Artfully Healing

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

The dawn of a new decade

The last ten years have been a season of growth, transformation, change, heartache, and tearing down. Tearing down sounds negative, but with a different point of view, tearing down is necessary for a rebuild. I have experienced really high highs and really low lows. Through it all I have gained experience, I have become a different person, and I have learned a great deal about myself, people, and the world around me. I've spent the last week or so reflecting on the last ten years and today specifically I compared it to the decade of time before 2009-2019. It's an interesting contrast and what I've gained from each decade is pretty remarkable. When we reflect on our experiences I think most of us can find the light and hope that existed with the darkness of each challenge. That is if we want to. Perspective has such a remarkable impact on the lens we are peering through to see the world and our experience.

You are strong. "Rearranged" © 2016
Toni Becker, Artfully Healing

When I think of this last decade, I'm in awe of all I went through to get where I am now. The last ten years have really kicked my ass, shattered my heart, stripped me of everything, and then rebuilt me. If this was a boxing match, I definitely lost several times, but I kept fighting. Each time I was knocked down, I got back up and faced the next match, game face ready with an open heart ready to love and ready to fight. I've endured loss, grief, hardship, struggle, challenges, happiness, joy, abundance, love, miracles, and a tremendous amount of growth. I have gratitude in my heart for all of it because if I hadn't went through these experiences that have tore my walls down, stripped me of who I was, and shed the skin I was in, I wouldn't be who I am right now. And she is beautiful and magnificent. I have fought hard to get where I am, I've worked hard to see the lessons in each challenge, and to overcome the fear of moving forward. My heart is open, willing, and ready for what the next decade will be. I know that whatever happens I'm supported, I'm loved, and I will experience growth in ways I haven't experienced up until now.

I entered 2009 with a loss so big it shook my world and shattered my heart. I experienced the heaviest grief. I walked into 2009 confused, sad, distraught, shattered, and angry wondering how I was going to overcome the grief I was experiencing after losing my brother on December 13, 2008. And now as I leave 2019, I'm once again experiencing a magnanimous loss. The loss of my mother has left me forever changed and different. I entered the decade losing my brother and friend, and now I leave the decade losing my mother and friend. It feels full circle. Both of these losses have shaped and molded me, taught me lessons I couldn't have experienced otherwise, helped me understand myself and grief, and have allowed me to connect and understand people with deep compassion. My heart misses both of them more than I can express but through both of these losses, I have experienced the greatest love and growth. They were such wonderful teachers to me emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually. They may be gone physically, but I know that they will continue to teach me in the days ahead. Although the body is gone, love remains and holds us, connects us with an invisible thread. And through their love, I will continue to seek guidance and learn what they have to show me.

I watched my marriage fall apart and disintegrate, all the while wondering if I could endure the challenge and hardship that would ensue as a single mother and woman in this world. Everything that I believed in was shattered. My way of life challenged. There were days I wondered how I was going to get through the heartache of losing someone I loved so dearly. I wondered how I was going to pay for everything and at times where my next meal was coming from. It seemed like everyone had an opinion on what I should do. As I shed the skin of everything I believed in, everything I knew about myself, and everything I thought I should or shouldn't do, I was able to find myself and the foundation of my belief system. Through this loss, I was cracked open, transformed, and reborn. This loss taught me so many lessons and gave me so many gifts, too many to list in this short reflection. I was humbled and shed so many of my beliefs. The skin I wore at the end of my marriage was very different than the skin I wore when I finished walking through the hellacious challenge of separation and loss. The woman I was when I entered my marriage was very different than the woman I was when it fell apart, and then the woman I am now. Through darkness and loss, I transformed and learned the true art of surrender and acceptance.

This past decade there has been so much loss and grief. I came close to losing my self-employment contract a few times which would have been a loss of income..my only source of regular income. I lost my brother and mother. I lost my marriage. I lost a home I had been in for 8 years. I lost my car I worked so hard to get. I lost myself.

Karin Bremer's Art
Windfall

With darkness, there is also light. With sadness, there is also joy. And with loss there is also gain. And with all of it there is hope. As I reflect on what I have lost in the last decade, I'm also reminded of what I have gained. I needed each of these heart-wrenching experiences to become who I am right now. Each challenging experience gave me the tools I needed to face the next experience and reminded me that I have survived.

Through the loss of Jon, I found spirit. I dove further into healing art. I leaned into the lessons the spirit world wanted me to learn and my life's purpose. I came to understand the power of grief and the transformation that happens as a result. Through my intense grief and the lessons I learned as I walked through it, I have been able to assist others through theirs. I have been able to offer a safe space of healing through the simple act of compassion and kindness.

