Encouragement

I believe that in every moment, whether or not I’m aware of it, I am always choosing my identity, and my world is always a reflection of this choice. And when I find myself mired in doubt or floundering in worry, what works best for me is to remember that, as the Field Center puts it, there is no time off from my consciousness. These reactions come about because I’ve lost sight of who I want to be; I am out of alignment with the me that I truly am. And so it’s a matter of coming back into alignment.

Easy to say, but sometimes very challenging to do! So here’s what I turn to when I find myself seeking re-alignment:

Imagination. I make the time and take the moment to embrace my imagination, and allow myself to feel everything I feel as the identity I’m choosing. This goes beyond mere visualization; I never know what might come to me, but I open myself up to the vision. I need to have the willingness to do this, but when I do, it can be magical.

Friends. I’m fortunate to have two different groups of very special women friends who are always there for me, who listen without judgment and offer tremendous support for the me that I want to be. They inspire me with their lives, and who they are, and their words of wisdom and support often lift me right out of doubt into the magic of flow.

Play. This can be writing, reading, taking out some of my art supplies and just having fun with everything. It can be watching a movie, listening to music, plotting out a story. It can mean taking a walk, going shopping, going online in search of inspiration. And the key is to have fun; I never get into that wonderful feeling of play if I haven’t first let go of the idea of results. Often it’s that feeling of “where will this lead me?” that leads me out of the dreariness of fear, doubt and worry.

Sleep. My greatest challenges seem to arise when I’m tired, exhausted, fatigued – I feel like I can’t access the energy to do anything, to be anything, to feel anything. Problems appear where there were none before, and trite things magnify, gain in size and loom over me, filling me with emotions I don’t want. And when that happens, sleep is the revitalizing ingredient. My body is telling me to take it easy, to rest, and when I honour this intuition, and rest, the energy inevitably comes back.

These are the things I reach for most often when I find myself out of alignment with who I want to be. They work – often it’s just a matter of remembering that each of these things are there to help me out.

One Brave Step

This week, I intend to (finally!) start prewriting with collage – it’s something I wrote about a few weeks ago, and I have this very strong feeling that it’s something I’m meant to be doing, that it will open up my intuition in a way I’ve been desiring for a long time. I felt so motivated and excited when I discovered this – and then found myself stuck in a week filled with deadlines.

The deadlines, I know, were simply a reflection of the fear I was feeling, that smaller me that I was being, the one who was unable to reach out and embrace the creativity that leads to the fulfillment of my dreams.

But I have the supplies. I have the time. And I have the encouragement of being part of this group of creative women bloggers, and truly, as I visit each one of you, I feel your energy and it is such an amazing, wonderful feeling. So this week, let this be my one brave step – plunging into the joy of prewriting with collage.

On Honouring My Inspirations

I didn’t end up writing a post last week for Chapter 2’s look at honouring our inspirations – I thought about it a lot, though, and I was able to get around to reading a few of the groups’ posts. So I wanted to finish up this post with my thoughts on what inspires me.

For a long time, I stifled my femininity. I found myself in a world where being a woman wasn’t much admired, and I fought for survival by pushing away all the parts of me that were feminine. And it isn’t such a surprise for me to look back and see that my creativity faded during this period of my life.

Eleven years ago, I left that life, and since then I’ve been on a journey of rediscovery. Slowly, I began to become open to the feminine within me, and I’m happy to say that I have reclaimed that part of me now. It’s been an interesting journey, especially since it wasn’t something I clearly understood at the time.

And so today, I honour the beauty and the inspiration of the feminine.

You see, two days ago, I literally looked up (at my monitor, that is, which was displaying my Basecamp calendar, where I keep track of my deadlines) and realized I was going to be knee deep in work for the next five to six days.

Not good. How had I let the time slip by me like that?

And that’s when I started thinking about my beliefs about time.

The Field Center teaches us that time is just a construct of reality. It is what we believe it to be. Both past and future are as flexible and malleable as the present.

It is in the present that our power resides. There is, after all, only the now.

I began thinking about what I believed about time. And when I fished each belief out and took a good look at it, I knew they were beliefs I definitely did not want to hang onto.

I could see them glistening in front of me. There is never enough time. Time is too precious to waste. Time slips away so quickly. If I had the time, I would be able to _________ .

