This has been week two of toughness, of seeing my attempts at good deeds go rather punished. Wow. Stepping back it's so fascinating to watch the very different angles and reasons we all come at things. I have had to face myself very squarely and see just how much I still want gold stars and kudos from my efforts and it's a trait I'd really like to let go of. I want to learn to move forward looking more for my rewards from within.

Everything is a process. There is no arrival. We hear this and think, "oh yes, I get it." But it's hard to own, hard not to keep looking towards a brighter future when we've accomplished "x" and then "x" and "x" which will finally make us feel accepted, real, fully adult, whatever.

But in reality you accomplish something that you thought would be the end all be all and it's usually it's just not. It's just a moment, often one you don't remember to celebrate because you're too busy to remember that it was so important, or as in my case these past two weeks, others are so disappointed with a particular aspect that it really ruins the fun and pride.

So yes, time to focus less on kudos possible from within and focus instead on those from within, and of course, my own private project - the book.

I am struggling through a revamp of my 3rd and 4th chapters of the novel and I think I need to strop struggling and let them be where they are right now. Inspiration comes to be slowly, unfolding in dreams and walks and conversations and internet searches. And that's okay. I love writing. I do. Sure it gets lonely and boring sitting here staring at the screen, and I find a myriad of ways to distract myself, but still I love it. I like to see what I've put on the page, and then I like to go back later and check if I still like it.

And amazingly sometimes I do. Now if my lines of writing could feel to me as beautiful as the above rows of lavender, or one of my very favorite songs called, "The Lines of My Earth" by Matthew Preston Slocum of "Six Pence None the Richer" I'd be pleased indeed.

 

I am on a journey to write a book, my very first book. I have been published in portions of another book, in print and online, but I have never completed and published my own book. And it's one of those things in life I really really want to accomplish, just for me. Oh sure, I'd love it to be a best seller. I'd love to finish the first book and have the publisher like it so much I receive an advance for the second one. That is the dream. So that I could go off to Europe and do deeper research on someplace other than the Internet.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Right now I'm on the journey of daily writing the book. Of daily thinking about the book. Of daily wondering about the book. And it's quite a journey, one that I'm only a quarter of the way or so into.

I have had a big struggle from adolescence onward to really show up for myself, to follow my own bliss, my own creative drum. I so love the collaborative process that instead I would usually jump on someone else's creative process in order to be included, in order to participate, feeling that I could earn my way in to being worthy by hard work and good feedback. This would be my trick with romantic relationships as well. And I'm sure you've already guessed, it didn't work out so well.

Oh yes, I did end up enjoying the creative collaborative process quite a bit, but it wasn't truly mine - so I had to constantly fight for the space to have a say, and frankly, I often pushed those who simply weren't ready to go where I knew they could go. Because I had the vision, because I knew how to get there. And in the end, though much good was done, it always ended badly. Because it wasn't really mine, and I knew that in my gut.

It's not that I haven't had my own creative projects all along, but my dedication to following my own creative drummer waxed and waned. I was not consistent. I kept thinking someone else's project was so much more legit than mine, so much more important, so in need of supporting first. I couldn't follow my own dreams first because I felt I hadn't been given a permission slip from God. That's my phrase for it that I've used for a long time.

But God doesn't send down a white photo copied form that you remember from school, he/she sends the yearning, the longing, the ideas, and when you pick up the pen and begin the journey support comes. Now I have thrown down the gauntlet to myself, the challenge - do your own thing, write your own book. Give it a total go, see what you can do.

And a fascinating thing happened, something that blew a big hole in the wall of my fear and resistance - two friends from my past have shown up and are showing support. One is my best friend from grammar school and she found me via the Internet about a year and a half ago, the other is my best friend from High School who found me via facebook about a month ago. Both have always supported the idea of me as a writer - and both love the genre I'm writing in - young adult fantasy (focused on girls).

Much of the book is plotted out, I'm now working on second drafts of the first six chapters (1 & 2 are done). It's moving, it's going, but it's still a challenging journey. There is a hole in the wall, but now I can see just how far I've got to go and it's daunting - like LOTR at the end, where it feels like Frodo and Sam will never get there. But they do. And now I just have to keep remembering that it will only happen one paragraph at a time, one page at a time, one chapter at a time and not get ahead of myself and full of worry that it won't be enough when I finally reach the end. The doing needs to be enough in itself.

