I am sad.
I am sad because I miss all those people who have gone before me, my grandmothers and my grandfather, my mother and my father, my aunts and uncles, my cousins and friends. Gone are the days of being able to ask the questions that informed my wisdom. I miss the unspoken love through their glances and their punishing stares. I miss their reprimands and admonishments that have influenced my life and the decisions I’ve made along the way. These loving people have molded me into the person I am. What am I to do? Occasionally I cry, occasionally I lie, and then there are times when I just sit still, unaware of anything around me and everything about me.
I am afraid.
I am afraid because I feel alone. On whom do I lean when I’m too weak to carry? With whom can I scream and bitch and know they will not abandon? Who will set me straight when my path has become jagged? Who will dry my tears? Who will notice and appreciate my insignificant contributions or even my significant ones? Who will unearth the wisdom of their struggles with hopes that mine will be few?
I am angry.
My anger melts into anguish. Who will I love without concern that my love will be abused? What stories have I missed because I forgot to ask? Are there any pre-existing conditions? Who did I forget to tell of my love for them? Did my mother know how to swim? Did she know how much I truly loved her? Did I ask? Did my dad want more of my company or for me to leave him alone? Did I ask? Did I share my stories? Did they want to know? Did I apologize for everything bad that I ever did? Should I have? Did I do anything bad? Should I have known? Did I listen? What did I miss? What did they miss?
Could there have been a few more years, four more months, one more hour?
I search for the pictures that give me complete stories. They are difficult to find. I wait for the words that have been familiar to me all of these years, the silence is filled with hope of messages ethereal. I long for the touch, the familiar smell, the timber of the voice, their footsteps in the distance, their music, their sorrow. Something. One little something that speaks of the life I once spent with them.
I am tired.
I am tired of missing, tired of longing, tired of crying, tired of trying to figure it all out. I am exhausted of going through boxes and rearranging heirloom furniture, stacking more dishes and hanging more pots. I am disturbed that I have to think again and again of who would benefit from some small token of their legacy, yet overlooking the one person that would cherish it beyond life itself. Who would like the sofa? Who could use the crystal vase? Should I give or should I sell? What about the music? Will I ever play that cello that stands stoically stiff in its new and unfamiliar spot? Do I have time to re-string the guitar that’s been unstrung for half of my life?
I struggle.
How disconcerting it is to be happy that my mother died when she did because of her pain and discomfort and the diminished quality of her life. How uncomfortably comfortable it is to say that my dad would have been beside himself, as the distinguished and proud man that he was, had he shrunk to something so little and frail, a weak and unrecognizable man. Can I get away with being almost giddy that my aunt, the closest example of a saint walking on this planet died a timely death because she so wanted to be held in the palm of God’s hand. Which I can with all my mind, body and soul bet that that’s exactly where she is. These are the things we think to say but hardly ever do. Or we say them because they seem so right to say. How do I know that any of this is true? But really, does it matter?
I am not at all disappointed
…or discouraged or disheartened that I feel these things. In fact there is a freedom and a sense of joy that I am able not only to feel them, but to feel them genuinely and without judgment. Those that have died and whom I have loved and miss terribly are the same ones who have prepared me for these moments. And I guess what I have gathered through this last year or so is that they have not left me. All the great of them is inside me. Our language is quiet and familiar, our love is inherent, our relationships are everlasting through spirit and the divine.
What else I know is that in being sad I am filled with promise, that in being angry I can decompress. Being afraid has only to do with what I don’t know, and once I rest I will no longer be tired. I do understand that sometimes I will have to make sense out of uncomfortable things by giving human reason to them and living with uncomfortable things by handing them over to the divine. Believing in the humanness of it and the spirituality in it I can gingerly let go, albeit slowly, those with whom I have spent most of my life. For me to get it there has to be credibility and faith. The best way to be credible is to be honest and the only way to truly deal is to have faith. Faith in the process, faith in the unknown and faith in my ability to be honest and free. God must be with me.
I only hope that as others travel similar journeys that they have the courage, the faith, the joy to give into all that they feel. To not back away from the uncomfortable, to live in the sadness, to be free to feel whatever is necessary. These are the moments that solidify our character and give us the foundation to carry it through no matter how shattering, how tragic, how uncomfortably comfortable it feels to say and feel the most unlikely things.
