Week Four

I'm a little stunned, I guess. I had a productive week. For awhile I wanted to only focus on what I was still doing that I thought I shouldn't be - the (moderate) TV watching, the (occassional) hair pulling, the (relatively short) can't-stand-it-anymore tantrum of self-harm. But the truth is that I did less of all these things than usual, in addition to cutting out all reading and all internet. I missed the blogs and the feeling of connection, but I wrote overdue letters to other friends. By and large, I used my time much better than I thought I'd be able to, better than I have in a long long time.

I did the tasks. I cleaned and organized all my closets and drawers, decisively purging any item that resonated with the idea of low self-esteem (which yielded a half a black garbage bag full of giveaway). I revived an odd little room that I half-heartedly dubbed "the meditation room" when we bought the house, but then promptly neglected and allowed to become an overflow unroom full of unworn clothing, empty boxes and cat litter. Now it's a lovely little space, comfortable and quiet and sunny. The huge upholstered rocking chair that my grandmother rocked my father in may be in desperate need of reupholstering, but now it has a comfy and attractive slip-cover facsimile and a silky green chenille blanket thrown over it. There's a nice thick rug. The special photographs and other items are dusted and rearranged with fresh attention in a little altar on top of a bookshelf. There are some lovely white tulips up there at the moment, too. And if I needed any outside confirmation that it's a lovely space, the cats have obliged by spending long nappy hours in there since decorating day.

The idea that creativity is a spiritual issue (is that how she puts it?) has significance to me. In fact, I may be wondering whether my musical creativity is ever going to awaken from its stubborn slumber, but I feel so spiritually aligned and so willing to do the work of reclaiming my full self, as best I can and no matter how that may manifest, that the hows and whens and whats barely matter to me today at all.

But come to think of it, the reading for week 5 really stirred up some wild wildest dreams. Oh dear. (*fanning myself*) Lordy. Let's just say it's clear my dream to be a performing singer and musician is not dead. You guys think I write everything here? Whatever comes into my head? Well guess what - I don't. Wonder if I'll muster the courage to acknowledge these insights out loud at some point. I don't know. But I will take steps. I'll take steps. (Please help me take the steps, God! I'm going under in this heady riptide of possibility and I feel unmoored. Help me ground in process. Let me do what needs doing, but let me rely only on your strength. Mine is just way too spotty.)

I went to see "Brokeback Mountain" as my artist date. Forbidden, impossible, inevitable and essential love. Redemptive love beyond all logic or order. Heart-breaking willingness to show up for what the soul needs. My well is filled.

Looking forward eagerly to catching up with you all...