I am one of those people who has always had a vivid dream life. No, not a vivid daydreaming life, I'm not really good at daydreams, most likely because my dreams at night take up all that kind of energy. They are vivid, colorful and dramatic. Sometimes I have dreams within dreams. Some are realistic and some sound completely crazy once I try to describe them to someone else. For years I secretly enjoyed my dreams but felt as if I was a bit of a freak for having so many...until I accepted that a) that's just the kind of creative intuitive sort I am and b) my dreams are my own personal emotional language telling me what's really going on with my psyche. Of course others had been telling me this for years, but you know how the intellect and the emotions run on two different tracks, so there you have it.

I also have several kinds of recurring dreams that remind me of issues that are challenging for me. When I change my behavior in one of thesereoccurring dreams I know I've made real progress in my waking emotional life.

One of the things I'm learning to do right now is speak up for myself in a constructive way. I've never been a total doormat, but I've lived much of my life trying to be a people pleaser, thinking that if I just worked hard enough on behalf of others I'd get an invitation to the right party, I'd be loved, accepted etc. But of course we all already have our very own special invitation to the party, it's up to us to decide what kind of party we want to attend. Love and acceptance shows up in amazing ways  when we learn to love and accept ourselves, as fluffy bunny as that sounds it's not at all easy, but it's true.

For years I dreaded dreaming of my High School boyfriend. They always signaled a sort of stress occurring in my life, something I wanted to run away from. He was pursuing me, wanting to get back together and I was frightened. No, he never abused me, but he cheated on my constantly and I would keep getting back together with him. At the time I had no idea that I was acting out my own parents rather torrid relationship. We were literally behaving as they behaved (and perhaps as his own parents were behaving, I'm not sure).

When I finally realized he didn't really represent himself so much in my dreams as an aspect of myself that I was dreaded I was able to look at what the dreams were telling me. He represented my fear of not being able to stand my own ground and speak up for myself. Over the last week I've dreamt of him again twice after years of not, and both times I told him, "no, no thank you, I'm not interested."

What is really interesting in last night's dream is that he didn't want to listen - not only that I didn't want to get back together but to why. It was a non-issue for him. My reasons didn't matter. And I realized this was a good warning to me to be really clear when I'm in situations with people where my happiness, my needs, my intentions (whether in a work, friendship, or romance) just can't be taken into account, where they just can't hear me because they are so full up with their own situations.

It was a good reminder that I can't always play ball with who I might want to, because I just don't matter in the way I need to.

And it was a good reminder to me that I can be this person at times too. I can listen but not hear. I can listen half heartedly and project what I think the person is saying rather than what they really are. I can run my own conversation in my head when I'm listening to them instead of listening to them full present. Sometimes we do this because we're bored, and sometimes we do this because we're afraid we won't have a clever enough response at the right moment. Whatever the case we're not really here.

All in all I was very heartened by this dream. I have had a terrific week, but the sort that makes my head hurt from getting wound up, so I'm doing my best to slow down this weekend and just be here now.

I had absolutely nothing to complain about yesterday (except some tiny grumbling about the heat), I slept well, and yet from the moment I woke up this morning I knew I was just sort of well, off. I was filled with a sort of physical and emotional dread that overcomes me at times, a sensation close to that of when you're coming down with the flu, but not quite so physical.

At first I sat down at the computer and tried to get rid of the feeling by rushing into work, by distracting myself (know that one?), and then I stopped and decided I would move more slowly, and mindfully if I could and try and be curious. As soon as I did that I remembered that I had had to take more pain medication yesterday because of an early meeting, and the heat, and that I was on deadline for an article that I was working on with a client that I wanted to be really good because it's our first sort of this type of adventure together which was making me a bit nervous.

So I decided to be a little more kind with myself, and even more kind to my body. I ate. I stretched. I slowed down and worked on easier projects first.