We can be sad. There is always promise in sadness.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
When Comfort Becomes a Burden
I am a 52 year old women ( I don't mention that to too many people although I never deny my age if asked) I'm African American and am obesely overweight according to NIH standards, but I wear it well. I come from a genetic background of diabetes, hypertension, multiple sclerosis and heart disease. I am a prime candidate for any one or all of these. However, so far so good. At least since my last check up.I do have allergies, and an intolerance for wheat and probably gluten, my hair is thinning so my intolerance may be more serious than I realize. Although I prefer to think this issue is due to stress. I'm working on it...
At the onset of my mother's MS in 1975 my parents very seriously changed our eating habits. White food products were a no-no. No white rice, no white sugar, no white bread or pasta, only brown rice, brown sugar and brown bread, including pasta. We ate no red meat and fasted often. Daily multi vitamin intake was a must and we read books like the Sugar Blues, Back to Eden and the Vitamin Bible. We also read every ingredient label on every package A habit which was difficult to break until maybe five years ago. We somehow missed the elimination of dairy, but we bought and ate raw cheeses. We needed our calcium in our quasi vegetarian diet and got it there. I felt like I had kicked the habit, was pretty familiar with the foods I consumed regularly and just stopped paying close attention to labels.
AS I look back it's clear that I had a pretty solid foundation on what and what not to eat. I learned to enjoy different foods and tastes, and learned how to prepare many delicious dishes that were healthy and tasty. In those days there weren't that many alternative foods to sate even the under active taste bud. There are so many alternative wheat products now, so making the transition from an avid bread enthusiast to living without has been easier than one would think.
What this lifestyle change has done for me is made me appreciate how wonderful it is to be sensitive to my body and the messages it emits when I fall into some bad habits. It is easier to let go of bread, dairy and sugar and a great way to keep my health predispositions at bay. Wonderfully, grocers, organic growers, and food scientists have been able to supply us conscientious objectors with a diverse selection of choices; a number of healthy alternatives that sustain, and please the palate. With my history I am fortunate to understand the necessity of quality food, especially since Americans have decided that bigger and more is better even at the risk of poor health. We plump and grow and color and sweeten and enhance our foods in so many dangerous ways. We even purport that these foods are healthy even though they may contain partially hydrogenated oils and MSG and canola oil, and high fructose corn syrup..I could go on. And I realize that we're trying to get better by eliminating trans fats and becoming more aware of diseases that appear to be the result of all of these unhealthy by products that we ingest. But it never hurts to have more information on what is healthy and what can be unhealthy.
I got married to a wonderful man in 2007. He's Greek and eats a lot of bread. It just seemed the right thing to do to join him in his joyous consumption. Understand, I never disliked wheat. Wheat just disliked me. But in our courting and ensuing commitment, I forgot my self and my body and began to consume all of the foods I enjoyed without any filters or guidelines, especially during the periods when we would travel to Greece.
My father died, suddenly, last year. I'm sure you can imagine how losing a parent must be. but I cannot begin to describe his death's impact, it was clear that I was now an orphan. It was and has been very difficult to process this. Even at my age this new place in my life is a difficult pill to swallow and a very strange place to be. I, most of my life, have defined my life by my parents. And now that they're both gone I've lost touch with who I really am. I have too many opportunities to consider and no boundaries to protect. I'm all over the place. I have a huge sense of freedom, no overseers, no approvals to seek, but also of vulnerability and fear, in that there is no-one with the innate obligation to protect me at any cost. Its clear that I have to be a big girl now and take care of myself. And when in deep doo-doo hope that the friends and family that I hold dear love and care for me enough to help me take care of myself.
In the last year it has been apparent that I have not been taking care of myself. I've gained about 15 pounds that have put me into a whole new category of BMI The weight gain and poor eating habits has hindered my agility and my spirit. I do have genetic predispositions to diabetes and hypertension, and perhaps even MS. I know the risks of my behaviour and yet, I suppose I sought refuge in these unhealthy foods and behaviours to assuage my sorrow and comfort me through my grief.
it's been almost a year now since my dad passed, and 11 years since the passing of my mother, for whom I don't believe I properly grieved. But recently I have been able to work through some stuff. I feel a little stronger, and find it necessary to let go of my poor habits. I had forgotten myself in a such an unhealthy way. My eating habits deteriorated to such low levels that I believe I really did some damage. I have been unable to move forward as if trying to walk knee-deep through quicksand. I am and have been stuck, spiritually and physically.
