Apologies in advance if this is longer than interesting and sort of rambling… I’m short on sleep today, and although I am in good spirits and feeling decently human, I’m tired to the point of near-numbness, and brevity will be a challenge. 🙂

It was some strange noise that woke me, found out this morning it was a partner’s alarm; a voice reminder. The alarm itself was not exactly ‘alarming’ (lol – yeah, one of those days)…the burst of activity, noise, and excitement associated with shutting it off was much more so, and since I didn’t actually know what it was all about, I lay awake a long while wondering and listening to the sounds of the house.  Sleep was not happening. Yoga happened. Meditation happened. Breathing exercises happened. Having a stretch and getting some fresh air happened. Taking something to help me sleep happened. Some of those things happened more than once. Sleep did not, at least not for a long while. Generally, when I have difficulty sleeping my brain takes merry advantage of my human frailties to closely examine all my insecurities, fears, self-doubt, abandoned dreams, moments of misunderstanding, bits of weirdness that distress or sadden me, miscommunications, and an assortment of troubling feelings that seem vaguely irrational, even in the wee hours.  Last night was no exception, except in this regard; I eventually wound my way through my consciousness to an interesting moment of understanding that was worth being awake for, and it originated in a misunderstanding (I thought, initially) of who I am as an artist.

For the sake of letting you get on with your day, and still getting this out there, I’ll skip to the ‘moment of understanding’.  I am understanding that the question ‘Who am I?’ is difficult because I am an extraordinary and very individual sum of experiences, choices, consciousness and will that continuously grows and changes – as is everyone else. We may share some portion of our life with other individuals, but for how long, and with how many, is yet another “who am I?” complication.  My life, thus far, measures about 49 years, nearly 50… my current partners and I have been together for less than 4 of those years. Their exposure to the “who am I?” of years before we met is limited to what I’ve said, what they’ve heard from other sources, and whatever limited documentation exists on the internet, in my art, or in my personal papers; their view of “who I am” is not ever going to be the same as my own – or even the same as the view of “who I am” that someone who knew me in a very different time in my life may have. That’s really it. I thought about that all night long… slicing my life by era, by relationship, by artistic period, by trauma-timeline, by key decision-making point… I looked at me from a variety of angles and perspectives… I found more to like and to love that I expected, honestly (it’s been a hard year for my self-esteem), and that felt pretty good.  So good, actually, that I managed a good mood out of a very small amount of sleep.

My thoughts took me back again and again to the negative way I sometimes filter my experiences as a human being.  (As an aside, I have a friend who is extraordinarily negative, especially about himself.  I can easily see the damage it does to him, and how it affects his experience. He can’t see it so easily, and often firmly states he is ‘being rational’. How is this relevant? I do it myself. Hit myself hard with what hurts most, give myself no compassion or room to learn through error, and endlessly berate myself for how much I suck at whatever… when, actually, much of the time I’m okay as human primates go. 😀 )  I realized, specifically, that I did myself and someone I love a great disservice through this negative filtering, too.  Some time ago, someone very dear to me pointed out the utter necessity for me to learn to ‘take care of me’, to learn to love myself, or I would be at risk of hurting others, or finding myself facing difficulties in my relationships. (All true.) He then, from my vantage point deep in the well of a negative filter, pulled way back emotionally and withdrew from me; his support, encouragement and coaching (here comes the filter) ‘because he didn’t really want to be with some broken creature like me’. Wow. How hurtful to both of us that thinking was!  As I finally started to find sleep this morning, it occurred to me that perhaps he hadn’t ‘withdrawn’ from me in some act of avoidance, that he may have been demonstrating an incredible depth of love – and support – by refusing to impose his will, his values, his understanding or his way of doing things, on someone he loves a great deal – and would like to continue to love as a whole, healthy, free will individual of her own making. That’s pretty powerful.  It is thinking I find value in… although I admit I am hesitant to ask for clarification, because like any other human being I am afraid to be hurt by finding out which is true.  Progress is good, though, and I think it’s high time I stop berating myself for being human, and maybe try to just enjoy the ride. 🙂

So…difficult night, good day. I don’t know where it will take me, but I’m feeling pretty comfortably me as I find out.