Sunday, January 24, 2016

The Christmas Socks

I've been having difficulty keeping my commitment to writing. Part of the issue is I have a tendency to overthink things and part of my inaction stems from an odd sense of guilt I've cultivated over the years. A guilt that snares me and prevents me from moving forward.

Case in point, a foolhardy promise to knit my friends and family socks one Christmas. A promise that went unfulfilled for 3 years. After a while I found myself not wanting to knit anything, because all I could think about was those damn socks. It became paralysing for me. Sounds silly, doesn't it? But this fall, in an ongoing attempt to check things off my mental list, I buckled down. I resolved myself to do it and, even though 3 pairs arrived late, I completed 6 pairs of socks (which may not sound like much, but I can assure you it is). And the first thing I did was to make something for me! I was liberated from myself!

Since then, I have realised that this is a recurring pattern that encompasses small everyday things. Not returning an email or a phone call, not reading bookmarked articles or keeping up to date on a blog. All these small things build up and hold me down and prevent me from "doing". I become mired in the guilt, bogged down and unable to proceed.

In the midst of this revelation, I can see the pattern starting with the creative group I recently joined. There are a lot of members and a stream of notifications letting me know that so and so and 10 others posted in the group. My brain begins to tighten and I start to question myself.
"When will I find time to read all those posts? And comment appropriately? If I can't read all of them, I don't want to read any of them because that isn't fair to the others." Knowing full well that I am under no obligation (except my own self-imposed one) to read them all. So I don't read any and - "oh shit! there goes my phone again, letting me know that Jon and 13 others have posted in the group! How am I going to write anything and post it, expecting feedback, when I haven't read the others' contributions?"

See how I tie myself up? It's hard, but I know that this pattern has to change and I just have to keep working on it. Keep reminding myself of the Christmas socks and how free I felt to be finished. And with that I take another step forward.

It's simple to see that freedom, for every man and woman, lies in the mind's willingness to alter old habits.  First, though, the mind has to hear itself and change the conversation.  - don Miguel Ruiz
 

My little dog leaping into life! She inspires me to be so free.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

My Light in the Darkness, redux.

Nearly three years have slid by since my last blog post but the path I travelled then is the same as the one I am currently pursuing. Along the way I suffered a major derailment, one I have kept mostly quiet about, but the journey continues and I like to believe that I am further along the route.
As 2016 approached, I knew I had to continue. I knew I had to listen to the gentle encouragement and I knew I had to start writing again. It would be easier to ignore the quiet voice inside that tells me to write it all down, get it all out on paper and see where it goes. I've put this off long enough, if I am going to be the truest me there isn't much of a choice. Having made the decision to forge ahead and get these words out of my head and onto (virtual) paper, I asked and was accepted into the Creative Group at Bedlam Farm - a creative community of encouragement - where I hope to not only find encouragement, but vital feedback and inspiration.
One of the greatest lessons I have learned over the past three years is that we are all struggling with fears and insecurities, we are all fighting demons inside of us, we are all looking for comfort and contentment and connection. I try to keep that knowledge in the forefront and let it guide me. But as so often happens when one is evolving into their truer self, I stumble and forget. My hope is that as I persevere I might help light the way for others.