Gifts Always Given

Light within Fog

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.

My self-portrait with trees as of the end of November.

My Studio

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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Robin Lynn Brooks wears a few hats. She is an artist, writer, and a book/graphic/web designer. She leads Writing Your Way Home workshops, a journey of self-discovery through writing your life story, guiding you towards who you truly are.