feels like I have to do triple to be fulfilled at the end of the day.  But its a reality, and that's just the way it is.  So I'll do what I can, and that's that.   I'm not quite sure why I'm saying all this but I suppose I feel guilty for not posting anything here.  This blog is terribly important to me, as are all the photography challenges and art journaling projects I've been able to follow along with through this community.  And I feel guilty to myself.  I have harbored this mind set that I am supposed to be of service, but lately I've just been feeling like an idiot.  I can be of service, and still make a decent living, and not drown in paperwork, and constantly scramble to keep things together, right?  Is that selfish?  I can never tell.  Perhaps it is:  I am deciding that to do the things I want to do, I may have to be selfish, and that's how that is.  Unfortunately.

You don't wanna hurt me, but see how deep the bullet lies.
Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder, there's a thunder in our hearts, baby.
So much hate for the ones we love? Tell me, we both matter, don't we?
You, be running up that hill, you and me, be running up that hill, you and me won't be unhappy.

This past weekend brought my favorite holiday - Patriot's Day, aka Marathon Monday!   This day is the best do-nothing holiday ever.  We don't have to do a damn thing and we get off of work.  And even better, over 20,000 people run past our apartment while college students scream all day long until they are too drunk and trickle away.  Its awesome.

I run a teeny part of the marathon route every week, and I've been watching the athletes train, sharing a little of their dedication to fuel my own mini-practice.   On the morning of the marathon, I couldn't help but take that run again.  On the quiet carriage path that runs parallel to the race route, I silently ran past hundreds of people, waiting in vigil for the first few elite runners.  I ran up the infamous Heartbreak Hill (albeit without the 20 previous miles that make it so painful), and watched families playing ball, parties being set up, rich entrepreneurial kids setting up lemonade stands, and the infamous organized sororities screaming before runners were even out of the gates, jumping up and down with their copy shop printed signs.  And I got choked up.

And if I only could, make a deal with God, and get him to swap our places, 
Be running up that road, be running up that hill, be running up that building, 
If I only could, oh...

When we moved here, we didn't know we lived on the marathon race route.  We used to get run down by the leagues of joggers that dominate these sidewalks, and laugh at them.  We were walkers, meanders.  We sat, we didn't run, and took pride in our excuse making.  The first marathon was an amazing experience:  and now we've seen five of them so far.  At the end of every one, we would say "hey maybe we should run!" and return to the couch.  So much time wasted.

The marathon marks the beginning of Spring in Boston, a significant moment for me and my seasonal depression (which has been a non-issue this winter, thanks to running).  And there is no escape from the cheers, they reach into every corner of our apartment.  There is no choice but to wander the streets, and grow inspired by the racers.  And unwittingly, become a convert.

C'mon, baby, c'mon, c'mon, darling, let me steal this moment from you now.
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling, let's exchange the experience, oh...
And if I only could, make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places, be running up that road, be running up that hill, with no problems 

I've been running for almost a year now, and, in case I haven't blathered on about it enough:  it has changed me.  I am calmer, more focused, fitter, stronger, healthier, I feel better about myself, my relationship, how I do my job.  I'm not depressed.  Wow, reread that line again, because I didn't think it was possible.  I can't begin to explain how that feels, and how angry I am at myself that I didn't do this a long time ago.

So here I am beating myself up for the things I am not able to do, but I forget all the things I've stuck with and continue to do.  I also forget all the little steps it takes to make changes.  And never mind all the other little lessons:  the difficulty I have in pacing myself for the long run, how I just want to sprint really fast and run past everyone, but I run out of air and give up.  How to hold myself strong, how to fight against the power of my negative thoughts, how to breathe evenly, how to set expectations and how to exceed them.  Now all I need to do is work up the nerve to sign up for a 5K...

And as for what's blossoming:  I'm emerging from winter with a clearer head than I've ever had, I'm constantly working on art projects, we're going to travel a lot this summer, and today we put an offer down on a long-shot of a house.  Hmm, and as I complete the final edits on this post, I realize that maybe the answer to the prompt is me.  

Lyrics from Running Up That Hill, Placebo (or Kate Bush)
Marathon photos altered with TiltShift
Prompt from reverb10.com

March Reverb: Last Month / WITW

 

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine, and my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come thru the music, would you hold it near as it were your own?