Around this time of year I have a good friend who invites many to participate in his detoxification program. I have participated in his and other detox programs in the past and am always grateful for the outcomes. Cleansing the body is one of the most beneficial things we can do to manage our health and spirit. Detoxing provides me with more energy, clarity of mind, diminishing stress and just feeling lite on my feet. I would like to share my journey with you as I participate in this seasonal detox. It is my intention to not only create better health but eliminate some other junk that keeps my from moving forward and lightening my load. I hope you come along with me on this journey of cleansing in all aspects of my life.
Thanks for reading. Next Post - Detox The Beginning.
At the onset of my mother's MS in 1975 my parents very seriously changed our eating habits. White food products were a no-no. No white rice, no white sugar, no white bread or pasta, only brown rice, brown sugar and brown bread, including pasta. We ate no red meat and fasted often. Daily multi vitamin intake was a must and we read books like the Sugar Blues, Back to Eden and the Vitamin Bible. We also read every ingredient label on every package A habit which was difficult to break until maybe five years ago. We somehow missed the elimination of dairy, but we bought and ate raw cheeses. We needed our calcium in our quasi vegetarian diet and got it there. I felt like I had kicked the habit, was pretty familiar with the foods I consumed regularly and just stopped paying close attention to labels.
AS I look back it's clear that I had a pretty solid foundation on what and what not to eat. I learned to enjoy different foods and tastes, and learned how to prepare many delicious dishes that were healthy and tasty. In those days there weren't that many alternative foods to sate even the under active taste bud. There are so many alternative wheat products now, so making the transition from an avid bread enthusiast to living without has been easier than one would think.
What this lifestyle change has done for me is made me appreciate how wonderful it is to be sensitive to my body and the messages it emits when I fall into some bad habits. It is easier to let go of bread, dairy and sugar and a great way to keep my health predispositions at bay. Wonderfully, grocers, organic growers, and food scientists have been able to supply us conscientious objectors with a diverse selection of choices; a number of healthy alternatives that sustain, and please the palate. With my history I am fortunate to understand the necessity of quality food, especially since Americans have decided that bigger and more is better even at the risk of poor health. We plump and grow and color and sweeten and enhance our foods in so many dangerous ways. We even purport that these foods are healthy even though they may contain partially hydrogenated oils and MSG and canola oil, and high fructose corn syrup..I could go on. And I realize that we're trying to get better by eliminating trans fats and becoming more aware of diseases that appear to be the result of all of these unhealthy by products that we ingest. But it never hurts to have more information on what is healthy and what can be unhealthy.
I got married to a wonderful man in 2007. He's Greek and eats a lot of bread. It just seemed the right thing to do to join him in his joyous consumption. Understand, I never disliked wheat. Wheat just disliked me. But in our courting and ensuing commitment, I forgot my self and my body and began to consume all of the foods I enjoyed without any filters or guidelines, especially during the periods when we would travel to Greece.
My father died, suddenly, last year. I'm sure you can imagine how losing a parent must be. but I cannot begin to describe his death's impact, it was clear that I was now an orphan. It was and has been very difficult to process this. Even at my age this new place in my life is a difficult pill to swallow and a very strange place to be. I, most of my life, have defined my life by my parents. And now that they're both gone I've lost touch with who I really am. I have too many opportunities to consider and no boundaries to protect. I'm all over the place. I have a huge sense of freedom, no overseers, no approvals to seek, but also of vulnerability and fear, in that there is no-one with the innate obligation to protect me at any cost. Its clear that I have to be a big girl now and take care of myself. And when in deep doo-doo hope that the friends and family that I hold dear love and care for me enough to help me take care of myself.
In the last year it has been apparent that I have not been taking care of myself. I've gained about 15 pounds that have put me into a whole new category of BMI The weight gain and poor eating habits has hindered my agility and my spirit. I do have genetic predispositions to diabetes and hypertension, and perhaps even MS. I know the risks of my behaviour and yet, I suppose I sought refuge in these unhealthy foods and behaviours to assuage my sorrow and comfort me through my grief.
it's been almost a year now since my dad passed, and 11 years since the passing of my mother, for whom I don't believe I properly grieved. But recently I have been able to work through some stuff. I feel a little stronger, and find it necessary to let go of my poor habits. I had forgotten myself in a such an unhealthy way. My eating habits deteriorated to such low levels that I believe I really did some damage. I have been unable to move forward as if trying to walk knee-deep through quicksand. I am and have been stuck, spiritually and physically.