And so of course, my days are generally crazy-busy. I never seem to have enough time. The days pass by in the blink of an eye, and before I know it, I’m deep in the middle of the next season, wondering, where did the time go? And when I have a moment of time, I agonize over how I should spend it. Time was too precious to waste.

I knew, after all, that if I only had the time, I would be able to accomplish so much more.

An interesting thing happened while I was thinking about everything that I believed about time. Suddenly, I began remember how I felt about time when I was a child; back then, time stretched out, gleaming, in front of me, filled with so much possibility and potential.

Every day when I got home from school, I had time to read, to write, to watch TV, to play.

On Fridays,an entire weekend stretched out in front of me! What bliss!

Saturday afternoons we’d all head over to the library for books and then dinner, maybe at Mr. Mike’s Steakhouse, which I loved, maybe just a hotdog, which I was okay with, as long as I could get a pizza dog. Saturday morning and Saturday evening, however, were all mine. The mornings would be spent in anticipation of the library, and the new books I’d be getting; the evenings would be devoted to reading, dreaming and writing.

Sunday mornings we’d have dim sum with my father’s friends and their families, all seated at one large table. I’d be allowed to take a book with me, and while the other kids fooled around, I’d read while carts filled with freshly steamed shrimp dumplings, glistening white folds of rice noodles and savory and garlicky ribs glided by our table.

The rest of Sunday was all mine. I usually spent it dreaming, reading, writing.

And then there was the thrill of the summer holidays. An entire two months of time, to do with as I wished.

Two days ago, those feelings about time flowed back to me; I could feel the joy and the glee that I felt about time. I could feel how time is always so abundant.

When did my beliefs change? The changes were infinitesimal when I was in high school; I barely noticed. In university, it felt like I had more time than in high school; my days were far less structured, and I could study when I wanted to, as long as the studying got done before tests and exams. I could work on assignments when I wanted to, as long as the work got done by the due date.

Time began changing when I started working full-time. My commute was long, and suddenly, time was being wasted. My days were not my own; I had to work to the rhythm of someone else’s schedule. And when I had a baby, time became even more compressed. It wasn’t simply time anymore. It was time pressure. Very little time, so much to do.

Does becoming an adult mean you have to change your beliefs about time? I decided, no, it didn’t. I only changed my beliefs because that’s what everyone else did. I’d heard so much about the time dilemma. It had to be true. And so it was.

So two days ago, I decided to play a little experiment. I was facing five deadlines in six days; one deadline is actually an equivalent amount of work to two projects, so it was more like six deadlines in six days. Certainly not a good situation, “time-wise”, based on what I believed about time.

So I decided to choose to believe differently. That first morning, rather than rushing to my computer to start working, I sat in the living room with my cup of coffee, and called up those long-ago feelings about time that I had as a child. I remembered the thrill of having so much time, the bliss of an abundance of time.

I let myself rest in those feelings. Time IS abundant. I do have the time to get things done. I have the time to play. Time passes slowly and deliciously.

The results?

Well, I haven’t done anything creative the past two days, but my deadlines are being met, easily and effortlessly. I am half an hour away from finishing up the one deadline that’s equivalent to two assignments.

Much of my work is done on the computer. It requires a certain amount of thinking. A while ago, I experimented with listening to audiobooks while I was working. Back then, it didn’t work. I couldn’t do the two things at once. Invariably, I’d end up typing the words I heard, rather than what I was reading and thinking.

Yesterday, I discovered that this has changed. I’m able to listen to non-fiction audiobooks while I work. I started with the Field Center course, moved onto this wonderful lecture on consciousness and creativity by David Lynch, then finished up my night with Bruce Lipton’s lecture on the New Biology (if you’ve never watched this video I highly recommend it – here is part 1 at Google Video and here is part 2). When I start work today, I’m going to be listening to Brian Greene’s The Elegant Universe. I don’t know yet if I can listen to fiction and work at the same time, but for now, I’m getting to lots of non-fiction that I hadn’t had the time to get to before.

I’m getting my work done, and doing something else that’s enjoyable at the same time. If you’d asked me last week if I could do this, I would have said, sadly, “Not a chance, unfortunately”. Today, it feels like time has doubled for me. I’m getting my work done, and I’m listening to a book that I’ve been meaning to get to for a long time.

And I even have the time to write this post! Update: Thanks for all your wonderful comments. I finished my last deadline a day ahead of schedule! And now the whole rest of the week stretches out in front of me, filled with lots and lots of time!

