Archives for posts with tag: be the change

Another morning, another day. The cool air of morning blows through the apartment cooling things off. I feel less hesitant to open the windows having treated the window screens with pyrethrum, and all the door jams, window frames, carpets, nooks, crannies and anything else that seemed treatable, and potentially spider housing. I did much of it last evening, then went for a walk while the vapor hazard dissipated somewhat. Yes, multiple spider bites itch so much that I chose to suspend my preference to avoid household poisons. Now it is a matter of time, and the bites I already have will stop itching and heal.

This itching isn’t inconsequential; it makes me ferociously cross, and almost mad with distraction. I repeatedly consider cancelling my weekend plans, knowing how hard it will be to focus on anything else but this itching…but I am feeling moody, horny, lonely, and the itching itself would benefit from something that could distract me from it. Connecting with human beings outside the office would do me good – I enjoy solitude, but once it cross over to the dark side (loneliness), it becomes a very different experience.

Actual rejection, or mistreatment, may move me to put distance between myself and another human being – but it doesn’t change the very real human need for social contact that I have. The desire to avoid hurting someone who matters greatly to me may also move me to put some distance between me, and that dear one, if I don’t know another course of action, or lack skill at managing whatever the issue is (in this case, for example, this infernal itching). That’s very different from walking away from poor treatment, though, and now that my traveling partner and I live quite separately, maintaining a ‘long distance connection’ skillfully becomes urgently important to me. I know what my needs are…but I would be a fool to assume I know his, aside from what he has explicitly shared. At this particular time in our lives, our differences seem to be more profound that our common ground. This would seem to require careful expectation setting, clear communication, openness, good-natured acceptance, honesty, frankness, humor…and generous helpings of love and encouragement. We’ve both changed over the years, each picked up some baggage of our own – some shared, some very individual. Words on a page don’t do justice to the complex beauty of love. We seem, for now, to need things we are not able to provide for each other. Love needs what it needs to thrive – and so do I, and so does my traveling partner. We’re both very human.

Sometimes this can feel a very lonely journey; we are not alone. <3 Detail of "Communion" 24" x 36" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic, 2011

Sometimes this can feel a very lonely journey; we are not alone. ❤
Detail of “Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic, 2011

My traveling partner matters too much to me to treat him poorly by design, or even predictably; I actively avoid behavior and choices that have that outcome. This weekend that seems to suggest postponing plans to hang out would be wise…and still needing human contact, connection, and companionship I chose to keep plans to have brunch with an old friend, and go to the Farmer’s Market later with a friend who is newer in my experience, both far less likely to be hurt by any irritability or distraction on my part. I managed, somehow, to screw up managing my social life such that my traveling partner may have felt hurt or rejected, instead of valued and respected. I find myself, as a result, teetering on the edge of cancelling all my plans – because hurting someone so dear to me is so uncomfortable I would rather inflict that pain on myself, and simply endure the loneliness.  What are the best practices to practice here?  I know one thing – I am staring directly into the heart of one reason I moved into my own place; I have become so attached to my traveling partner that I have difficulty taking care of me, and this continues to stall my progress in therapy (and life) as I fight myself for control of my experience while I simultaneously try to hand it over to someone who loves me so dearly that he doesn’t want that kind of power. These are issues that are in no way about him, as a person, or about love as an experience – they are at the heart of my chaos and damage, constructs that have existed for so long within my messed up programming that I am often unaware of them as they play out again and again to my detriment. At long last, I am standing on the edge of real wellness, but to get there I am going to have to fight some heavy weight demons, without a sidekick, without a hero riding in to save me, without magical weapons, and probably in incredibly shitty conditions. (Oh, hey, cue the spiders!!)

So…I keep turning the puzzle over in my head…how do I best take care of me today? How do I best take care of love? How do I nurture a long distance connection with consideration and gracious acceptance of circumstances, and still treating myself well? What is enough communication? What is too little? We travel the same distance to see each other, when we do; for me that’s 90 minutes on public transportation, for him that’s 30 minutes in the car. When I consider going to see him, the time and distance have little importance to me. He cautions me in a practical way that he isn’t always going to want to spend half an hour driving to see me, when we discuss making plans for regular time together. I need the planning. He needs the flexibility. We are different people. Hell, he pointed out, himself, that I would benefit from spending more time with other friends, getting out into the world more, doing the things I love more – and all that is true. The truth of it has nothing to do with his emotional experience of not being part of it. He is also having his own experience.