Around this time of year I have a good friend who invites many to participate in his detoxification program. I have participated in his and other detox programs in the past and am always grateful for the outcomes. Cleansing the body is one of the most beneficial things we can do to manage our health and spirit. Detoxing provides me with more energy, clarity of mind, diminishing stress and just feeling lite on my feet. I would like to share my journey with you as I participate in this seasonal detox. It is my intention to not only create better health but eliminate some other junk that keeps my from moving forward and lightening my load. I hope you come along with me on this journey of cleansing in all aspects of my life.
Thanks for reading. Next Post - Detox The Beginning.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
...today I rest?
December 25th has come and gone. I'm happy and sad about it. I'm happy because the pressure of performance is over. I am sad because I had no time to really enjoy it. While Thanksgiving is truly my favorite holiday because it is the day to remember the things to be thankful for, and to appreciate, and shared with those closest to me. Christmas is MY holiday. It's when I get to share all that I create with others. I make cards, I bake cookies, I make my gifts and decorate the house. This is MY holiday. However, this year it was not MY holiday. I started making cards, I'm still working on them. Luckily for me the theme of the card gives me wiggle room in which to send. I have two more gifts to complete (knitting projects). I did not make cookies. I was still decorating my house at around 3:00 Christmas eve. And have you seen me here? Have had no chance to do any writing whatsoever. Then there is my husband, well I'm just hoping that he still loves me for the hell I've put him through in the last couple of weeks. Thank God for him.
But.. back to the story. So in the weeks leading up to this glorious holiday I had been feeling really resentful. My job was highjacking all of my time. I was unable to do all the things I love for this holiday. (No cookies for them this year) But as much as I felt this way I reall hesitated to say it out loud becuase truly I am happy as we all should be, those of us who are employed anyway, to have my job. I don't want to wish it away in some selfish, childish manner. And quiet as its kept I like my job. Of course I fantsize about doing other things, but my job has it's plus moments and I am contiuously on a learning curve. BUT... that being said I was feeling resentful... I had all kinds of plans early on and was looking forward to jumping right in. Instead I found myself at work late at night, sometimes until 11:00o'clock, often getting home too exhausted even to eat. What's not to be resentful about that?
But as I sit here now, still in my pjs in my bed. I realize that it's so much better to have a good excuse for not getting things done than my usual excuse of having "too many projects" "I haven't had a chance to get anything done. I've been working really late the last couple of weeks" And I still have a lot of work to do for "work". And eventhough I am on a vacation I am concerned about what will greet me as I open those glass doors on Monday morning. But as it stands today I am exhausted and have been for the last couple of weeks. I need to give my brain a rest.
And what did I really miss? OK so I didn't get to be as creative this Christmas. What of it? Everything has turned out ok, really. So my friends haven't received a Christmas card this year. What can I do about it? Will they admonish me, I think not. My husband and I managed to get to every party to which we were invited, with wine and gift in tow. That's unusual. We're usually too busy. And by the way, I think he still loves me. I managed to sing at church on Christmas morning even though I awoke at 4:00 that very morning unable to produce an audible word, much less chirp a note.
In breaking with our tradition of spending time at our extended family's home on Christmas day, we had our families over for a Christmas day fish fry, although I report that I was unaware of the true definition of a fish fry which typically includes more than one type of fish, we had only one. Even though there was only one type of fish, Catfish, it was tasty enough that others weren't missed. We talked loud and laughed as we are wont to do. We had special guests. My brother who was the happiest he's been or I have seen him in a long time. My aunts "play" daughter Psm - don't let her hear me say that - surprised us. She is spiritually quite powerful. My friend Linda's mom from El Paso Texas. She and my father have lots in common both having struggled through the civil rights movement years ago both tenacious enough to fight for change, which in their way both accomplished. Linda and I are living in ways that result from the benefits of the fruits of their struggles. Linda and I fancied ourselves taping their conversations and filming them reminiscing of the movements and the players and the outcomes, but it wasn't the right time, it seemed. It never really came up while we were there. They as we all were there to enjoy the community of family and the shared experience of the meaning of Christmas. So there were no cameras and no tape recorders. Perhaps a missed opportunity, but perhaps not. Alonzo even showed up for the celebration. Imagine that? I need to call him, actually, to make sure he got home with no incident. My husband's family was there as well. Their kids are so smart that they hooked up our Wii console which my husband and I bought each other for Christmas. Incidentally none of the adults could master the hook from beginning to end. Thanks Konstantinos for your precocious expertise. My husband and I intend to get a good workout before life once again gets too busy...
