Let's Pretend We're Catching Up Over a Cup of Tea...


I’ve already written this, but I’m going to try again, because for some reason, I’m compelled to. 

Lately, I’ve been using my old LiveJournal account to write more personal blog entries, usually about my day, things I did, thoughts that floated through my head. It’s been so freeing to be able to simply sit down and write as the words come into my head, not worrying about if I sound a certain way or am letting things get too long. I’ve grown to consider this place my professional blog, and have approached it as such, trying to sound deep, inspiringly cheerful, or whatever else I’ve gleamed from those wildly popular and successful blogs I sometimes read and wish to be. I want to be read and seen and heard and making a proper living from my work. I want to go and be invited to speak at events or retreats (heck, I’ll settle for being invited to teach!), and write awesome e-books that get oodles of downloads. 

And I think I felt I needed to present myself in a certain way in order to achieve said dreams. But the truth of the matter is, I don’t sound like them. At all. One of my favorite bloggers, Jenny (aka The Bloggess) writes in a way that makes me feel as though we’re sitting over some hard liquor as she chats with me and makes me laugh at the way she records her life. 

This all comes down to feeling silly

Today, while I was walking to my car in the Target parking lot, I thought about this. I don’t want to go heavily into why this came into my head — oh, I kind of do, because I think it’s something we can all relate to. I was feeling silly because a huge thing going on in my life is a reconnection to the Divine, and I was thinking about how silly I probably look when going through the motions of religion. What if there’s really no one up there? What if people see me and laugh? I think that’s one of the amazing things about churches, temples, and mosques, etc — you’re with others who share your faith and that adds energy to what’s going on. There’s less of feeling silly. 

(I consider myself a Spiritual Cowgirl. The term comes from THE BEST BOOK I’VE EVER READ on spirituality and joyful living, The Red Book. I checked it out from the library and loved it so much, I ran out and bought a copy. And have bought copies for friends!)

Anyway, I was ruminating on all this while shopping for a new wallet. I’m weird, I know. And as I was walking to my car, my other-self (or my Guardian Angel, God bless her patient soul!) said to me:

“Stop worrying about feeling silly. Take off that sweater you’re wearing just because you think that little poof of your stomach makes you look horrible and unattractive. You like silly. Those girls you watch on YouTube are insanely silly and you love them for it. So stop thinking this way.” 

Which is a kick in the pants. I’ve been getting a lot of those lately. 

I think it all comes down to doing what you think you’re supposed to do, and what you want to do. Within certain limits, of course. For example, I have a to-do list of things I think I should be doing, except my head is in my studio and all the fun things I could be doing in there. I’ve given my life a bit of structure, that is, during the week, I work, and on the weekends, I don’t answer emails or deal with sign ups or anything administrator-y. Call it a mini-vacation. Yet I’m finding that I want to work more fluidly, letting things be created and worked on when I’m feeling pulled in that direction. 

I have no lack of inspiration, and love all the plates in the air. There’s so much I want to do and accomplish (see the first paragraph again…) and this can only happen if I’m my true self

Out chatting with Dawn yesterday, I began telling her about Born Brave. You may have noticed that tab up there, and even clicked on it. There isn’t anything there, yet, because, well, I’m a bit scared. Terrified, even. And while I love the exhilaration of such an endeavor, I am still full of doubt. But as I sat there with her, telling her about how honored I am to receive emails from woman all over the world living with chronic illness and — this is the part that really touches me — that I’ve inspired them to try art, or let them live this magical artist’s life through my posts and blog…can I just say, here, that I’m honored and humbled by such amazing gifts? That each one makes me cry and touches my heart? I’m crying just writing this — and that’s the magic of this all. That when I talk about Born Brave, and what I’m hoping to do, I cry and soar and am afraid…how can there be any doubt in the face of all that?

But that’s where I’m going. It’s a huge undertaking and I’m afraid it won’t pay off (as I have to invest in additional features to make it work), but I love that feeling of fear and the tears I cry because that means I’ve picked the right path. Can’t see where it’s going, but I’ve gone too far to turn back now. 

I have this dream of spending the summer living out of a suitcase. I have three friends across the country I want to visit, and want to hop around and see what happens. I can see myself arriving and relaxing and creating and refilling myself in their company. I have three offerings I’m aiming to make available to you by May so I can run off and live a gypsy summer and blog/vlog from the road. 

And that, my darlings, is how I write for real. As though I’m writing a good friend an email or updating others on what’s going on in my life. No grand statements or bullet lists or even a clean line of thought, but like I said — I’m going to stop being afraid of what others think of me and start being silly. 

Starting with tomorrow’s video. Oh, the opening’s silly as hell, but I don’t care. It’s what I saw in my head, and I’ve gotta go with it. 

I hope you, do, too.