Some of the most important questions I ask myself are questions that he asked me first… Mortality being what it is, I experience doubt – and my demons do their happy dance, and my brain turns the immense power it has to create on me directly.  I worry that these precious minutes are lost, and I grieve with my whole heart for what I don’t have right now…but damn…perspective has its moment to shine, too, and I recognize the incredible wonder and joy I have experienced thus far. It’s a journey. Keeping in mind I am making the map as I go, it’s no great surprise that I have doubts, fears, worries, concerns, heartache…and all in equal and reciprocal measure to the capacity I also have for joy, delight, love, wonder, passion, creativity, and all of it leading me on a student’s path through life’s curriculum. It’s a journey. There is distance to travel, and distance to experience. There is a hearty helping of verbs – and I have to choose those wisely and act upon them with my will. My results are absolutely going to vary – and I’m not in it alone, although I am having my own experience.

...with what matters most. "You Always Have My Heart" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

…with what matters most.
“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

Today I am taking care of me, and hoping that love can be nurtured across distance and that I can learn to do it skillfully. Taking care of me also means allowing my dear ones their own experience, their own emotions, their own choices – without resistance. Taking care of me requires that I experience my own emotions with self-compassion, respect, and consideration, and make my own choices in the best way I can, myself, that meet my needs over time.  A shared journey is not indentured servitude, bondage, or a sentence – it is a choice, made with love. So…now I need to learn not to punish myself for experiences that are not mine. That’s going to take some practice. Learning to listen deeply is critical, and figuring out how to master some control over my injury is tied for first place.

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. :-)

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. 🙂

Today is a good day to practice. Today is a good day to smile in the sunshine and have brunch with a friend. Today is a good day to love from afar and trust that love is, and that loving myself matters, too.

Another lovely morning – I’ve had quite a string of them, and I’m enjoying it without expectations of future such lovely mornings. No dread, I just find it a poor choice to attempt to force the universe and circumstances to comply with my whims by assuming it will be so. It hasn’t worked out well in the past to take that approach. 🙂 I found myself beginning this blog post with such enthusiasm – yesterday – that I got to 5k words and didn’t finish. This morning is another lovely one, my Traveling Partner dozing near by, my coffee hot and tasty. I pare down the words a bit and wonder if I should publish this one at all… it seems to strike a fairly serious tone, which wasn’t my intent when I began it…still, there are some things worth saying about the recent string of ‘easy’ pleasant mornings… there are verbs involved. 🙂

Flowers are a lovely metaphor for growth over time.

Flowers are a lovely metaphor for growth over time.

I have been finding it easier of late to ‘merry meet’ when I interact with someone, and similarly easily ‘merry part’ when the time comes to walk away – even if that departure is heralded by some moment of stress or OPD in my vicinity. (If you are just joining us here, ‘OPD’ is ‘Other People’s Drama’.) My gentle mornings and evenings seem to cuddle busy productive work days that are, while not entirely stress free, quite enjoyable moment to moment. I am learning not to immerse myself in the difficulties of others. It’s a good time for me, and I am generally content.

Does any of this make it sound ‘easy’? I sure hope not. I mean well, and I benefit from my writing – which is why I do it, honestly – and some of you reading have shared that you find value in my words, or pictures. I sure don’t want to set expectations that these changes in experience and quality of life have been effortless to reach, however well received, however simple sounding; there are verbs involved. I am putting in a lot of time and practice to discover the difference between ‘wish’ and ‘will’. They are very different. 🙂

Imperfectly perfect is as perfect as perfect gets.

Imperfectly perfect is as perfect as perfect gets.

