Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Creating a Life You Love’

Backgrounds

The Beginnings

A couple of days ago I finished a painting that had been hanging around for months. While experimenting with the concept of creating backgrounds, I dripped some pink and yellow paint on wet paper. The values and shapes were interesting, but I didn’t know what to do with them. I became overly involved with the background; I seemed to want it to be the focus of my painting.

This morning, when I stopped at an interesting place (aka “finished the painting”), I began to compare and contrast creative processes: art versus life. I do that a lot. Painting has taught me so much about my own evolution—as an artist, but mostly as a person.

Maybe some people (myself included) can get stuck becoming overly concerned with “making something” of their childhoods, of their backgrounds and origins.

Could it be less grueling to just create something interesting ON TOP OF IT? To make some bold, blue marks and see what happens? What could our lives become if we allowed talents, interests, and inner wisdom to guide the way?

Years later, we gain enough perspective to see the Big Picture; we notice the origins and the backgrounds, but they are not the focus. The focus is now the finished product—the “Work of Art” this life has become.

As we look closely, we can see the pieces, remember the details, even focus on one or two tiny pieces at a time—a success here, a failure there—but the most grace-filled miracle is how, when we step back and see it as a whole, it all fits together perfectly to create a unique life. The One and Only You.

The One and Only You

The Finished Product

Read Full Post »

English Country House

English Country Home (I took this photo in 1989 when we took our Britain to Great Britain)

I began a 12-week Artist’s Way workshop at the beginning of January. Already my “Inner Artist” is enjoying the attention. I’m painting more and writing more. Below, I have written a bit about my process of awakening to a new level of creativity.

I have been daydreaming a lot lately. It feels like traveling to a country home–one of those thatched-roof beauties in the English countryside that has been closed up for a long, long time. Dusty and dark. Shutters on the windows. Sheets on the furniture.

Slowly, I open the front door. The air smells stagnant and woody, like long unread books and lonely dining room chairs. But then, curtains thrust aside, sunlight awakens the interior. Bright, lively colors emerge from slumber. Each room is a surprise as long forgotten joys emerge: Oh, that rocking chair! My hand mirror! I remember where I found those shells!

Discovered treasures warm my heart and kindle a fire of possibility. The Spirit of Adventure prods me to open more doors, pull up blinds, and allow breezes to pour through the windows. I race to see more, to love more, to dance in delight at the wonder of it all.

Why was it that I closed off this bit of myself? What caused me to think I no longer needed these parts of me? I have been living in three rooms, dependably going through the motions of life, all the while feeling closed in, uninspired, stuck, and bored. There have always been so many rooms. A mansion of rooms. Some forgotten; others, never explored.

I’ve been so afraid of the mistakes, the things that broke my heart and seemed to crush my soul. I thought if only I could curl up here in the corner, I could stay safe. Sorrow would roll over me and onto someone else.

But it has been sorrow’s companion, fear, that took up residence in my heart. Whispering warnings. Shouting horrifying scenarios. Until my energy was gone. It took so much not to listen.

NO MORE! The sun. The fresh air. The ideas. The dreams. They are all so full of energy.

I am remembering so many things I wanted to do “BEFORE.” Before the fear and sorrow began closing the windows, pulling the blinds, locking the doors. Run! Hide! Protect! Armor Up! Close Your Heart!

Too many days of rain and clouds. Winter cold. Dark, dark nights and foggy days. Weeks. Months. Years.

But Spring is here! Seeds planted long ago emerge, to grow, blossom, and flourish. This is my final chapter, my closing act. I have ample time for one more spectacular performance.

And they will say: “She saved her best for last.”

Read Full Post »

Acrylic paining by Barbie Dallmann

It’s Magic! (acrylic painting by Barbie Dallmann)

 

For nearly three months I’ve been practicing magic. I’ve been saying the magic words and intentionally engaging in magical practices. I have even been facilitating a magic group on Monday nights at Unity of Kanawha Valley. I can say with certainty, THE MAGIC has made a huge difference in my life.

You know the magic words. You learned them from your parents. You taught them to your children. We all say them often, usually without thinking about their power. I’m referring to the magical practice of gratitude and those sorcerous words: Thank you!