What are your beliefs about time? What would you do with your time if you discovered that time was an abundant and delicious resource?

This week we are discussing where we all are in our journeys to our creative selves.

I have always been creative. As a child, I was highly imaginative; I read a lot, and spent much of my time dreaming up stories and making up characters. As soon as I learned to write, I began writing down my stories. When I was about seven, I created an entire series of books about Candyland that I wrote and illustrated.

When I look back on my childhood, the one thing that strikes me is that I was so clearly a writer. Writing was something that I did, all the time. It was my priority. It was my play. If I wasn’t reading, I was writing. If I wasn’t writing, I was reading. Books and words played a huge part in my life.

When I became a teenager, I actually preferred staying home to write rather than going out with friends. My 13th birthday stands out for me because my parents bought me this extremely old, second-hand (18th-hand, more like it) Underwood typewriter – to this day, I love the sound of typewriter keys hitting the paper and am always searching for something that imitates that sound on my keyboard.

Most of the money I came across after that went towards buying paper. I would buy reams and reams of inexpensive newsprint, and every time I came home with a new stash of paper, I’d feel like I was carrying a treasure trove. If you’ve ever read the Emily of New Moon stories by LM Montgomery, you’ll know what I mean. While my old Mint and Candyland books were lost in the midst of all the moving around I did as a child, I still have a box of stories and poems written during my teen years.

In my last year of high school, I won a number of national fiction and essay writing awards aimed at teen writers. I was poised to continue on my journey as a writer. But then, life intervened. My mom and stepfather moved across the country (only to end up getting a divorce), I moved in with my then-boyfriend and started university – and suddenly, I was a grown-up. And a grown-up has to focus on making money.

I continued to write, mostly short stories which I sent out to various short story magazines. And then, at the point when I began receiving personal rejection letters (one memorable one from Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine: “Almost, but not quite. Try us again.”) … something happened. Something in me gave up. It was too hard to make a living as a writer. I was an adult now. I needed to do something that would bring in an adequate amount of income.

So I went to law school. I ended up getting married, having a baby, passing the Bar: suddenly, I was a practicing lawyer. A practicing lawyer with a little one, and another baby on the way.

It was a hectic time, and somewhere during that period, I stopped writing fiction. Time was at a premium, and there was no support for my writing, in either my professional life or my personal life. At one point, I let my then-husband read one of my short stories. It was a creepy little horror story that had a humorous ending; he thought I was trying to be “too smart”. That hit me hard, much harder than I let myself admit at the time.

That period of my life was a dark time in terms of my creativity. And it wasn’t until my divorce a few years later that I was able to find my creative self again. Even then, it started slowly.

I began my journey back to my creative self by getting to know my inner self. I started with a gratitude journal that brought light and hope into my life. And then I began writing morning pages, and for six years, I faithfully wrote three long-hand pages every single morning before doing anything else. I discovered a kind of magic in those pages; whenever I expressed a desire in these morning pages notebooks, more likely than not, the desire would be fulfilled, sometimes as quickly as that very same day. Cheques arrived in the mail, jobs showed up (by then I had my own business), synchronicities abounded.

Then, about six years ago, an astounding thing happened. It still amazes me to this day. I realized how much I longed to get that love of the process of creativity back, all those magic moments when I was a child and a teenager when I lost myself in the writing of my stories. I remembered how time seemed to stand still, and the joy that flowed through me as I wrote. I wanted that back. I wanted for my writing to be all about process, and not about the results (as in, making money).

My desire was granted, but not the way I had envisioned: one day, I picked up a pencil, and I drew a picture of my kids playing a video game. I had always thought I couldn’t draw, that I wasn’t artistic except with words. I can remember sitting outside my house when I was eleven or twelve, staring at a tree and trying hard to draw it. I couldn’t even draw a straight line – yet there I was, drawing my kids, and having a great time doing it.

For the next few years, I explored art-making, and discovered that what I loved most of all was creating portraits using charcoal. My skills improved slowly but most importantly, I had re-discovered the thrill of process.

Then life intervened again: I had a baby with my second husband. Dylan was a miracle baby, and my life took yet another turn. There was no time for art, no time for writing. I was busy, juggling my home-based business and a new baby.

