I am a positive person. A glass half-full kind of girl. I see life through rose-coloured glasses. I try hard not to get stuff get to me. Most of the time, I succeed. Some days, I don’t. It doesn’t happen often. But it does happen.
My ex-husband used to say that I “live in the bubble of the pink fart” (a direct translation of a Spanish expression). It used to upset me. I thought it was a bad thing. But now … I wholeheartedly agree. I OWN it. I am proud to live that way. It suits me, my way, my style.
But every so often, I wake up in a funk. And it throws me for a loop. It disrupts my day, and I feel off-kilter. It happened this Friday. I woke up with a feeling of discouragement, despair. I sat in my studio to work on some research to prepare some videos and I thought to myself: “What’s the point? Why am I doing this? Does anybody care? Maybe I should just give up.” That’s not me. That’s my other self. The little voice sitting on my left shoulder blabbing and making me doubt myself. What I’m doing. While the little voice sitting on my right shoulder is telling me to stay calm, stop listening, stop doubting, keep going. Keep showing up.
So what did I do? I had a lovely chat with a friend. We talked about it. I realized, not for the first time, that voicing my doubts, negative feelings and emotions works to get them out there into the world, where they can fly away and dissipate. All I need is a willing ear to listen sympathetically. Lacking that, I sometimes sit in my studio and talk out loud. Getting the words out helps put them into perspective. And yes, sometimes it means that I have to tweak things and make changes, but small changes, nothing drastic. When I hang up the phone, I felt better. This Friday, it meant taking some time off. I went downstairs, put the kettle on, and grabbed a magazine. I lost myself in the images. And my brain quieted down – the little voice on the left retreated and went silent. All of a sudden, the world righted itself and I felt centred once more. I turned the TV on, made dinner, watched a show and then went to bed ready for a new day.
On Saturday, my daughter came for a visit and I helped her make a present for a friend: we worked on some fiddly felt stuffed figurines that she made into a wall-hanging. That worked also as a break from my normal routine. I had a fun time listening to music, chatting with her and sewing fiddly stuff. And although it is not something that either of us wants to do again any time soon, we had fun, finished the project, and spent hours conversing and relaxing.
Today, I’m ready to start the week with renewed energy. And realized that taking a break from making is necessary. We are always creating even when to some outsider looking in, nothing is going on. We can’t stop the wheels from turning. We can’t stop thinking.
Ideas are always there, percolating. I know that for me that’s true. I can’t stop it. I’m always “thinking”. Images constantly forming. It’s necessary to stop stressing and worrying. The work we do needs space to grow and flourish. Maybe for some of that work now is not the time. But if we trust our own process, we’ll know when the time has come.
My work is my life. I don’t have a 9-5 Monday to Friday job anymore. I work when inspiration strikes. I do admin work when I have to and the rest of the time, I’m looking for ways to improve classes, create new ones, share information, social media, workshops, contracts, ideas coming to fruition, learning new things, making new work … it never stops.
Today, I am grateful to live in a pink bubble. Grateful for friends who let me natter away so I can later disconnect for a while, recharge and recentre. Some days, I can’t believe that this is the wonderful life I get to live!
Until I write again, I wish you some hours of recharging and re-centering so you can later reconnect with yourself and keep creating.
Thanks for reading,
PS: Don’t forget to check out the February workshops and register for one or a few! I’ll see you in class.