…and while I was playing tag with a rainbow
it stretched itself into a complete arch that could not be captured with my camera
I just stood there in the middle of the field laughing out loud
I made it home just before the rain got heavy
– I even brought in the laundry in time.
*
m©a, 2016
Intuitive Painting.
Dear human beaming,
envy is so last year, but it certainly moved me along once again.
It went something like this:
Just before Christmas a friend of mine wrote me how she for the first time in a long time was excited about life. I was happy for her, and yet I felt a jolt of envy I felt upon reading it. Rarely jealous, I take these kinds of sentiments seriously – by now I know they always come with a message (usually connected to me neglecting some need in me).
After some soul-searching I ended up beginning the New Year by taking out my colours again. Acrylics, water colours, gouache, crayons, pens, glitter; whatever I found in my art supply corner of the room. Brushes. I even ventured out in the newly arrived winter cold, half-sniffly, just to invest in a block of fresh water colour papers slightly bigger than any I had at home. Set it all up. Dipped the brush into water, and color, and began.
Excitement? Check.
All heart,
Minna
*
PS
Please remember that also 2016 is a year long. Plenty of time to get excited for all kinds of reasons and none. And next time you meet Jealousy, why not let it take you somewhere good?
PPS
The painting above is a part of a Woman Unleashed Online Retreat assignment I surprised myself by signing up to. Nudge nudge, wink wink, said the Universe, and I listened.
The Great Council gathering on the Plateau of Love on my kitchen table came to a conclusion quite contrary to what common media may want many of its consumers to believe in these times of to be or not to be charlie, and what not:
There is hope, and love rules.
Now let that THAT get you firecrackers going!
At the age of currently a few months into 35, I found myself embarking on a journey I did not see coming. Two weeks and some into the new, the first shock effects are wearing off, and I find myself musing at being re-introduced to the concept of (kind of free) weekends. I do still reign over many a detail during the rest of my week, but I have recently also agreed to follow a new-to-me-schedule over the course of maybe even the next few years in case all goes well – and I go well with it. Yes: I have decided to go back to school. And, no more of that, for now, for my mind is on sailing.
At this point, no need to rush to conclusions of any kinds. The times I have actually been out with a boat bigger than my father’s little putt-putt-engined rowing one, can be counted on exactly my thumb and index finger. However, although sailing may not have been the most accessible means of leisure and transport during my formative years amongst the fields and the forest, my recent, and second, little adventure on the waves left me with impressions that have cheered me onwards when the new beginnings as of lately felt awkward and challenging. See, as I, one particularly early and all but rainy morning, was biking to school and wondering whether there was any sense in any of the decisions I had come to make, I came to think of this:
A sunny day on the sea, a happy crew and a cool skipper, and a boat tilted by the wind, plowing its way through a watery highway. In order to navigate the small bay, we had to do that classical thing that those boats do so well, zig-zag across it (ah, it’s called tacking, I just discovered); the boom of the main sail sweeping across the deck letting the wind fill the sails anew. Depending on the force of the wind, the boat tilts more or less heavily to one side, and the change of direction can make that tilt from one side to the other rather sudden, violent, even. The counter-balancing keel usually keeps the boat from going around, as it did also on our little tour, making it all quite exciting, and quite jolly. And, so it came to be, that that one gloomy morning, I found shelter in a metaphor building on that memory.
Yes: changing one’s direction can indeed create abrupt shifts in the sense of balance and harmony. I may even find myself travelling quite a distance leaning more one way or another, out of my comfort zone, learning to adjust to the new lilt of things on the go. Mindful, I might be able to find rest in the middle of tension; present, I can use my mental and emotional energy as a grounding force rather than letting it disrupt my journey through fear or worry or a need to control the speed. I can allow myself to lean into something new, accepting that there are things I do not yet know how to do; finding gentle grace in being awkward, and loving me, still.
And, true, that, too: at some point I may find myself wondering whether I really want to be sailing in the first place, but that is a very other story.
*
The Answer to How is Yes is a wonderful little book by Peter Block on worthwhile business (and life) management. I first read it at the recommendation of a dear colleague, and enjoy returning to the for me appealing wisdom of it every now and then.
Study something, anything. It is the act of learning that is transforming. If you think you don’t have time, or love totally what you are doing, or can’t keep up with what you are into now, think again. You are hiding from a deeper excursion into your own possibilities.
Wild Woman Was Here. 