Through the loss of my marriage, I found myself. I already knew who I was, but this loss allowed me to own her, my voice, and truly find my place in the world ALONE. I learned things about myself that I didn't know previously, and I learned to listen. I learned to listen to MY voice and the voice of spirit. The loss of my marriage truly stripped me down and allowed me to shed so many of my limiting beliefs and the belief systems that didn't serve me any longer. It also led me to a deeper relationship with spirit and understanding my intuition. Through the loss of my marriage, I also gained art. Oh, art was already there, but I learned I could paint! And wow that was a magnificent find! Through the lessons of loss, I developed an understanding of myself and my intuition which created my artistic voice and allowed it to really bloom and flourish. There was an accelerated growth that happened in this time period that I can't explain. I learned to follow the voice and the voice led me to my first gallery showing which was pretty remarkable. Intense joy. Intense gratitude. Intense transformation.

"Transformation" © 2016
Toni Becker, Artfully Healing

Through the possible loss of income, I learned to trust my voice and to look at my unique offerings. I began to learn to trust that the magnificent energy of this world had a greater plan for me, but I needed to see what I had to offer. I needed to learn that I was deserving and worthy. I needed to lean in to trust and that my path was my own, not anyone else's. I learned to trust that the unconventional path that I was on was purely my own, and although not for everyone, it was for me. I applied for jobs that allowed me to really look at my skills and all of the unique things I had to offer. The scare of potentially not working for myself and having to work for someone else, allowed me to say NO and really developed my voice. It gave me the confidence I needed to trust my intuition and own what was right for me even when the rest of the world didn't understand. I was never meant to get the jobs I applied for, what I learned about myself from preparing for those interviews was more than what any amount of money could have given me.

Through the loss of my home, I found love. Again, I learned the act of surrender, trust, and acceptance. My kids and I moved into my ex-husband's tiny apartment and I slept on a twin mattress

on the floor of his living room. There were many days when I cried myself to sleep wondering how my life ended up here. There were many days when I felt I couldn't endure anymore. I was in a complete place of surrender. I was also in a place of gratitude. He didn't have to allow me to come and stay there, but he did. While staying there I manifested a house the kids and I had requested of spirit. A home that was so lovely and nurtured each of us back to each other. Through this loss, I gained my marriage. From the broken pieces of my life, I chose to transform and rebuild. From the 4.5 years of work that both of us did individually during our separation, we were able to rebuild ourselves as a couple and ultimately put our family back together. It's been the greatest act of trust, surrender, and love.

Through the loss of my mother, I too, have gained. I'm still navigating the grief of this tremendous

"Acceptance" © 2016
Toni Becker, Artfully Healing

loss and will be for quite some time. At this moment I'm still in disbelief that she is physically gone, and know that I have many lessons to learn as I navigate this loss that are sitting on the horizon awaiting me. For now, I do know that this is what I have learned. I was given the gift of time, the gift of deep love, the gift of unconditional love, and I came to understand the act of surrender and acceptance on a deeper level than any of my previous experiences. I came to understand myself more, and the importance of self-love and setting boundaries. I owned more of the components of my spiritual walk and developed my spiritual practice a little more. Through caring for the woman who gave me life, I learned the deep respect and importance of elder care, and how vital it is in our world. I learned to respect the aging process and the winter season of this stage of life. The weekend my mother was dying I became Reiki II certified and that was a true gift. I was honored to connect with her energy as she was dying... moved beyond words. I was given the opportunity and sacred honor of being with my mommy as she took her last breath. I trusted my spiritual voice on a deeper level and through that trust and honoring of voice, I provided a sacred ceremony for her as she transitioned out of her body into spirit. These are true gifts. Gifts that will always be priceless to me. I have yet to fully understand all of the gifts this loss has given me, but in time I will, and I know they will transform me. For now I can say, I am forever changed by all of it... for the better.

You are beautiful. "Rearranged" © 2016
Toni Becker, Artfully Healing

And now as I leave this decade, I leave all of the hurt, sadness, challenges, struggle, and self-doubt behind. I embrace the joy, love, understanding, and self-confidence that came as a result. Life is filled with duality and there will always be experiences that give us pain, struggle, hurt and sadness, but
each of these experiences also give us joy, love, understanding, hope, and ease. I have learned what I needed to learn and embrace this new decade with love and hope. I embrace the choice to live with ease. I embrace spirit and where it will lead. I embrace a new way of being. I'm so grateful for the friends I have made in this decade and the friends I had to leave behind. I have learned more than I can fathom from each person, experience, and challenge that has been presented. I am so grateful for all of it and look to the future with an open heart filled with love and adventure, and I am filled with eager anticipation at what lies ahead.