The changes in my experience, in my emotional resilience and self-sufficiency over time, and my enjoyment of life generally have not only not been ‘easy’ to reach – they are not promised even now. I know I am likely to have the occasional bad day. I’ll have difficult times and frustrating moments. I’m likely to struggle to be understood now and then, or to have an interaction with a loved one that leaves me feeling mistreated. Practice, in my experience so far, does not make ‘perfect’ – it just doesn’t, and I highly suggest letting that old trope fall by the wayside. Practice is practice; choosing good practices, and practicing them because the practices themselves add a positive quality to my experience has ‘moved the needle’ on my quality of life. I am experiencing an improvement over time – with continued practice. Your results may vary and there are verbs involved – and choices. The practices I choose for me are most effective when they are the most effective practices I can choose for myself – the ones that resonate with me, and meet my needs over time, providing me with the greatest value. I think that’s where I’ve ‘gone wrong’ in treatment before…trying to force practices to work for me that either didn’t address my needs well, or just weren’t the practices with the outcome I sought. The effort was wasted, not because it lacked value, but because it lacked the value I expected it to have. If I had been, then, more easily able to accept the value that any one practice or change in behavior or thinking actually offered, as it was, I might have gone farther, faster, sooner… I lacked the wisdom and experience to understand that good practices are not ‘One Size Fits All’. So. I try new ones, and share what I can of the experience. There’s a lot to learn in life’s curriculum.  And I sure hope this does not sound like a lecture. 🙂

Prescription strength mindfulness has been the best Rx for me...and it can be taken as part of any treatment plan!

Prescription strength mindfulness has been the best Rx for me…and it can be taken as part of any treatment plan! 

There’s a common and peculiar notion that a magic pill might save the day, spare the effort, provide a short-cut…and I think I got lost on that detour, too. For a long while I took powerful mind-altering prescription drugs on the recommendation of my clinician at the time, in a rather desperate willingness to ‘try anything’ that would ease my suffering, and balance my volatility… only… what I felt stated in a more honest way was a desperate willingness to try anything that did not require actual effort,  or an investment in will, practice, changing behaviors and thinking, investing in my time, or making a real commitment to the lengthy process that growth can be. That all sounds like real work…I wanted a magic pill, and no arguments. I wanted to be personally validated as being ‘the good guy’ and assured that because I had been victimized the world had an obligation to put things right somehow. I told countless therapists who asked me what I hoped to get out of treatment that what I wanted was ‘happily ever after’. I’ll tell you it’s worth saying so to a therapist at least once in one’s life – just to see the look on their face. It is not a reasonable goal. No magic pill. No short cuts. No happily ever after. I dutifully took my pills though…and then other pills to address symptoms those pills caused…and more therapy because the pills weren’t really fixing things, just muting them a bit…and then other different pills because the pills caused side effects…and more pills because those pills didn’t do quite what other pills did that I thought perhaps needed to be done… The pills were wrecking my health, and not doing my cognition or emotional balance any real good, either. Seeking a magic potion did not replace the effort required to learn to live and love skillfully, in the face of chaos and damage. (And the no short cuts rule seems pretty universal.)

I am not a doctor, and this is not medical advice. (Please don’t just wander off and stop taking your medication! Doing so over a blog post seems a poor approach to good self-care.)

I share what works for me because it was so hard for me to find, in the first place.

I share what works for me because it was so hard for me to find, in the first place.

Why am I on and on about how this is not easy, and that the journey requires taking steps, and that will requires action, and that there are verbs involved if I am enjoying my experience lately, with seemingly such ease day-to-day? Because I, myself, could be mislead by the ease in my experience lately, and find my way to problematic thinking and assumptions that could wreck my heart nearly instantly if something goes sideways unexpectedly.  I find it incredibly painful and discouraging to embrace expectations of ease and effortlessness, and have my contentment yoinked out from under me suddenly, not through any great tragedy, but simply because I lost sight of how much practice goes into living well, and how much time I invest in good self-care and taking care of me. “Easy” doesn’t describe it… and when it feels ‘easy’ I generally find that the sensation of ease is related more to developing skill over time, rather than to any lack of effort. I’m still practicing. There are still verbs involved. I am learning to undermine the demons of discouragement and futility lurking in the darkness by being accepting and aware of the commitment I make to practicing, and the necessity to continue. Doing so results in fewer of those terrible moments when it feels like it wasn’t worth trying at all; they are an illusion, and have no greater value than any other fleeting thought or emotion, and choosing differently is possible. You know I’m going to say it again… There are verbs involved. I also know there will be days when I struggle to understand why I have to practice so much or ‘work so hard’ at what seems so effortless on other days. Perspective will matter. Maybe on that day, these words will matter, too.

Each having our own experience, and all in this together; like flowers, we are also blooming in our own time.

Each having our own experience, and all in this together; like flowers, we are also blooming in our own time.