All being said I think a good time was had by all, food was good and it was good for all of us to be together.
I was/still am tired as hell. I'm in the bed now even, and its a quarter to noon. (I'm usually up on days off around 7:00 am) I'm also sick, but I knew that was coming at least two weeks ago, since I wasn't sleeping But I had to keep going, at least to get something done.
Its not all done, though. But I'm not worried or stressed about it. I have the time to relax and get them done quietly and without pressure.
Today, the day after the first day of Christmas,I am staying in the bed. I am writing here, watching Fools Gold, intermittent knitting and praising my husband because he's cleaning up and will probably feed me. Yummy leftovers...
I really have no business being resentful. I made it through. But more importantly all whom I love also made it through, no incident, just joy. And the best of all, Christmas will go on for another two weeks or so. Therein lies the real joy. I have at least a couple of more weeks to realize that there is no reason to resent anything.
Merry Christmas all!
But.. back to the story. So in the weeks leading up to this glorious holiday I had been feeling really resentful. My job was highjacking all of my time. I was unable to do all the things I love for this holiday. (No cookies for them this year) But as much as I felt this way I reall hesitated to say it out loud becuase truly I am happy as we all should be, those of us who are employed anyway, to have my job. I don't want to wish it away in some selfish, childish manner. And quiet as its kept I like my job. Of course I fantsize about doing other things, but my job has it's plus moments and I am contiuously on a learning curve. BUT... that being said I was feeling resentful... I had all kinds of plans early on and was looking forward to jumping right in. Instead I found myself at work late at night, sometimes until 11:00o'clock, often getting home too exhausted even to eat. What's not to be resentful about that?
But as I sit here now, still in my pjs in my bed. I realize that it's so much better to have a good excuse for not getting things done than my usual excuse of having "too many projects" "I haven't had a chance to get anything done. I've been working really late the last couple of weeks" And I still have a lot of work to do for "work". And eventhough I am on a vacation I am concerned about what will greet me as I open those glass doors on Monday morning. But as it stands today I am exhausted and have been for the last couple of weeks. I need to give my brain a rest.
And what did I really miss? OK so I didn't get to be as creative this Christmas. What of it? Everything has turned out ok, really. So my friends haven't received a Christmas card this year. What can I do about it? Will they admonish me, I think not. My husband and I managed to get to every party to which we were invited, with wine and gift in tow. That's unusual. We're usually too busy. And by the way, I think he still loves me. I managed to sing at church on Christmas morning even though I awoke at 4:00 that very morning unable to produce an audible word, much less chirp a note.
In breaking with our tradition of spending time at our extended family's home on Christmas day, we had our families over for a Christmas day fish fry, although I report that I was unaware of the true definition of a fish fry which typically includes more than one type of fish, we had only one. Even though there was only one type of fish, Catfish, it was tasty enough that others weren't missed. We talked loud and laughed as we are wont to do. We had special guests. My brother who was the happiest he's been or I have seen him in a long time. My aunts "play" daughter Psm - don't let her hear me say that - surprised us. She is spiritually quite powerful. My friend Linda's mom from El Paso Texas. She and my father have lots in common both having struggled through the civil rights movement years ago both tenacious enough to fight for change, which in their way both accomplished. Linda and I are living in ways that result from the benefits of the fruits of their struggles. Linda and I fancied ourselves taping their conversations and filming them reminiscing of the movements and the players and the outcomes, but it wasn't the right time, it seemed. It never really came up while we were there. They as we all were there to enjoy the community of family and the shared experience of the meaning of Christmas. So there were no cameras and no tape recorders. Perhaps a missed opportunity, but perhaps not. Alonzo even showed up for the celebration. Imagine that? I need to call him, actually, to make sure he got home with no incident. My husband's family was there as well. Their kids are so smart that they hooked up our Wii console which my husband and I bought each other for Christmas. Incidentally none of the adults could master the hook from beginning to end. Thanks Konstantinos for your precocious expertise. My husband and I intend to get a good workout before life once again gets too busy...
All being said I think a good time was had by all, food was good and it was good for all of us to be together.
I was/still am tired as hell. I'm in the bed now even, and its a quarter to noon. (I'm usually up on days off around 7:00 am) I'm also sick, but I knew that was coming at least two weeks ago, since I wasn't sleeping But I had to keep going, at least to get something done.