Happy New Year, friends. May the year ahead be filled with love, light, and a multitude of blessings for each of you.

Friday, November 9, 2018

Surrendering to the journey of life

"The Bow"
© 2018 Toni Becker,
Artfully Healing/Whimsical Jewels

I awoke today with an overwhelming sadness. The sadness that time is racing by, and I can't stop it. The sands of the hour glass are speeding up and visually I see the sands falling through my fingers. I try to contain it by clasping my hands tightly shut, but it's not working. So here I sit, knowing I need to honor these feelings despite my mind telling me I have a zillion things to do. My heart reminds me that I am a sensitive and emotional human with empathy and compassion for myself and others, while my head tells me to numb it and stay active with my life and my "to do list". My ego screams... "No one has time for this, keep doing and it will go away." Here's the truth. It's easier and more comfortable to numb myself with activities and things I need to take care of instead of honoring what I feel because these feelings are intense. The real work lies in the allowing and the honoring. So today I'm honoring.

I want to say no to the outside world, pull the covers over my head and lie in bed allowing myself to be what I need to be.... a big sobbing mess. I'm not one to run from what I'm feeling although there are days I know I don't have time for it, and I push through knowing it will be there tomorrow. Believe me, it doesn't go away. I acknowledge this isn't the healthiest approach, but sometimes it's what I need to do, to get things done, knowing I can't handle the tasks I need to care for and the intensity of my emotions. Today I awoke knowing I needed to take care of my emotional health and honor the space I'm in and sit with the intensity. So here it goes... I'm mad that I don't have the means to stay in bed today if I want to. I'm mad that I can't be with my mom every second of the day. I'm mad that life has been so challenging and there appears to be no end in sight to these challenges. I'm mad that time is running out. I'm mad that I'm losing the beginning of me. I'm mad that time and future memories are being stolen from me. I'm mad that people focus on such nonsense. I'm mad that I am forced to deal with these people and their nonsense. I'm mad that the world is so divided and people are killing each other. Then there's the sadness. I'm sad that I'm watching someone I love so deeply weaken each day. I'm sad and mad that I can't do anything to make it stop. I'm sad that my life will go on without a huge part of me. I'm sad for my children and what they're feeling. I'm sad that there's a good possibility my mom won't be here to see them graduate, go to college, get married, have the joy of seeing them start a family... the list is long. I'm sad that I can't do more for her. I'm sad that there will come a day that I won't be able to feel her hugs, stroke her soft hair, place my hand on her face or see her across the dinner table. My stomach is sick. My head is throbbing. My face is a big salty mess from the continual stream of tears.

My mom on her birthday 10/11/15

Then there's the duality of all the emotions above. There's gratitude and joy. It's a little hard to write about it when my sadness is being felt with such intensity today, but these feelings are still there. It's these feelings that calm my stomach and make the throbbing in my head feel less intense. They serve as a beautiful reminder of what I have and what I've been given. I have the unconditional love of a woman who is such a beautiful example of love and motherhood. And when the clock stops, I'll still have this, just in a different form. Despite feeling like time is running out, I'm reminded that I have been given time and the ability to care of the woman who gave me life. I'm reminded that I have the blessing of having her in my home, and although it's hard to see her in a weakened state, I'm grateful for the ability to care for her, to love her in this state and to serve her in this way. I'm grateful that time has already been extended and I hope for more time, but as hard as it is to acknowledge this... I accept and honor that it may not happen.

For the last year I have been engaging with anticipatory grief or maybe it's been engaging with me. The truth is, it really doesn't matter how much you engage with anticipatory grief, it doesn't prepare you for a loss of this magnitude. The waves of grief I will feel when it's all said and done will be greater than what I am going through right now. For today though, I feel a little better honoring this space and giving my grief the acknowledgement it needed.

My mom and I, 12/25/16

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

A big fat stinking mess, yet beautiful. Welcome to life.

A panel of my "Letting Go Lantern"
© 2017 Toni Becker,
Whimsical Jewels, Artfully Healing

I'm drowning. Drowning in the messy happenings of life. The waves are crashing, beating against my being stealing my breath. My heart beats faster. My breath escaping me. Try as I might I just can't catch my breath. I'm trying to stay afloat... my legs kick faster, even though I can feel this sinking feeling. I fight. I breathe. I kick harder. But there's a heavy weight pulling me down. I feel like I'm drowning. Right now, that's how my grief feels.

