Sometimes, in the stillness of an early Sunday morning—my day cleared of demands on me—I can watch as if outside myself the slow progression of events that I know lead to where I want to go.
 
Hank Wesselman (now gone) taught: “We have the power to create our own lives and who we are within them.”
 
From a distance, from the perspective of my soul’s “seeing,” as I take my power into my own hands, I watch somehow the slow parade of one small responsibility checked off after another, each bringing down one of the barricades of those between me and what I dream for my life.
 
In these crystalline moments, able to step back from the nitty-gritty which, of course, I am living, a wave of pure pleasure and peace washes over me, fills me, erases for this time all the worries and doubts within me.
 
I feel my being as risen, omniscient, hovering in a blue and cloudless sky, separate from all my concerns and knowing utterly I will find a way to carry them to completion, each becoming lighter and lighter as I make my way there.
 
I feel this. I really do. And it is such a reprieve, for just this little while, to dwell in this place.

I have been sick for nearly a month now. Thank goodness my head is clearing at last so I am not so foggy and befuddled. At least I am beginning to feel deeply again and even write about those feelings.

It has been a dispiriting time, alone for Christmas and for New Year’s. Not what I would choose.

But there is a certain dreamy distance that comes from being sick. It forces you to step back, take a break from the mad rush of life and responsibilities. I have had this now, even as I do the work expected of me, putting off what is not mandatory until later.

Being sick this time brings with it a warning or a lesson to stop the patterns of living that brought me here. It tells me I need to learn new lessons, a new pace, that allows breath and spaciousness and REST. And in that rest and spaciousness and breath is the ability to BE with who I am again and take time to sense what is right for me, instead of perennially forcing myself to trudge against the wind, my whole body bent over, pushing as hard as I can to conquer all on my path.

I don’t want to live that way anymore. It is how I was forced to live as a child, and I am tired of carrying on the lessons that they taught me. It is high time, yet again, to LISTEN to this message before my life has passed me by with only work to stand for what it has been. 

It is time to remember to trust again, too, to know that I am always taken care of.

I haven’t had the energy to work in the studio. I have stepped foot in there often to bask in the piece I have created so far. The next step is to remove the tree trunks that are now only push-pinned over the canvas with my face. It is time to begin to “paint with fabrics” the forest floor, greenery here and there, the sky, her hair. 

It will come, but not yet. I do not have the energy. I also feel the whole of it gestating inside me as I slowly come to envision how I do want to drape the fabric, layer the folds of pattern and shape to create the rest of the forest. 
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It will come, and when I get there, I will love doing it. My entire body will expand with the joy and magnificence of creating!
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I am claiming this time of quiet and soft peace on this quiet and soft morning. Gray. Stillness. Crickets. Few chirpings of birds. I am claiming this time amidst the busyness of my day.
 
I researched affirmations on the web this morning for my classes, first the dictionary definition. I found a wonderful list of ten.
 
I want to include in each week’s session the writing of an affirmation. Perhaps at the end, bringing the class to quiet closure, helping each leave on as positive a note as possible.
 
And I am thinking of other things, how to organize the time, what else to include to foster going deeper into getting to know yourself.
  
I realize as I stop now that, in working these ideas, a part of me is drawn forward. It is that part that wants to help, wants to guide, wants to fight for others against the pain or need of possibly a lifetime, towards the joy of the rest of life. This excites me. It brings me more into my own purpose of why I am here.
 
It is also why it is so important to sit here like this to write, when I can, when am able to claim the space and time, to remind myself that this forgiving, supportive, sacred land is what allows me to even imagine doing what I am doing. It is the comforting foundation or mother's arms that hold me throughout my day, and at the end of it, when I drop into them exhausted from being one of the most extreme introverts and doing this work.

With this earth, this beautiful, loving earth, and my home upon her, I can sink into her and know all is and will be alright.
 
Thank you, my earth, my home, my sanctuary. I feel your love and support of me. And I know today as every day, you will provide what is exactly right.
 
Thank you for this glorious day of gentle softness.