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

Reverb
http://www.reverb10.com/

February Reverb

On a winter Sunday I go to clear away the snow and green the ground below

April, all an ocean away.  Is this the better way to spend the day? Keeping the winter at bay

What were the words I meant to say before you left?

When I could see your breath lead where you were going to

Maybe I should just let it be and maybe it will all come back to me

During the month of December (and in my typical style, overflowing into January), I followed along with daily prompts through reverb10.  Each prompt was aimed to stimulate your reflection over the past year, and to set goals for the new.  The folks at reverb are sending out monthly prompts to keep the thinking going.   

February's Prompt is:

One month into 2011, what question(s) are you living?   Are there any prompts/questions that arose during #reverb10 that are still resonating in your life?  Are you living new questions?

I realized that even though I followed through all of the daily prompts, I hadn't been quite as specific as I meant to be in setting goals.  I will say that going through the prompts made it possible for me to move firmly into this new year.  And I like the way things are going.  I've set aside a lot of things that were very bothersome during the year, and am more and more focused on now, the present, and me.  With pride, I share that this is the first year of my life (or at least my life in Boston) that I have not felt like I was going to die midway through winter from seasonal depression.  And I am trying on what it means to be an artist and an art therapist while feeling stronger and more centered in my body and thoughts.

I still think about the idea that we each have a Core Story:  this blog has served as a way to start bringing all these lose pieces together and I'm really starting to feel like a more unified, cohesive whole instead of my scattered, jack-of-all-trades, directionless self.

Also Achieve:  I secretly set the goal of having twenty kind readers follow me and when I checked today, I had sixteen.  Sixteen!  You all rock!  Thank you for taking a risk, and a minute on me.  I appreciate it more than I could ever express.

I still think about if I made a mistake about not taking the job.  I worry that I chose the right One Word.  That is just me, I worry.  And finally, I was really taken by the tool, New Years Goal Questions for No Goals Creatives, which ultimately asks what does your best self yearn to do, what is your best self called to do?  I'm still trying to hear the answer to that question.  Maybe if I could get past all the worry and just be.

My question now is:   

How do I incorporate as much art into my life as possible, and how do I share it?  

I am following intuition a lot lately, following signs, taking cues from the universe.  If I can fit it in, I will try to.  But I recognize that I will be taking a new risk soon, and I wonder how to prepare for it, whatever it is!  Thank you for reading and viewing.

 

How I lived a childhood in snow and all my teens in tow, stuffed in strata of clothes

Pale the winter days after dark,  wandering the gray memorial park, a fleeting beating of hearts
What were the words I meant to say before she left?
When I could see her breath lead where she was going to
Maybe I should just let it be and maybe it will all come back to me

January Hymn, the Decemberists