When Dylan was two, tragedy struck. My baby sister, Joy, died at the age of 32. But in my grief, I realized the gift she had given me: physically she wasn’t here, but I knew she wasn’t gone. I knew this with a conviction I never had access to before. And from there, I began a spiritual journey that has changed my life in incredible ways. Shortly after, I met a group of amazing women online, all conscious creators, and I haven’t looked back since.

My writing has returned to me. During the times when I wasn’t writing, I had continued to get story ideas, lots of them. They’ve all stayed with me, and these days, I feel like I have another treasure trove in front me. Deciding which ones to work on is the most challenging thing. But the most important thing of all is that I’m starting to BE a writer again. I am deliberately making this choice, choosing this identity, resting in this identity fully. And the magic is happening, once again.

Discovered on Contemplate This.)

Instead, I’ve been glued to my computer monitor, surfing around and feeling rather fulfilled because I’ve been finding so many wonderful things. Inspiration is truly all around – and when I’m open to finding it, it comes in droves.

Just now, this quote caught my eye:

“Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”

It’s been a long time since I last heard this, or similar words. Tonight, they feel just right for this special, tender space in which I find myself – motivating, inspiring and so true.

It’s about time I shoot for the moon. And even if I miss, I’ll land among the stars.

I didn’t even manage to pop in to say, Happy Holidays, and here’s to a wonderful new year!

(So I’m saying it now, a little belated.)

We welcomed in the New Year at Disney World in Orlando, Florida – it was a great trip, but being one of those excursion-oriented trips (theme park, theme park, and then more theme park) when we arrived back home, I felt in need of a vacation (I assume you’ve all been there, done that).

While we were away, I actually spent time pondering over what I would be doing with BelleEnchanted in 2009 – yes, that’s one of the many ways my mind likes to occupy me when I’m away on holiday. A few things occurred to me:

1. I am just not cut out for the whole journaling live online daily thing. I occasionally get into a nice blogging rhythm but I confess, nearly anything can distract me and steer me off course. And I mean, anything. Like a good book. Or a new blog idea (I don’t even want to go there. I’ll just say it happens. And happens.) Or a good dinner (and we have quite a few of those around here). Or deadlines (we have lots of those around here, too).
2. But when I fall out of blogging here, eventually I think about something I really really want to post about, and I find myself back here again. Because frankly, blogging here is fun. When I’m not distracted, that is.
3. And even though I just don’t have the disposition to blog consistently, I LOVE the thought of having done so. (It’s kind of like me and my writing, but let’s not go there, either, okay?)

These random thoughts lead me to something else: I’d like this blog to be about authenticity, inspiration and creativity. At the same time, I’d love for it to eventually resemble (somewhat) a journal (of sorts) – you know, a piece of me and my life for my kids and grandkids (if I have any) to enjoy (or not) at some vague future date (very future date, let’s hope).

All of which, I know, has nothing to do with the title of this post – yes, I’m back from Disney! And in subsequent posts, I will be putting together a little journal of our days, mainly for me and Ward, and for the kids. With pictures. Because yesterday I spent an hour uploading over 700 pictures from my digital camera to my computer. All of which I need to sort through.

But first, I felt like writing something here. And here it is.

Happy new year, everyone! Here’s to a great and fabulous 2009!

Here’s a serious aside that totally takes away from what I’m going to write about in this post but it’s buzzing in my head so if I don’t get it out, it’s going to buzz around more and throw a wrench into the whole post-writing works: I can’t help wondering, why is it I don’t GET NaPloBloMo as an “url acronym”. I mean, I can never remember it the way I remember NaNoWriMo. I always want to say, “NaBloMo … um something”. The only reason why I get it right is because I check out my own links first, each and every time. Sheesh. You’d think I’d know it by now.

Okay, now that I have that out of my system, back to Staying in Love with Life. What I really wanted to say is that I’m having one of those gloriously beautiful moments when I realize how wonderful this life I’ve created is.

I love moments like this, because the bliss factor is just brilliant. I also love that I’m having this moment, when just four hours ago I was tackling a deadline for an assignment that I really really didn’t like. I was emailing friends and telling my family, look, next time something like this comes up, please, please, please REMIND me how much I hated it the last time, so I won’t take it on again.

Yet still, now that it’s over and done with, I am touching that bliss. There’s a consistency to the practice of Being who you choose to be, and this, I think, is what happens when you do practice this Being consistently, as consistently as possible. I’ve been doing that, or being aware of wanting to do that (two different things but still close enough in some ways, I think).

