One of the things I loved about doing Morning Pages, during the eight or nine years that I did them, was their ability to clear my mind of so much of the stuff I carried around with me – not big stuff, no, not really. But loads of little things, things that I thought interesting – actually, things that I just thought.

It’s actually the kind of stuff one might Twitter. Only, if the object is to clear my mind so I can embrace the day ahead of me, I’d be writing up lots of tweets before I reached my objective.

And anyway, Twitter and tweets always feel so ephemeral to me – I write them and then I forget about them. The things I’m thinking about aren’t necessarily things I actually want to forget! I quite like the feeling of putting all these sometimes wonderful, sometimes mundane thoughts of mine into a little random list, one I can go back to occasionally if I want to. Choice is a fabulous thing, no?

• My orchid has five gorgeous big buds and one teeny tiny bud on it – so exciting. It didn’t bloom last year, but then I read an article on a blog somewhere about taking care of orchids, and applied what I learned (cut the stem on which the plant had blooms, that was about it) and voila! eight months later the plant is heavy with buds!
• I didn’t think my thoughts would be quite so long, quite so many sentences. Let’s see what else there’s rambling in my mind.
• It’s a gray day and I love it. It reminds me of Vancouver, that grayness. Dusk has always been a magical time for me.
• Why is it so difficult for me to stay committed to any one particular project? I know, without a doubt, that that kind of commitment can yield spectacular results. And yet …
• I am starting to fall in love with Facebook.
• When I do take the time to be still, even if it isn’t for very long, my whole day changes, for the better.
• So why is it so hard to find that time to be still?
• When I have work, I’m online a lot more. It’s because I get bored at the computer, and surfing around is so much more fun than working.
• I really want to learn how to bring that stillness with me as I go about my everyday life.
• It’s funny, but my closest friends are either purely online friends, or they live so far away that online is the only way to stay in touch. That part of my life is truly grounded in cyberspace.
• I have star lights hanging over my window. Why don’t I ever turn them on?

I feel better already! Clear of mind and loving the moment. I did practice stillness this morning, and now I intend to keep that feeling with me as I move through my day. I’ve got a whole lot of work in front of me, but I’m still going to go wherever my intuition points the way.

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.

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.

1. Field Center
2. My darling FC group.
3. My darling affiliate goddesses.
4. My kids and how they’re growing and learning
5. My husband the Sensei Chef (ssshhh … don’t tell him I used that term. He really really really doesn’t like it. But it’s true)
6. Eating so many lovely, delicious dishes.
7. Finding my way back to writing.
8. Finding my art again.
9. Finding a contractor and having the renovations start!
10. All the beautiful little glorious moments that make up my days – things like sipping coffee while nestled in the comfy armchair, sunlight splashing over me; hugs from Dylan; talking with Ward into the wee hours of the night; having wonderful, amazing conversations with Hayley and Sean; loving the colour of my manicure, of all things; emails from friends; and many, many more beautiful glorious little moments.

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.

1. The brilliance of the chance for change.

2. The power of this breath of hope.

3. The eloquence of a new day, birth to a new era.

Life truly is just so incredible, isn’t it?

Decluttering … or Freeing Up Energy

Yesterday I spent most of the afternoon cleaning my office. I work from home, and it was getting seriously painful looking at the stacks and stacks of books, papers and courier packages sitting on every available surface, plus portions of the floor. I somehow found room in my office bookshelves for the latest batches of books that I’ve bought recently. I also created a To Be Read corner, which helped a lot!

I stumbled on five filled notebooks – my Morning Pages from quite a few years back. It’s been a couple of years now since I’ve been doing Morning Pages, but back when I did them, I was very good about not reading them over. These scribblings definitely aren’t meant to be read over! So I had a good time tearing out all the pages, and then shredding them, although only half the pages are shredded – I burnt out the shredder! It’s fine today, and I’ll probably resume my shredding later on today.

