I need to find my joy. There’s so much that I have and spread out to the world. But I need to find mine for me. Gosh, that sounds so self centered. Me me me- Marsha Marsha Marsha.
but it’s true. Somewhere this year I have gotten scared. And it has made me stumble or walk a bit awkwardly, hesitatingly. I am starting to repeat my pattern about being worried of not doing what people think I should be doing. Or if disappointing or of failing that I become unable to get what I need to get done done. Or more so accept that to do what I want right now does take time. And as long as I’m careful to not procrastinate deadlines in an unhealthy or unproductive manner that it is ok.
i guess some of this also has to do with being so afraid to overshare in this blog. As more people get to know my name or rather THE WORK I HAVE BEEN DILIGENTLY DOING IS BEGINNING TO PAY OFF and my web presence is becoming stronger that these words. That me being honest will shut doors.
writing this begins to feel like I’m writing an MC Escher drawing— looping repeatedly around to the exact same place. KINDA like a Möbius strip... Hahahaha! Oh lord, I am ridiculous.
things have been changin in my studio in my life. I have been a part of that change but not been the cause of it. I am unsure of how to respond to much of what is occurring as I am not “in trouble.” Before I got sober, at the end, I was often the problem. And as a sober lady, working the steps and trying to daily do the next right thing and have faith in thy(higher power/god) will not my will i have not been the problem. (Not that I’ve been perfect as I haven’t, but my hat I haven’t caused any major snafus). So there’s a part of me with all that is changing for someone to pull grab me and yell “psych” and pull the carpet out from under me.
and with all of this going on in my head I have lost my joy for me. I’m dreading going to Minnesota. There I’ve said it. I am letting my fear of facing demons restrict me. I am in an awesome show and need to get in the mood to razzle fucking dazzle. To make peace with my demons there. To make in person amends when possible. To look at this as life presenting me a fabulous time to keep sowing my good seeds. And not a horrific chore like cleaning my room or going to the dentist.
As all of this has been going on my anxiety has been jumpier. I have extra meds I can take if I need to but really prefer not to. So I have ended up working a lot more on focused breathing. And it does seem to be helping.
So right now I will find my joy in doing the next right thing. And having family and friends who care and who I care for.
Tomorrow I take a test for teacher certification. And Tuesday I take another. I have made amends to my parents and will try to make with my brother later this week. I also emailed a college professor I owe amends to to see if we can meet while I’m in Minnesota. I will keep working to do the right thing.
and leave on this note- my dear blog friends. This has been a really good venting blog for me. A lot of things I have been bottling up because I cannot share them. But the results- what is happening in me I can. I am stunned and ecstatic at what is happening in my life right now. In many ways I’m over the moon and don’t know if I’m continuing up into the heavens or back down onto earth. Self centered pity has been a downfall of mine. And is something I am actively trying to work against. My current concerns are real, but first world concerns.
L'anneau de moebius (French)
Le chemin sur lequel je cours
Ne sera pas le même quand je ferais demi-tour
J'ai beau le suivre tout droit
Il me ramène à un autre endroit
Je tourne en trond mais le ciel change
Hier j'étais enfant
Je suis un homme maintenant
Le monde est une drôle de chose
Et la rose est parmi les roses
Ne ressemble pas à une autre rose.
Mobius strip (English)
The track I'm running on
Won't be the same when I turn back
It's useless to follow it straight
I'll return to another place
I circle around but the sky changes
Yesterday I was a child
I'm a man now
The world's a strange thing
And the rose among the roses
Doesn't resemble another rose.
poem by Robert Desnos