Dylan is all better now, by the way. He insisted I take this picture of him “doing ballet”:

Yes, that’s my kid. He loves trains, cars and trucks, princesses, dragons, playing the Wii, jumping on the trampoline, going to IKEA just to have their mac n cheese, ballet, his Trainz game on the computer, Thomas the Tank Engine, chess, drawing, singing and giving lots of hugs and kisses. We’ve been trying to find a ballet or dance class that he can take that isn’t all girls. I figure one will show up when the timing is right.

And right now, it feels so easy staying in love with life.

Two weeks ago, I went beyond my normal desires and decided on the kind of life I want to live: a magical, spontaneous life, filled to the brim with synchronicity and gorgeous surprises. In forming this intention, I began the process of letting go of a lot of old beliefs about who I am, beliefs which served me well way back when, but which are no longer in alignment with who I’m choosing to be.

This morning, as I sit here at my computer looking out the window, I am filled with such gratitude. As I open myself to the spontaneous life, my life has been unfolding in such a fluid and organic way. Each day comes with such beautiful surprises – in a Field training analogy, I’ve opened that window, and people walking by are throwing those roses to me.

I’ve fallen back into a fully creative life, one which I had let go of, for reasons I can’t fully remember: I vaguely recall feeling busy, the harried busy-ness of a new mother. And then life changed, shifted, and I began to find time, time to explore my inner life, to come to know my inner self and fall in love with her all over again. And now, the missing piece has come back to me – my creativity, a creativity that’s beyond my writing, and in going beyond my writing, it’s inspiring my writing to depths I have never before felt.

This gorgeous world of art and creativity, helped in no small part by my decision to blog here as authentically as I can … this gorgeous world inspires me on a daily basis, in ways I had never dreamed of before. And my outer world has been shifting, fluidly and gently, to come into alignment with who I am inside.

This morning, my heart spills over with gratitude for this spontaneous life.

This evening’s been one of those evenings where I’m finding grace everywhere. It’s funny how one doesn’t necessarily even get a hint of all of this wonder that’s to come. But grace did come, from all around me:

1. The beauty of the rain, drizzling down unusually, reminding me of Vancouver. Not at all like Toronto’s normal version of rain, which can really only be described as “downpour”.

2. The leaves caught beneath my windshield wipers, gloriously gorgeous and vibrant. I read somewhere that trees don’t have to give us the breathtaking colors of fall, that it takes a lot of their energy to present their dazzling show of reds and oranges – and they get nothing from it. They don’t need to do it. They could just cut off the chlorophyll and turn those green leaves brown. But they don’t, and instead choose to give us such beauty during this spectacular season.

Thank you, trees.

3. The candles nestled in the glass vases at the yoga studio. It made a lovely experience even more beautiful.

4. The sweetness and flow of my yoga instructor’s voice. We went into our poses while outside day turned into night.

5. The evening sky, not yet fully dark, gently colored a gorgeous orange by the street lights. I’d never noticed before that our street lights give off this beautiful orange-red color.

6. The feel of the drizzling rain on my face.

7. Coming home to laughter, Thomas train tracks laid out in the living room, Jamie Oliver’s cod and potato stew being prepared.

Tonight was a wonderful reminder to me that grace is everywhere. And I know I named this post “Finding Grace”, but grace is always here. What I really mean is, “opening my eyes to grace”.

This week, I have come full circle. Unexpectedly, but then again, I started off the week with the decision that I am open to the magical, to those sparks of spontaneity and synchronicity, to the beauty of uncertainty. And now, here I am. I find myself settled in a place that I had only touched on briefly before. Paths I had previously taken are now all open before me, beautifully merged into one.

Art.

Writing.

Life.

Love.

Being.

It is the most incredible feeling. And making things even more gorgeous, I came across Karen’s post on her epiphany:

I need to just let the faces happen. I don’t have to be in charge.

I don’t have to be in charge.

Say it to yourself. “I don’t have to be in charge.”

Wow. That’s a biggie. All I have to do is pay attention to opening up to something bigger than myself.

As in art, so in life. If I needed a reminder, there it is. It’s Dreamwalking at its best.

And so I go to bed tonight, so inspired. I’m feeling this connection that’s just glorious – to my husband, who’s away at a seminar in New York, to my kids, each of them sleeping peacefully in their bed, and most of all, to the me I’m choosing to be. All of me: art, writing, life, love, being.