At times during the day the feeling would really rear its head, to the point that I had to get up and walk around. One time it felt so strong I checked my bank account to see if I'd made some kind of horrible adding error. Nope. Then I found the beautiful photo above at my favorite stock photo site (while doing research for another client) and just posting it on my website in honor of earth day made me feel better.  Staring at it made me feel more calm and serene.

My client and I went back and forth on the article. We found a groove we both liked and were able to finish the piece. My brother really liked his birthday gift today of a little website I put together for his band, and I was able to chat briefly with a dear friend about the novel I'm working on. The feeling of dread hasn't totally left me, but I know it'll pass. Whenever I remember that feelings are waves instead of constant states I'm able to ride the rough ones out with a bit more serenity (a bit), and to just bask a bit longer in the happy ones, remembering that this too shall pass.

I have been in bed for much of the week with a nasty gastro-intestinal kind of flu that just isn't any fun. And with it, when I wasn't sound asleep (which was much of the time), or in the bathroom, I've been in rather a funk. Not a horrible one, not sad, but out of sorts because I'm going through some transitions and I'm getting into some "brand new territory." Much of this is scenarios I've been praying for and preparing for and working towards for some time now, but that's the interesting thing about "new territory" - new and longed for just doesn't always feel fun. Sometimes it just feels different, scary, weird.

I am so very blessed to have two good friends who help ground and focus me when I feel I'm sort of treading water but not sure which way to turn. One I have only known just over a year now, and one I have known since childhood but just connected with again just over a year now. Interesting that two guardian angels would come into my life at the same time. Both help remind me of where I'm good and gently nudge me to be my best self. Both help me be brave and go for my heart's desire and I'm so very fortunate to have them in my life and to have spent time chatting with them today.

I'm up early, nervous, chewing on Pepto-Bismal, both excited about new projects that are either going well, or just starting yet worried over old projects I should probably just let go of. But it can be so hard. There is so much fear and reluctance to let go of something I've put so much work into, that I've made new friends with, that I'm very proud of - or at least certain aspects of. Yes it's a challenge.

On a purely happy note I can check another item off my list of resolutions for the New Year! I learned how to use my digital camera and upload photos. Above is a current "visual affirmation" list I'm creating for myself, an exercise to help me expand my emotional slice of pie. I am trying to let go of the idea that I must always be a workaholic and can instead enjoy greater domestic comfort and serenity. This is a big deal for me, it's just not something I've even been able to contemplate again until very recently, and to be honest, it's not an idea I've ever been that comfortable with. Work has always come first for me, even when (years ago) it was work I hated.

Thankfully now I have work I so love, but it's still easy to push oneself too hard in that direction and not realize how you're using up precious resources.

I want to reorganize and redecorate my apartment. I do want to. I want to change it up and sigh with happiness over the loveliness of it all when I open the door and see it all clean and beautiful. I do. But somehow the desire and the action are not matching up very quickly. I seem to have lost my talent to whip things in shape quickly.

It's not that I'm not making progress, I am, but slowly. It's as if the books and papers have a mind of their own and want to stay put. My stuff seems to have more dominion than I do and that's not good.

So onward, the new sheets are at least washed, now the bed must be changed...

I'm in the middle of reorganizing and cleaning up my studio, moving around furniture, dusting, and sorting through a myriad of piles of stuff that until recently I just didn't have the energy to deal with. So right now, of course, though I can see the floor more than before, it's an even bigger mess than previously.

But it's all good, I'm ready for something new. I'm open to physically experiencing more again, after living mostly in my head, and I've hit a place of flow (after spending six months feeling mentally good but physically lousy - amazing what a difference good sleep can make!) that is fascinating.

And of course I'm pondering love, and now not only love for friends and family (which has been so precious for me of late), but also romantic love too, or at least right now romantic "like" or "curiosity," that delicious, "gosh, maybe?" that rears its head so suddenly and surprises you while you were paying attention to something else.