Today is apparently a good day for a lot of words. Today is a good day to practice good practices that are effective for me, personally. Today is a good day to try new practices with an open mind, and a will to explore what they may offer. Today is a good day to brush off discouragement with a smile and say “you’re not my supervisor!” Today is a good day to observe the suffering of others and choose differently myself, without being any less compassionate about their experience.

I am contemplating change this morning, over my coffee. My coffee is quite good, and my sleep was restful, although I woke feeling the night was somehow too short. Pleasant easy mornings often find me sifting through the mental miscellany before the day gets going, and lately I am often considering tasks and projects associated with moving from one residence to another.

It's a process.

It’s a process.

Change, this morning, is ‘about’ the move more than it is about most other things, but the move is also a metaphor for change in general, and the necessity to bring my will to life in order to take advantage of the power of change. I find these loops of thought very pleasing, and taking time to appreciate the living metaphor helps me learn life’s lessons more comfortably, keeping me on the path of becoming the woman I most want to be.

There are verbs involved - and it is not possible to see what is around the next bend.

There are verbs involved – and it is not possible to see what is around the next bend.

So, this morning I am sipping my coffee and considering things that have yet to be done, and using the process of moving to bring order to chaos, to shore up the foundation of my contentment, and to improve on the way I life my values, and invest in a positive experience day-to-day.

Sometimes it seems a lot of work, and I'm not sure I'm on the right path...

Sometimes it seems a lot of work, and I’m not sure I’m on the right path…

A pause for writer trivia…I touch type. It’s a handy skill, and relying on muscle memory instead of looking at the keys allows me to type pretty fast. Interestingly [to me], I have the most damnable time hitting the ‘ – ‘ key. I often find myself having to light the keyboard to go find the damned thing. It’s most peculiar, particularly after actively and accurately touch-typing for so many years…except for the dash. Yep. That generally comes up as a ‘0’, ‘9’, or ‘=’ two or three times before I finally pause to look down, at least once a day. 🙂

There are obstacles. Distractions. Sideshows.

There are obstacles. Distractions. Sideshows.

I’m eager to get on with moving and get it out of the way. I don’t actually like the upheaval associated with moving, and I’m concerned how it will affect me until I am settled in. The concern itself causes me concern on top of that – does the concern hold the potential to make the stress of the move harder to take? Is being more aware of the effect change has on me more likely to make it easier to manage? I am aware, fussing within the quiet of my thoughts, that the answer to all those questions and concerns is held within the practices I practice – most particularly practices of mindfulness, self-compassion, and good basic self-care. There are verbs involved. The eagerness dances an interesting emotional tango with my chaos and damage, affording me numerous opportunities to practice practices and to plan. I like planning, it feels like a secure foundation on which to build change.

Sometimes the journey seems endless...and I have to remind myself that the journey is the destination.

Sometimes the journey seems endless…and I have to remind myself that the journey is the destination.

This morning, my thoughts pause like butterflies in a vast meadow before moving on to the next flower. Books. Paintings. Porcelain. Clothes. I think about apartment living, and how precious ‘space’ really is, and how I enjoy the luxury of space between things and room to move, and  how I dislike the clutter that seems to creep in over time. I consider how to best make use of what I have, to minimize the likelihood that I will react to the stress of moving by behaving like I need to ‘have more’. Meditation helps with that one, by quenching the shopping jones. Success requires the will to practice, and to practice more – I find it doesn’t work nearly as well unless the practice itself is committed, genuine, and authentically heartfelt and real. Your results may vary. There are verbs involved. There is definitely a prerequisite that I bring with me the will to change.

It is worth investing in me, and learning to thrive in difficult circumstances.

It is worth investing in me, and learning to thrive in difficult circumstances.

This morning the real theme is that making good choices, and building the beautiful life I want and enjoy, requires that I know what I want in a fairly clear and reasonably specific way. I don’t run from practicing practices – practice is what it takes – but I wholly dislike re-doing things that were done poorly the first time, or handled poorly due to lack of forethought or planning. So…I think, and I plan. 🙂 It’s a nice way to enjoy my coffee in the morning, and wake up to a day in which I am active in the process of fulfilling my fondest desires.

However endless the challenges seem, I choose my perspective, I choose my behavior, and I direct my will; my choices matter.