Its not all done, though. But I'm not worried or stressed about it. I have the time to relax and get them done quietly and without pressure.
Today, the day after the first day of Christmas,I am staying in the bed. I am writing here, watching Fools Gold, intermittent knitting and praising my husband because he's cleaning up and will probably feed me. Yummy leftovers...
I really have no business being resentful. I made it through. But more importantly all whom I love also made it through, no incident, just joy. And the best of all, Christmas will go on for another two weeks or so. Therein lies the real joy. I have at least a couple of more weeks to realize that there is no reason to resent anything.
Merry Christmas all!
Monday, November 30, 2009
On Saturday, December 5th my very good friend Carman, Lena and I will be hosting a gathering of women for a Women's Spiritual Renewal and Meditation. It will be a great event with lots of exciting opportunities. Carman will be presenting a session on Creating a Sacred Space and I will be presenting a session on the Magic of Creativity. There will also be body therapies available, Massage Therapy, Reiki, Reflexology. We will have a meet and great morning session and closing meditation as well. It will be fun for all who will attend.
In March of 2008 I started a not-for-profit The Third Place. The place where you can go and honor your creative spirit. It's not an actual place, or in a specific location, per se. It's anyplace where we can find our creative spirit and put it into action.
Putting something together like this has been a challenge, since I have a full time job, a mortgage payment and a husband. But I am devoted to making this endeavor work. So my first talk on Saturday, the 5th will be my inauguration into sharing my experience and joy in working the creative. I have conducted knittng classes and facilitated New Years Eve collage sessions, but this will be my first formal entry into the celebration of the creative self. And as always with the fear of new things, I hope everybody is interested and nobody is interested, if you know what I mean. I often felt this way when I first started singing. I hoped that no one was listening and everyone was listening. I wanted to sing but I didn't want to sing. All nervous and no nerve. I do know, though that I will do my best. This has always been the case.
Creativity is so expansive and permeates every fiber of our lives. We seem to be so unhappy or disatisfied these days, with the economics and unrest in our world. There is no better remedy than to take that anxious energy and manifest it into making something beautiful, expressive and meaniful, if just to our own selves. Creative works have a great deal of power; they fulfill the soul. Creativity is truly our manna from the heavens, it is our soul food.
My journey has been somewhat extreme. I have explored so much, and thought that I would do so many different things and yet I still haven't come to that place where I can say without a doubt I have made it; I am completely fulfilled. In fact I doubt that I will ever say that. My life is in constant motion. There is not too much to learn or experience. But what I do know is that I want for the rest of my journey to be all creative. That everything I do from this point forward is from my creative spirit and a manifestation of my divinty. Without judgement, without concern for acceptance and with reckless abandon.
In March of 2008 I started a not-for-profit The Third Place. The place where you can go and honor your creative spirit. It's not an actual place, or in a specific location, per se. It's anyplace where we can find our creative spirit and put it into action.
Putting something together like this has been a challenge, since I have a full time job, a mortgage payment and a husband. But I am devoted to making this endeavor work. So my first talk on Saturday, the 5th will be my inauguration into sharing my experience and joy in working the creative. I have conducted knittng classes and facilitated New Years Eve collage sessions, but this will be my first formal entry into the celebration of the creative self. And as always with the fear of new things, I hope everybody is interested and nobody is interested, if you know what I mean. I often felt this way when I first started singing. I hoped that no one was listening and everyone was listening. I wanted to sing but I didn't want to sing. All nervous and no nerve. I do know, though that I will do my best. This has always been the case.
Creativity is so expansive and permeates every fiber of our lives. We seem to be so unhappy or disatisfied these days, with the economics and unrest in our world. There is no better remedy than to take that anxious energy and manifest it into making something beautiful, expressive and meaniful, if just to our own selves. Creative works have a great deal of power; they fulfill the soul. Creativity is truly our manna from the heavens, it is our soul food.
My journey has been somewhat extreme. I have explored so much, and thought that I would do so many different things and yet I still haven't come to that place where I can say without a doubt I have made it; I am completely fulfilled. In fact I doubt that I will ever say that. My life is in constant motion. There is not too much to learn or experience. But what I do know is that I want for the rest of my journey to be all creative. That everything I do from this point forward is from my creative spirit and a manifestation of my divinty. Without judgement, without concern for acceptance and with reckless abandon.
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