So now I’m sitting here, at my clean desk, feeling very uncluttered. It’s remarkable how refreshing decluttering can be.

Immediately after I did my clean-up, I felt rejuvenated, as if I’d freed up some energy that had been trapped (as I’m sure it was). And I was able to write the final update on our Thanksgiving dinner at our food blog (considering our Thanksgiving here in Canada was last weekend, I definitely procrastinated on this one!): Our Bon Appetit 2008 Thanksgiving Dinner.

In addition to freeing up energy, it also felt like I’d freed up time, as well. I was able to start reading Kelly Rae’s Taking Flight, which I’ve had for a couple of weeks now. I’m not destined to really get into this book just yet, though: I put it down somewhere last night just before putting Dylan to bed, and I can’t find it anywhere now!

The rest of the evening was spent watching Die Hard (the first one) with Ward and my son Sean. Sean’s doing his individual study unit on Die Hard for his Film Studies class (all I can say is, I definitely would have enjoyed Film Studies in high school, if it had been offered!). Ward threw together some lovely appetizers for the movie, including a Tilapia Po’Boy that was just amazing, and some seared rare beef slices.

All in all, yesterday was a Very Good Day.

The Big Draw

Looking back on this week, I see that I’m behind on a few things – mainly: blogging here daily, and the Big Draw. Dylan, of course, has been far more diligent than I have been when it comes to drawing daily. He always seems to have his markers out and about, and even with days filled with games, computer time, reading, trains, playing, jumping in the leaves, eating his favorite foods, library time, clay time – he still has time to draw. He truly is an artist.

Car and Driver. Crayola markers.

Valentine Heart for Mommy. Crayola markers.

Boat. Crayola markers.

Mail. Crayola marker.

On Inspiration

I’ve been discovering something about myself (self-discoveries are always so wonderful, and it’s just amazing how there’s always more and more to discover, no matter how old you are).

Inspiration ebbs and flows for me. I recently was talking with some dear friends about this, and bringing a great deal of self-judgment into this discovery. They each nudged me back into alignment, an acceptance of all of who I am. So today, I’m at peace with the ebb and flow of inspiration in my life, and can now truly see that the down time of withdrawal is something as precious as the passionate flow of inspiration on fire.

Which, by the way, is one reason why my blogging here ebbs and flows, too!

Writing

I’ve been in prep mode for NaNoWriMo, which is coming up very soon. Since I signed up, I’ve decided on the idea that I’ll be turning into a novel. This was actually looking like quite a tough decision, as I have several gems on hand, some of which I’ve carried with me and developed for years. But interestingly enough, choosing the idea was easy. I discovered there was one idea I have, for a mainstream mystery, that just kept nagging at me. Basically, it was jumping up and down saying “pick me! pick me!”. It doesn’t get much easier than that!

So this past week, I’ve been playing around with my characters. I’ve created various mindmaps for my major characters, and I’m currently reading James Frey’s How to Write a Damn Good Mystery, which is both funny and has some good tips. I will likely begin writing my character profiles this week, and by November 1 I should be good to go for NaNoWriMo.

Bliss

This coming week, my intention is to live blissfully, in the midst of the seeming chaos of life, family and deadlines.

Which unfortunately left me very little time for other things, like drawing! So The Big Draw will be on hold until tomorrow. (Dylan, on the other hand, did his drawings both yesterday and today!)

Both dinners were a lot of fun; we took a ton of pictures so I’ll be sorting through those. Sitting down today, both Ward and I talked about how much we have in our lives to appreciate, how blessed we are.

And most of all, today I’ve been thinking about a quote that my friend Bethie sent me:

“… you do live in an environment of absolute grace. And the more you practice thoughts of that and watch for evidence of that and speak it, you beat the drum of it whenever you see it.”

- Abraham-Hicks

And that’s my intention – Absolute Grace. And as I sit here reflecting on all that’s good in my life, and my gratitude and appreciation of all of it, it does indeed feel like I’m surrounded by absolute grace.

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”.