However endless the challenges seem, I choose my perspective, I choose my behavior, and I direct my will; my choices matter.

It’s a lovely morning to good basic self-care. It’s a pleasant day to enjoy the woman I am, right now, and all the good qualities I offer the world. It’s a worthwhile day to make eye-contact and share smiles – my fellow-man is also on a journey of discovery, headed somewhere of their own choosing, each and every one. It’s a nice day to see the world.

Each destination reached is the first step on another journey, and the horizon is limitless.

Each destination reached is the first step on another journey, and the horizon is limitless.

I slept well and deeply last night. I woke feeling stiff, and in pain, but in a generally positive place emotionally. It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday. I sip my coffee and consider how meaningless the sentence “It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday” actually is, if one does not know the meaning of the word ‘Wednesday’. It’s quite difficult to have a good quality discussion on a topic, if the participants don’t share a similar understanding of how the words being used are defined. It’s a huge part of the ‘each having our own experience’ puzzle; the way we understand the world, ourselves, and the way we use language have the potential to be misunderstood.

We are each having our own experience.

As with the definitions of words in the spoken and written language we use, our assumptions ‘about’ things and people going on around us define other characteristics of the world, and our experience; our assumptions are quite individual and personal, and may not be shared by others. The assumptions we each make may not even be ‘accurate’ when compared to what can be shown empirically, tested, or verified.

We are each having our own experience – and it may not be ‘real’… or to be more reasonable, it may not be anything at all like the experience a large percentage of other people are having, seem to be having, say they are having – or is being held out as some sort of defining ‘norm’. It’s our own. Exclusively and entirely ours – and mostly chosen, and often based on our assumptions. To be clear, I’m not attempting to say that we are ‘at fault’, ourselves, when someone else acts against us violently, or when we must endure non-consensual experiences inflicted upon us. We can make use of our free will to take action, and some of the actions taken in the world are inflicted on someone, by another, causing pain, injury, or assorted other negative outcomes.

Some of the most horrible things that occur in the world are defended, and often by a great many people, using assumptions and definitions to support them, while the suffering is decried by others, also based on assumptions and definitions. It’s messy. Who is ‘right’? Does the injured party define the circumstances because they are injured by them? Does an aggressor define the circumstances, free to do so based on ‘intent’ versus ‘outcome’? We each have our opportunity in life to examine this puzzle closely; we will each hurt someone, sometime, and we are each at some point hurt, ourselves. When we are hurt, does the intent of the one who hurt us matter more than our pain? When we have injured someone else, which thing is more significant to us: explaining why we didn’t mean our actions to cause injury, why our actions ‘shouldn’t have’ caused injury, or that someone is hurt? Is being ‘right’ more important than treating each other well?

We are each  having our own experience – and I can’t answer my questions for anyone but me, really. I am thinking these things over, myself, because ‘reciprocity’ is on my mind; it’s one of my Big 5 relationship values. Reciprocity, from my perspective, might mean everyone takes turns on a household task, or it might mean that one person does a specific thing routinely because they don’t mind or have unique skill at it, while others also take on tasks similarly suited to their nature in equal measure, thus distributing the work in a way that is balanced and fair to all. Reciprocity can mean ‘taking turns’. Reciprocity, emotionally, means I give support in equal measure to receiving it, and that I back my partners goals and growth equally with my own. “Equal”, “balanced”, “fair” and “reciprocal” are all words, and because we are individuals, we define them for ourselves, quite individually. My need for reciprocity is not necessarily shared by others; it is my own choice to value this quality in my relationships, and to foster it in my own experience. I choose whether to build relationships with individuals, and can’t force my values on them. Sitting here sipping my coffee and considering reciprocity as a relationship value I realize that one thing I think is utterly urgent to be reciprocal with is consideration, itself. Reciprocity is hard to achieve if I don’t take time to consider what has value to others, what their needs may be… Oh, damn. Another definition would be needed… “need” versus “want”.