Which has me contemplating my love list. I've tried to be formal about it. I've tried Martha Beck's recommendation of writing out 100 things (she's Oprah's life coach writer for "O" and one of my favorites), but it's something I have to do in fits and starts and things occur to me. Trust me, it's not easy to do if you step back from the physical surface attributes of an ideal someone who might thrill you (though of course I'm still pretty darn sure gazing at Jude Law can't be hard to do), and instead focus on how you'd like to feel in the presence of that special someone - whether you're in the middle of grocery shopping or in the middle of making love.

But I'm pondering it afresh this weekend, mulling it over and savoring it the possibilities.

“Independence - is loyalty to one's best self and principles, and this is often disloyalty to the general idols and fetishes” - Mark Twain

I remember I was in 8th grade, or maybe even High School, before the message actually sunk in that the 4th of July (in the United States anyway) wasn't the day the colonies won their independence from England, but rather the day they declared it.

I've been thinking a lot about that over the past few days, how we have to have the intention first that we want independence from something that's holding us down (financial worry, heartache, etc.), then we need to declare our intention (though perhaps only to ourselves), and then finally we can gain that independence if we have enough determination and focus and in many cases, sheer grit.

But we face a lot of monsters on such a journey, and the monsters within us can be just as powerful, or more powerful, than the ones we face on the outside world. I know this has certainly been the case for myself. I spent much of my life assuming I just didn't have the energy to go for my heart's desire in any sort of passionate way, that first I had to focus on what my parent's and the media and the world was telling me was important (having status in the business world, looking great, and things of that ilk).

And so I did. At 21 I became a very diligent workaholic in an uncreative industry I really disliked but I moved forward with as it allowed me to speak Italian every day (which I had gone to school for) and because my mom's boss got me the interview. I got the job, and desperate to have my parents proud of me, and desperate to feel legit (as I'm sure many young people feel, heck many of us feel) I hung in there and wracked up the years.

Choosing a different path, a more independent, creative one for me has been a long process. The first step I made was to keep writing. I have kept a journal very diligently for over 25 years. The second step I made was to marry a creative man because I simply didn't think I deserved, or could afford, just to be a creative person on my own. What I know now, which I didn't know then, is that if you earn your way into a relationship you'll never stop paying. Romantic relationships aren't earned, they just are, but at the time it was the only way I knew how to be, and his talent and my ideas seemed like a huge lifeboat of possibilities. And for many years they were.

It's easy to regret a marriage that went wrong, especially one that in hindsight you can see the cracks in the foundation of from the very beginning, but I've decided not to regret my marriage because we did the best we knew how to do at the time, and we created a company and pieces of art that I'm very proud of. Yes, I truly do wish I could have relaxed more then, and owned with some grace what we were making happen rather than being frantic and still wanting desperately to feel important and right in my choices. I couldn't see any shades of gray back then. There was constant tension between my ex-husband and myself over the fact that I was the one who recognized his talent and came up with the idea for his company (though while married it was supposedly "our" company, but that was a bone of contention as well) and supported and cajoled and challenged him to live up to what I knew in my gut he could do.

Now I'm learning to support and cajole and challenge myself to live up to the talent I feel I hold within. It's not easy to do, it's scary, it feels arrogant at times on a whole different level, but still the siren calls from within...do your own thing, declare your independence.

I remember years ago reading that there is very little difference in the way the body experiences fear and excitement. I've been spending time chewing on this of late, I'm feeling both actually - but excitement seems to be winning out. I'm seeing hearts everywhere again (including in my chocolate chip ice-cream the other night, that was pretty cool). One would think I'm waiting for him to call right now, but there is no particular him at the moment (though I know some lovely men), just life unfolding in fascinating ways.

Some of it is very scary because I'm facing an old old pattern and doing my best to look at the current manifestation of it with curiosity and not with blame. I'm realizing the more I can be still and allow myself to get clear on how I want to feel in a certain situation vs. the obvious emotion that automatically comes up, the more space I have to experience something new. Things shift, sometimes in oh so subtle ways, sometimes dramatically. Whatever is going on it's certainly invigorating. I now have the energy and focus to clean and organize in my apartment in ways I haven't been able to in months!

And I'm very excited that I've finally got the beta version of DatingLikeGrownUps.com up and am expanding it slowly. Wow, I've been planning it for years so it's nice to have it finally moving forward.