Bear with me, like everything, I'm a bit late on the posting but full of good intentions.  I've been following this online initiative led by some incredibly thoughtful bloggers to encourage thinking and planning towards the development of personal goals to manifest them into becoming real.  I'm a huge fan.  They deliver monthly prompts right to your inbox that you can use for thinking, journaling, art making, and you can sign up here. 

I've been using these prompts as an opportunity to gather my thoughts and piece them together with photos taken during the month.  I think it will be cool to look back on at the end of the year.  And on to the prompt...

It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken, perhaps they're better left unsung.
I don't know, don't really care. Let there be songs to fill the air.
Ripple in still water, when there is no pebble tossed, nor wind to blow.

If March 2011 was your last month to live, how would you live it?

This one is a question I periodically think about, and have been more so lately.  I'm watching friends buy houses, have babies, set up lives.  I have my education, my job, and I am certain I must make a difference in my little way.  But I need something more meaningful.  I want to make a ripple.  I want my existence to mean something.  I want a house and babies.  I want to travel the world.  I want to work with and reach as many people as possible.  Which I'm not sure I've actually thought out loud before. 

Its not possible at this time to do all of those things.  So I'm constantly compromising one for the other.  Each choice requires a gamble that plays on the odds that I have more rather than less time, that my husband and I will remain able to work, we will keep our jobs and our physical health.  On a daily basis, I learn from my clients that this gamble does not always pay off.  A hiccup can mean debt, loss, profound changes in the way you function in the world.  The first order of business for many is surviving. 

For me, I am lucky that surviving means getting up and going to work, paying my bills and putting gas in the car, buying groceries and calling my mom.  Kissing my husband, making art, keeping up with my paperwork.  If I'm able to keep doing this, I'm doing good. 

But then if I'm gambling for the long term, what am I sacrificing and what am I really working towards?  I don't have a retirement plan.  And as much as well meaning souls point out that I am young and "still have time" - I turn 34 this year, and I'd like to have babies soon.  We drop all our money into rent and student loans, with no hope of much of a pay raise.  Imagine the tough conversations occurring in our tiny apartment:  we have had some serious arguments and much needed reality checking recently.  I don't have any answers to this right now.  Just an odd sense of a priority shift, and a realization that we may have waited too long for some things that are deeply meaningful to us.

So that's all a real downer, eh?  I have fun answers, I promise! 

If this was my last month, I would go bowling, skydiving, base jumping, climb some mountains, ride in a hot air balloon, travel the world, make some art, go through all my stuff in storage and throw it all away (or donate it!).  I would go to a beach and spend good time with my husband.  I would sell everything.  I would wear flip flops and t-shirts, and laugh a lot.  I wouldn't bother with makeup and blow drying my hair.  I'd sign the forms to donate my body to science.  I'd eat cupcakes and cheeseburgers.  Anything that took too much time, I'd say, "I only have a month, I ain't got time for this."  I would say what I meant, I would tell people how I feel.  I would mourn all the things I couldn't do, all the books I couldn't read, and the babies I didn't get the chance to have.  I would say good goodbyes.  I would dance to the Grateful Dead, and drive long distances late at night with all the windows down and eighties music blaring.  I would be fearless.

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty, if your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain, that was not made by the hands of men.
There is a road, no simple highway, between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow, that path is for your steps alone.

And I have one little update...

Walking in this World
I started reading the book Walking in this World by Julia Cameron, and following along with a small online group, writing my daily journal entries, facilitating my artist dates, and taking time for walks and wanderings.  This all took a lot of time ... and then the small group disappeared (and has since picked up with limited explanation).  So I was left with questioning if this is something that I want to spend my time doing.  The daily writing was a chore, but it did organize my thoughts and helped me keep on target for the next day.  Everything else was a practice I already had in place, so that is not going anywhere.  But reading and synthesizing the activities from the book is tough to do week to week. 

Over this past year, I've made it a point to try as many things as possible, and push myself as far as I can.  And I want to share what I do with others.   And I want it to have meaning.  I want the things that I spend my time doing to mean something, and come together into something greater.  I keep hoping that it will.  Sometimes I feel angry that I don't have time for these things.   But the truth is, I ain't got time for this.

So I am deciding to stop doing this one indefinitely. 

Ripple in still water, when there is no pebble tossed, nor wind to blow.
You who choose to lead must follow, but if you fall you fall alone, 

If you should stand then whos to guide you?  If I knew the way I would take you home. 

- Ripple, Grateful Dead

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