Each having our own experience…and it hits me hard, as I down my last gulp of now cold coffee; if I am engaged and present in my own experience, awake, aware, and observing the experiences of others while doing so…making the wisest choices I can to take care of me, and meet my own needs over time…listening deeply when others interact with me…practicing non-harm, compassion, and self-compassion…treating myself truly well, and living beautifully…it sounds rather as if on those terms, reciprocity happens, consideration is, and The Big 5 dovetails quite seamlessly with The Art of Being. So…this tells me living my own experience fully, and mindfully walking my path each day is ‘all’ that is required to live a life that is generally contented and joyful. There’s definitely a lesson about attachment sneaking in there, too. My definitions, my values, my goals…your results may vary.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

Today is a good day to enjoy the person in the mirror. Today is a good day to do my best. Today is a good day to build emotional resilience and self-sufficiency, appreciating how far I’ve come, and what a lovely journey it generally is. Today is a good day to listen deeply, to love well, and to savor being okay right now.

A quality of The Art of Being struck me with force yesterday; there is no ‘blank canvas’ once we get started, not generally. We only get the one blank canvas, and ever after must add, correct, adjust, change, modify, paint over, or enjoy the work in progress, as is it is. I’m not complaining; it’s the biggest canvas ever, and when we get started it seems as if there is no likelihood of filling it with our vision – it’s that huge. When we start, we lack vision, we lack composition, we lack technique – but we also lack doubt, and we are not self-conscious about The Art of Being; we begin the thing fully engaged and present…and doodling, metaphorically. I mean…few of us are, as children, what we will become as adults.

"Broken" 14" x 18" acrylic and mixed media with glow.

“Broken” 14″ x 18″ acrylic and mixed media with glow. 2012

Yesterday, a bad bit of earlier work beneath some lovely very new work on the canvas of my experience produced a predictable enough moment of misunderstanding. I’ve spent enough time wading through the wreckage that it feels fairly normal…I forgot that it is ‘wreckage’, and shards of chaos and damage. Violence and ancient pain have left their mark on me, and although most days it’s just a smudge on the corner of my canvas, yesterday it was as if India ink had been spilled, blotting out a bit of the good work of later years, seeping through from underneath.  For just a moment, it felt as if perhaps the whole piece was ruined – it can so easily look that way if I forget that my metaphorical canvas never dries, and is never completed.

"You Always Have My Heart" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow. 2014

The challenge, and the life lesson, are once again about attachment. Attachment to outcomes, to emotions, to people, to moments – however lovely, moments are still quite fleeting, ephemeral, and in a sense quite unrepeatably unique. Life is always ‘live’. People persist in being quite human. The shadows cast by past violence are but shadows, however ‘real’ they feel in some later moment. Then there’s this; because so much of my experience is ‘made up’ content built of my assumptions, my thoughts, and my memories, filtered through my values, prejudices, and perspective, I am very much at risk of becoming attached to something that doesn’t really exist, isn’t what I perceive it to be, or isn’t shared in the way I may want it to be. The Art of Being is art because the limitless power to create even who I am has no rule book, no instruction manual, no single scalable process with a reliable error-correction cycle, no universally shared measurable quality that all agree is ideal…I choose who I am, I choose my words, I live my life…but it isn’t ‘paint by numbers’, and some days it obviously lacks technique, or skill…some days the art doesn’t move me, some days it isn’t pretty.

Unfinished canvas...what will it become when the moment arrives?

Unfinished canvas…what will it become when the moment arrives?

Take a moment to consider how little technical mastery, great design, composition, fame, or expertise actually matter when we see something that delights us aesthetically. I have been as captivated by a child’s unskilled painting as by a masterpiece; the engineering and craftsmanship are not the defining qualities of ‘art’, although some art certainly shows amazing engineering and craftsmanship.  I am finding this true of life as art, too. What moves us isn’t always easy to understand. Certainly, what moves us isn’t always understood by others.

"Kuwait; Oil Fires" 26" x 48" oil on silk.

“Kuwait; Oil Fires” 26″ x 48″ oil on silk. 1992

The Art of Being as an approach to learning life’s lessons, living beautifully and mindfully, and being the woman I most want to be is a powerful act of self-compassion, and self-nurturing; as a metaphor it allows me to take a step back, and view life from another perspective, as an artist at work on something wonderful might be inclined to do, reconsidering something on the canvas, and taking time to touch it up, or understand it differently.

"Communion" 24" x 36" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

“Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

Today is a good day for a metaphor. Today is a good day for life as art, and to study The Art of Being. Today is a good day to feel pleasure in spite of heart ache, and to love the canvas in front of me enough to keep working on it – and to do my best work, mindfully, and with love.

"The Stillness Within" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow. 2014