For many weeks now I have fought kicking and screaming with so many people I'm exhausted. I've felt unheard, thinking am I not being clear? After such in depth conversations and clear examples, I'm left wondering how my words could have fallen so hard on deaf ears. The result is a suffocation I can't describe. All the while people on the sidelines are telling me to scream louder, advocate harder, do this do that... I've done all I can do. I've done the best I could do. And yet, I don't feel like it's remotely over or nearly enough. And I'm wondering how much I have left to give and if I have the strength to keep fighting. I'm tired. No, I'm exhausted. I'm to the point now I can barely put words together to form a coherent sentence. Sitting here typing this is taking everything I have, but I know at the end I'll feel better so I keep stroking the keys. Not giving a shit what it sounds like, or if it makes any sense. The blog is artfully healing... and this is part of my healing and the art form I'm using in this moment to soothe my tired mind, bleeding heart, and exhausted frame.

A panel of my "Letting Go Lantern"
© 2017 Toni Becker,
Whimsical Jewels, Artfully Healing

The same waves that are crashing against my frail frame causing me to feel the tremendous burden of grief, are also in the same way healing and transforming me. It's a big fat stinking mess and yet so beautiful. It's here in this moment with the weight of everything I know that when it's all said and done, I will be better for it. It's just so hard to see it when I feel like I'm drowning and trying to keep my head above the water.

I wrote the above passage on 7/16/18, but never published it. I'm not sure why I left it as a draft, but I did. And now as I read the above words, I realize it feels complete and incomplete simultaneously. Now three months later my words are still relevant to my daily life, but the anticipatory grief that I feel is heavier and more of a reality. At the time of writing the passage my mom was at a rehab center getting ready for discharge. She had been under hospital type care for a month... a week in the ICU, a week on a regular floor, and then discharged to a rehab facility where she spent two and a half weeks. I battled with all of them, advocating for her care making sure she was taken care of and receiving the care she deserved. Ultimately she was discharged before she was ready due to insurance, and my choices were limited so I brought her home with us. The fighting and advocating didn't stop, but thankfully it hasn't been as intense. Now with hospice coming into our home, I find myself breathing a little easier regarding her care. The care she's receiving right now is exactly what she needs and quite frankly what everyone needs to receive throughout their life span, not just at the end of life.

My beautiful Mom on her birthday
10/11/18

Today the grief is heavy. I know my days with her are numbered, and everything else that goes on in one's daily life seems unnecessary and quite frankly a waste of my time. I find myself thinking about all the stuff we waste our energy on that serves no purpose and lacks meaning. I feel my mind drifting, wishing I had the means to be with her around the clock for this last journey. I'm mad because I can't be. I'm sad that it's happening. This morning, I awoke at 3 am with a heaviness in my chest and a wave of sadness that stole my breath. These last few days as I've watched my mom, in her own way she has told me to back up. "Toni, you worry too much." In my mind, I reply I know but I only have one mom and she's dying. I feel her energy and things start melting away. It's here that I look at her. I see her clearly. I realize some of her behavior is fear, sadness and her own grief. I'm sure she doesn't want this to be the end either. She feels the same as us... She wants to stay as long as she can and we want her to be here for as long as her spirit allows. Her light is magnificently beautiful and I realize how blessed I have been to have had such an incredible woman as a mother. My heart is heavy. The thought of moving forward without her steals my breath and makes my chest feel like an elephant is sitting on me. This is grief. This is sadness. This is a big fat stinking mess, yet oh so beautiful. Welcome to life..... and death. A full circle.

My handmade birthday gifts for my mom
Handmade Journal & Canvas Necklace
© 2018 Toni Becker; Whimsical Jewels & Artfully Healing

Thursday, September 13, 2018

Honoring Grief

Today I sit with an overwhelming sadness, and tears streaming down my face. I have to go to work in a little while and quite frankly I don't want to. I want to sit here and honor this grief; and the sadness I feel as a result. There's a tightness in my chest from the grief I feel, a tightness so heavy it steals my breath. Damn, I'm grieving hard.

Last night I came home from work and saw something black in my back yard on the edge of the forest. I wondered what it was when I saw it, and my brain started in overdrive. Intuitively I knew. I immediately told myself it couldn't be and walked inside my house. I said the usual hellos to everyone and proceeded to the kitchen to start unloading my groceries. After saying hello to my love, he went right into telling me I wasn't going to be happy. Again, intuitively I knew. "We have a dead crow in our yard." My heart sunk. Immediate sadness.