The most powerful insight for me has been the discovery of the chasm that lies between simply saying thank you and actually BEING wholeheartedly grateful. When I say thank you, I smile and feel a twinge of happiness. When I am engaged in wholehearted gratitude, I get a tingling that starts in my heart and moves out through my limbs. Sometimes I feel a chill and get goose bumps; other times, I sense waves of heat moving through me. Always, my body seems too small to hold the love surging through my cells. Often the joy leaks from my eyes.

At that level of gratitude, fear loses its stronghold. I am sufficient; I lack nothing. Every space of my being is filled by love, joy, and a sense of purpose. At those times, I am living the essence of “All is well.” It is magic! And it takes practice.

The MagicOne of the daily practices I learned from this book is listing ten things for which I am grateful and WHY I am grateful for each. I sanctify each entry with the words, “thank you, thank you, thank you.” When the list is finished, I read it aloud and allow myself to feel profoundly grateful. I literally breathe the gratitude into my lungs, feel it entering my bloodstream, and imagine it traveling into my heart and circulating throughout my body.

Even Facebook has become a gratitude extravaganza for me. When I see a post that makes me smile, I take a moment to think of the friend who posted it. I close my eyes, and give thanks for the ways in which that person has enriched my life. I imagine giving him or her a warm hug and whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you … for being YOU. My life is richer with you in it.” Then I open my eyes and click LIKE. When I see those who have “liked” one of my posts, I do the same thing, sending love and gratitude to each one. Facebook is no longer a waste of time nor a source of irritation; it has become an uplifting spiritual practice.

As Thanksgiving arrives and the countdown to Christmas begins, I will be choosing gratitude instead of stress, savoring the richness of the season instead of complaining about the traffic, and staking my claim to peace on earth, good will to men. Now that’s MAGICAL!

Read Full Post »

Full Moon

After I slipped down a muddy hillside, I sat in the mud and shot pictures of the moon. Some things are worth getting dirty for.

There is no doubt about it. Summer is winding down. Although the trees remain lush and green, an increasing number of dead leaves decorate my cottage deck. Sweeping them away this morning, I realized the days of denial are over. My intention to Create A Summer I Loved was fulfilled. Is it any wonder I’m dragging my feet a little? When must I officially declare summer over?

As a child, that happened on the first day of school. But here in Charleston, school started on August 11; I wasn’t even back from summer vacation yet! So, that doesn’t work. Labor Day? Well, that’s come and gone, and I’m still in a summer frame of mind. So, no, Labor Day isn’t the end of summer.

What about September 22, the official beginning of autumn? But I’ll be in San Antonio training with Brené Brown to become a Daring Way Facilitator. I can’t officially end summer while I’m still out of town. Nope. Can’t be done.

Yet, I know the leaves will turn and fall. The days will grow shorter. The nights will get cooler. Air conditioning will be turned off, and I’ll switch on the electric fireplace to combat the morning chill at the cottage. Perhaps I’ll be ready to say goodbye to summer when we set our clocks back to standard time.

It’s not really about summer being over. It’s a reluctance to release my “summer way of being.” I have enjoyed moving at a slower pace, skipping the morning make-up-and-hair routine, and being more spontaneous, adventurous, and fun. My summer has been a delightful balance of meaningful work and nurturing play.

But there are a lot of things that didn’t get done. I didn’t blog much; I didn’t write much. I haven’t put any effort at all into marketing my book. My website remains inadequate, and I have not yet cracked the owner’s manual of my new camera.

What did get done? Well, I worked 40 hours a week and completed all of my projects on time. Bills got paid. Grocery shopping done. Meals. Dishes. Dog walking. I watched the moon rise, hiked for hours in the woods, occasionally lounged in the sun in the middle of a workday, painted outdoors as the sun was rising, and sat talking on the deck late on a work night just because I didn’t want the time with my son to end.

If I’m going to move into fall and winter happily, I’ll need to take some of summer’s lessons with me. New priorities. New pleasures. More flexibility. A slower pace doesn’t mean nothing gets done. I want to continue to trust myself to get things done when they need to get done. Even blogging.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: