After the holidays do you find a momentarily lull, a breath of sweetness, until…
An edgy thought crashes across the ‘relaxation barrier’.

The thought that upsets the cart: ‘What will your goals be for the new year?’ The anxiety of organization momentarily blinding and binding all senses. The next thought: ‘How will I be able to accomplish anything this year with out a plan?’ And then the feeling of underwhelm and overwhelm hits like waves.

“This is my year to pull myself closer toward my future self in a good way. The one who has it all together!” is said out loud and momentarily becomes an organizing field that eases the panicked system. Breath now once again is re-membered and floods the field.

You know this self, the one you’ve been feeding for this very moment.

So with a willing hand you grab your notebook and light a fire on a very cold morning and vow to stop binge watching TV and come to your senses and make your way to the studio the next day, even though getting to the studio feels like trudging through ice and mud with barb wire fencing guarding the door.

You sit there with your notebook in hand with all thoughts that pull you into ‘less than’ and ‘not good enough’ and ‘undeserving’ riding themselves piggy back, black tiered monsters stacked in neat succession foul smelling and complete with horns. You could run. And for some reason you don’t.

We know these demons by their first names. They are armed and dangerous and carrying weapons of mass destruction: ‘Who am I to be making art and thinking I have something to say that the world may want? What if no one ‘likes’ this painting on FB? or…Who will want me’… etc etc.

In between these thought forms appear momentary flash points of choice. I could embrace the transitional awkwardness at hand, the glorious fear of creation, instead of deeply escalating into suffering. Or I could get the hell out of here and do something else.

These tantrums I have found do serve.
As painful as they may be, these moments of frantic self doubt help me re calibrate.

By the next morning I laugh with myself about my first world problems and will pick myself up and realize transitioning into a new phaze artistically can be unsettling.

Breathing, I say to myself, “There there.” and coax myself into believing I do have something to say and realize that perhaps that yesterdays thoughts and feelings may be covering something I’ve been unwilling to look at, or may point to an aspect of my life that needs tending. Or maybe I’m creating needed tension that will propel me forward; negative rocket fuel. Maybe I need a break.
(This is tricky because I’m very good about fooling myself…)

Staying accountable and keeping my inner fires stoked does require self care and tending to all my life. When one aspect is terribly out of balance the creative house of cards can fall. I find when I surrender to the Goddess, the one who really runs the show and understanding  I am simply an appendage of her many armed creation all seems to fall into place.

Sweet Winter to you all!