I walked out back and stood there looking at my spirit animal. I felt a deep sadness and the tears began. I placed my hands on my heart and told the bird I loved him. And I was sorry. I'm not sure what I was sorry for, I guess I was sorry he died. My chest tightened and the tears flowed. I came back inside and my love gave me a comforting embrace. I'm grateful he understood. A beloved family member had died and I'm so deeply sad.

This morning I find myself standing on the back deck starting at him. I've cried a lot and have felt a deep sadness and grief. The same sadness and grief I have felt when someone I love has passed on. I want to honor Crow and his life, but quite frankly I don't know how. Part of me, wants to wrap him up and give him a burial. The other voice inside me says honor him through art. But how? So, I will sit with that for a little bit and allow the answers to come.

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Death

At some point or another all of us think about this topic. Most of us dread the conversation or the thoughts that arise from the thoughts of death. Thinking about our own mortality is scary and the thoughts that arise from the impending death of a loved one is equally as scary. As a small child I can remember laying in my bed at night fearing death. The word scared me, the afterlife scared me and anything encompassing this morbid subject made me tremble in fear. With my head nestled on my pillow, tucked in my bed by my sweet mother and uttering the prayer "Now I lay me down to sleep..." I remember thinking so many thoughts about death, wondering what would happen and where I would go if it did happen. I also remember feeling the fear course through my body, praying that I made it until the morning. I'm pretty sure most people go through this at some time or another. Having a religious father, my fear of the afterlife was heightened and I feared the worst would happen to me.

These last few months, the topic of death has surfaced more and more. In our household we are facing the inevitable death that will occur with my sweet mama. Maybe it's a year from now, maybe a few months, it's a lot of maybes. Of course, I don't have an exact time frame, but I feel in my belly it's coming. I have a knowing that it's happening and it doesn't matter how much I try to ignore it, I know it's on the horizon. It causes a ton of thoughts to rise, and with those thoughts come a flood of emotions. I know I want to be as ready as I can be, and make sure I give this process the care and attention it deserves.

I sat with a dear soul yesterday and talked about death. We had this super loving exchange about preparing a human for this transition, but most importantly the soul preparation. Since that conversation, I have been flooded with emotions. As I drifted off to sleep last night, I was aware that the last few months I have pushed my thoughts and feelings down in order to keep moving forward and have only scratched the surface of how I have felt. I've had to get things done for my mom and be her caretaker, advocate, and healthcare proxy on top of being a mother, a wife, business woman and the many other hats I wear each day. Self preservation was needed during this tumultuous time, but now that I have some help and have had some room to breathe a little; I am tending once again to these thoughts and emotions on a deeper level. The flood gates have opened. I am a highly sensitive individual who feels things deeply and with an intensity I have a hard time describing. There are times that I dam up the gates in order to get things done which is exactly what I have done the last couple of months.

This morning sitting here with a tender heart and a willingness to surrender to my feelings; I dive in to the emotional processing necessary to care for myself. It's part of my self-love and self-care on a deeper level than what I've engaged with as of late. When I began writing this morning there were two songs that moved me to tears and they played back to back on my spotify station. The first one, "So Thankful" by Nahko & Medicine for the people allowed for a wave of thoughtfulness to occur and how grateful I am for this life, the magic that occurs daily, and for the tremendous woman who gave me life. She has tenderly cared for me, loved me unconditionally and supported me through this journey. As I listened to the music and the words, my eyes began to well with tears and my heart surrendered. These words pulled at my heart and provided a loving space to honor her.

"The mother that raised me

is truly a queen.

Taught me how to love God

and follow my dreams.

Said, "oo so grateful, oo so grateful""

The heartfelt message of Nahko's words pull at my heart strings most days, but today it pulled harder and deeper. This morning, in the quiet of the house, as I listened, the music soothed me and gave rise to love, gratitude and light. As I listened to his musical story and the hardships endured, hardships far greater than what I can imagine, I found beauty in the gratitude of this lovely song. We can go through the trenches of hell and still have a sense of gratitude, if we choose to. The last year has been so challenging... emotionally, physically and mentally, but I am grateful. I'm grateful for the enrichment these challenges bring, the blessings of life, but most importantly for the love of a woman I call mama and the impact she has had on my life as a woman and mother.

In the stillness of the room as I surrendered, the song "Directions" was and is my prayer. Again, Nahko & Medicine for the People moved me to tears. This lovely song of prayer sang directly to my soul. In that tender moment as my heart opened, the song sang the words of my soul. "Grandfather, Grandmother... I am calling on you. I need your guidance now."

