Moving while Staying in Place

I’m the first to admit, these past five months created many new challenges, difficulties, sorrows and fears. As an artist, I saw my opportunities fall like bricks one by one and the bricks keep falling. As a mother, I worried for my sons, daughter and grandchildren’s health and safety. As a friend, I lost connections when I needed them most. 

There were many times, I felt my heart and soul cringe at the hard shell building around my city and country. Seeing violence and fear shatter so many lives, I found myself building a shell around myself, too. 

Creating from inside helped me out. 

With more inventory than opportunities, my head said it was time to stop making. Stop throwing. Stop building. Stop painting. But my heart cried out louder saying making, throwing, building and painting is your only hope right now. 

Creating is your only move toward light, even if everything you create has to stay home. 

It became a very slow process. I had no normal routine. I didn’t set a schedule and there was no deadline to meet. But I threw small bowls. I built new teapots and painted new birds. 

Moving closer. 

I know I’m lucky in many, many ways. I am healthy. My spouse and children and grandchildren are all fine. Even as they struggle to juggle home, work and babies. They are finding their way in this crazy covid world. 

And they are moving closer to home. This month, after 6 years away, I welcomed my daughter, son-in-law and grand-baby back to Oregon. And my son also moved closer to us. 

Now on Mondays, we have Meyer and Cieran and Colin and Caitlin and Kyle to see. Now we  get to walk with them to the park. Watch them swing. Slide down the slide. All at the same park where my now grown ‘children’ used to play. 

Learning a new pace in the same place. 

This difficult time forced me to break the shell of routine. Work away worry. Discover moving slowly is my new pace. And welcome my family home while staying in place. 

How about you? Is it possible to stand aside from the pain and fear, just a little? To look beyond these five months and see some light, movement, possibilities and maybe, some good?

Life: Banquet or Starvation Diet?

"Look at yourself then. Consider everything you have fed yourself over the years.  Was it a banquet or a starvation diet?" 

This quote by Ray Bradbury popped up last week.  It opened my eyes letting me see life in an entirely new way.  I've always known there were choices out there.  Sometimes the choices get a bit overwhelming, sure.  And, sometimes, you don't get to choose because life or laws or circumstances get in your way.  But what I really saw is how much I self-limit my life.

Starvation diet: I was taught to count calories, budget my time and save my money.    

Now, sometimes these are good things to do.  I want to be healthy and energetic.  I want to be creative and productive.  I want abundance to support my loves and my life.  This means choosing wisely on many levels.  But a steady diet of limits leads to a life lacking in joy and enjoyment.

Banquet thinking: See my life as a plate to fill, refill or change with what really feeds me.

Again, that means choosing people, experiences, creative projects that fill me with yummy plates of soul satisfying sustenance.  It does sound wonderful, doesn't it?  It also sounds impossible.  Egotistical.  Or is it?  

Curiosity.  My word of the year pops up again, here.  

I'm curious.  What if just for a day or two, I look at my every little thing in and around my life as an item on a banquet table.  Seeing this moment, hour, day all as sections of the plate of my life.  I get to browse through all the experiences; people, sights, sounds, tastes, ideas and information and choose what and when I feed it to myself.  If there's too much of something or too little, I can change the menu.

On the banquet menu now:  Curiosity.  Creativity.  Fun.  Family.  Friendship.  Truth.  Connection.  Happiness.  Soul food.  Peace.  Fresh air.  Sunshine.  Flowers.  And, of course, Coffee and Chocolate.  Not necessarily in this order.