Dear Spirit of the Divine, Help me in the days ahead to act with grace and love, to be honoring and accepting, help me to surrender to my path as well as hers, and provide the guidance and the people to assist me as everything unfolds. Thank you for your blessings, your loving gifts, your challenges that cause me to awaken deeper and your divine support and love.

"With these wings I CAN fly"

Thursday, July 12, 2018

Allow. Honor. Healing

These last few days I've had a strong pull to write my feelings out, but the raging battle of avoidance and resistance were winning the war. I have a few different coping methods I use to allow for a space of healing to occur and aide in the restoration of balance. Deep in my heart, I know there are certain coping methods that are more effective, and yet, I turn to the "easier" methods to avoid the feelings that may come up because I need to keep moving. It's in the moment of stillness, that I feel this stirring that says, "take care of this" and the flood gates are open and the emotions come to the surface. As time passes, I am developing an understanding of the agreements I have made with myself that have created my limiting beliefs that give rise to the battle of avoidance and resistance instead of diving in to aide in my release. With time, I have noticed my battle with avoidance and resistance has lessened and I have become more patient with myself and my healing process.

For me, writing, painting and healing arts are powerful healers. As much as I dance with resistance, I am thankful that I place one foot in front of the other and say hello to these healers and engage with them despite the fear I feel at times. While engage with these powerful tools of healing, it takes a level of courage and bravery to do so, because the emotions that are evoked during the process can be quite overwhelming. But so worth it! The level of emotion that comes to the surface while engaging with these great healers astounds me, and allows me to honor my process and listen. Beyond witnessing my own story of healing, I have been able to witness the healing power these great methods offer to others I have had the honor of coaching. Silencing the noise in my head and tricking my ego to be quiet in order to create an honoring space to heal, transform, and surrender is what allows me to place one foot in front of the other to cope with my external world. Honoring myself and the stage I am in, allows for a deeper understanding of myself, and provides a safe space for me to cope and heal.

My brave steps this week. I'm working on a
few different paintings right now. Current
work in progress.
© 2018 Toni Becker, Artfully Healing
Whimsical Jewels

A few of my limiting beliefs that give rise to my resistance are.... "I'm not good enough." "I'm not smart enough." "My writing will sound stupid." "No one will read this or care, so what's the point?" "What happens if my painting sucks?" "What happens if I don't paint something good?" All of these thoughts and beliefs give rise to fear and open a space that could potentially hold me back from not moving forward. It's the moment of truth. I can choose to listen and not move forward, or I can allow the wave of healing to occur. The truth is, my writing is my own. It's my unique voice, and over the years I've worked hard to develop her, listen to her, and surrender to what she wants to say. Is it going to win a prize? NO and that's okay. Is it going to be grammatically correct? Probably not and that's okay. Does my writing really say I'm not smart? Well, I guess it could to some people... and that's okay. The truth is, I know I am smart and my writing is a healing space for myself that allows me to reflect and cope with life. And truly, who cares if no one reads it... Of course, I hope someone does. Not because I need them to, but because I hold the intention of healing for others as much as I do for myself. I hope that my words resonate with the reader, and in that space of connection allows for love to heal; inspiring you to do your own form of healing beyond the space of fear. The truth about my art and paintings is this... they too, are my unique voice and my art. Art is subjective and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I create art because I need to, and because I want to, even when resistance is high and I've had to wrestle myself to get in the studio and stand in front of my canvas. Yes, there are times painting can be a painful process for me, but the magic that happens because I show up in front of the canvas, I have trouble placing into words. The in between stages of each canvas, undoubtedly always brings about more fear because it's usually a jumbled mess, and my ego likes to step in and say "I told you so." Really, what did you tell me? That I wasn't good enough? It's in that space that spirit whispers..."yes you are, keep going, you got this." It's in that moment that my heart says, "I believe in you and I love you." And let me tell you, because I chose to listen to my heart and spirit, there have been several canvases I have stood in front of, in utter disbelief that they were mine. And in that beautiful, magical moment, I've felt an indescribable joy. My limiting beliefs are fairly universal and shared by many people. It's what we decide to do with those constricting beliefs that matters. Today I chose to shut them off, told my fear to kiss my ass, and sat down to write. Yesterday I did the same and lovingly picked up my brushes to paint. It felt so damn good to open to the space of healing and allow myself to be in the present moment, silencing the noise of fear.

Today, I invite you to move forward. Engage in that healing space, open up to the possibilities waiting for you. Tell fear to kiss your ass. Be brave and move forward. Allow your spirit and heart to emerge, and do what your being called to do. Do you feel the urge to write? To paint? To breathe? To call and connect with someone? To walk outside? To take the first steps to be more healthy? Whatever it is... take the first step. The second step gets easier and the reward of moving forward, and connecting with your inner voice is greater than what I can describe to you. I have felt it myself many times and witnessed it with those I have had the honor of coaching. I believe in you and I'm holding a loving space of healing for you.

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Late night writings

Inspiration. Do you ever notice when yours comes? Do you pay attention to this quiet voice that gives us big ideas or do you ignore it because the timing is inconvenient? For me the answers are yes, yes, and yes. I have found that the voice of inspiration comes when I least expect it... in the shower, walking in the woods, in the middle of the night, when I'm driving down the road, observing other artist's work, looking at the wonders of nature, observing bright, bold colors, listening to music, and sometimes in the middle of a conversation. Lately my ideas and inspiration have come during the night. I'll awake from a sound sleep and have all of these ideas in my head. I then feel this sense of urgency to hurry and write them down. I have been known to ignore them, because it's the middle of the night and well... I'm sleeping and I'm tired. I've learned though, that most of the time when you ignore that little voice, the inspiration goes away and doesn't return until the next big idea. Try as I might, I can never conjure up the inspiration or feelings that were invoked at the time inspiration spoke to me.

Lately my inspiration has been coupled with my emotional content and what I'm processing internally. Time weighs heavy on my heart and on my mind. When your staring Father Time in the face wondering when the clock will stop ticking, it definitely raises all kinds of uncertainty and a level of emotions I can't place into words. That's my current story right now. It's not an easy story to tell, because right now there is a vulnerability that comes with an authentic raw emotion that cuts to my core, leaving my heart aching and a sickness in my belly. I have wrestled with myself internally and went back and forth about sharing my feelings. I feel very vulnerable and emotionally raw. That's my truth and my story. The wrestling is over. I've decided to share it because it's healing for me. A couple weeks ago, in the middle of the night, inspiration called and I had no choice but to listen. This time it was about my dear momma.

I've been called to write about her a few times over the years. She's a very influential part of who I am as a woman and as a mother. In December, I was awakened from a very powerful dream, with the same sense of urgency to record my thoughts and feelings. I still carry my dream message with me, because I lovingly talked with my mother the day after the dream. December was a really stressful month. At the beginning of the month, my dear mother was hospitalized for several days, on 12/13 we experienced the anniversary of 9 years without my brother Jon, and on 12/15 my husband said goodbye to his brother. It was a really tough month in our family. My dream came the night before my brother's anniversary and it was so powerful. In my dream, my soul openly spoke to my mother with a pure love I've never experienced before. I have grieved the loss of my brother, HARD, for the first few years after he died and thankfully now when the anniversary of his death arrives, it's an honored space more than a sad, grief space. I take the time to honor his life and what he meant to me while he was here. For my mother, it's a lot different. I don't pretend to know what she goes through as a mother losing her son, and when I think about it, the feelings almost break me. In the dream, I shared that pain with her, and in that moment I could feel the tremendous pain of her heavy loss and it was unimaginable. During that moment of love, we sat and openly talked with one another sharing our love for one another. When I awoke from the dream I was crying. I felt the need to write it down, and realized I had a few things I needed to say to my dear mom. Instead of popping out of bed to quickly write it down, I trusted myself to remember what I needed to say to her. For some reason, I didn't fear losing it, quite possibly because it was so powerful and the emotions I felt were quite deep.

Over the years, I have spoken with individuals who have lost a sibling and I've read books on grief and this particular loss. In my own research and in the pages I read, a lot of siblings shared they felt neglected by their parents after their sibling died. When holidays would come, they expressed the same type of experiences... Instead of celebrating life and a joyous time of togetherness during the holiday/birthday/etc, the parents focused on the death of their child and that they weren't there to celebrate with them. For a lot of children who have lost a sibling, there can be a sense of survivor's guilt with irrational thoughts and feelings that come as a result of this tremendous loss. Thankfully, I have NEVER had to experience those feelings. I absolutely went through survivor's guilt, but it was part of my grieving process, not because my mother, or father for that matter, caused the feelings. In my dream, I felt my mother's broken heart and her feelings of loss. Her heart was whole and full of love prior to Jon's death, and after this tremendous loss she felt incomplete, broken, and her heart was missing the other half.

In my dream, the purity and power of her love was clearly communicated to me. Her soul spoke so lovingly to mine, sharing that Jon and I were the true loves of her life, and with him gone, her heart felt incomplete. As I share this, I can feel her pain and her love simultaneously. It immediately brings me to tears and makes my heart ache. My soul so beautifully expressed my understanding, and how loved I felt by her despite her burden of grief. In my dream I thanked her for her love and for always making me feel wanted, despite missing the other part of her heart. This dream was such a gift to my heart, healing in its own way. The next day, (my brother's anniversary) I called and thanked her for her gift of unconditional love, for allowing me to be the love of her life, and for always loving me just as I am, nothing more or less. We cried together and expressed our love for one another. That moment, in dream and in our phone conversation, will be something I will hold in my heart forever.

A couple weeks ago, after being asleep for a little while, I was suddenly wide awake. During the day, I had some pretty terrible news about my mother's health and I was processing everything before drifting off to sleep. When I awoke, I was really groggy and quite tired. Emotionally I was spent. I really wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, pushing my ideas and thoughts to the side, forgetting that I had been woken by the voice of inspiration. I can't lie, I contemplated it for a few minutes, and then told her to go away that I was tired, and I really didn't want to deal with the emotional content of her inspiration. Somewhere deep inside me there was this voice... "If you don't go write it down and write it out, you will regret it." Then like a flood, these ideas, thoughts, feelings, and MEMORIES had come to me in that moment and quite frankly, I didn't want to forget them. Begrudgingly I got up. I went to my studio, and started writing in my journal. For 2 hours, I wrote. I remembered things, I hadn't remembered and saw things from a different set of lenses. A new pair of glasses. My heart hurt and my body shook from my sobs, but there I sat writing until I couldn't write anymore. When I finished writing and my tears stopped flowing, I felt so much better. I saw things differently. I also had this sense of "Knowing" that wasn't there before.

I have a Rumi journal that has his beautiful quotes on each page. In the silent hours of the night, I scribbled on the pages of my journal about love, beauty, and childhood. I wrote about motherhood and the blessings of love that I have received. Perfectly aligned with my late night writings were these 4 Rumi quotes: "Love is a cloud that scatters pearls." "God created your wings not to be dormant. As long as you are alive you must try more and more to use your wings to show you're alive." "Thankfulness brings you to the place where the Beloved lives." "You think because you understand "one" you must also understand "two," because one and one make two. But you must also understand "and." Each quote, magically aligned for a deeper knowing and sense of gratitude that I had listened to the voice inside me, calling to scribble on my pages.

My momma... What best describes this woman I call Mother? Is it grace or beauty? Is it pure love and loyalty? Is it strength and fire? Is it tenderness? Is it thoughtful and kind? Is it protective and fierce? I'd say all of these are perfect descriptions of the woman I have the honor to call mom. A few months ago, if you had asked me what my greatest loss in life had been, I would have told you, hands down, my brother. Now staring at the possibility of losing my mother, without really knowing when, and on a much more rapid time table, I can easily say... her. She will be my greatest loss. I haven't even felt her loss yet and I can say without a doubt this will be my greatest loss. She is my beginning. The roots in my tree. And what do you do when your tree has been uprooted?

42 years ago, I was a little "seedling" in the tree of life called my mother, or as I like to call her... mommy or momma. She has lovingly guided me throughout my life and really placed a solid foundation for me as a woman. Any words I use, will be inadequate for describing my gratitude and love for this dear woman. She is pure love and embodies it in her core. My descriptive words of love barely scratch the surface of who she is and my love for her. From the time, she knew she was pregnant with me, she loved me. She did what she could to protect me, and cared for me with a love so deep I can feel it in my core. Throughout childhood into adulthood, she has been a fierce lioness protecting me, her cub. She has been a strong and fierce, a force to be reckoned with. God help you, if you did anything to hurt Jon or I. These days, it is I that protects her. And quite honestly, my actions pale in comparison to hers. Her love has always been flawless and gentle, unconditional and forgiving. She was a good teacher of love, friendship, and how to be a good mother. Her teachings showed me taught me to stand on my own feet as a woman. She made sure to give me the tools I would need to be successful in this life. I could go on and on... but you get my point.

So now here I am, looking at my time with this incredible woman. Life is short, and her time is being
shortened by cancer. It makes me feel all the feels. Some would ask for healing and would beg Father time for more time, but that's not where I am in my journey. I accept that this is where I am and where she is. I surrender to this process, knowing I can't control it. The only thing I can do is love her fiercely and support her decisions as she rides the last wave. I have appreciated every second I have had with her. She has loved me with a depth I am inadequate in describing and even father time can't take that from me because love is eternally infinite.