And so it begins …

The end of the Thanksgiving weekend, and it all goes into full swing. For all the things I both want and need to do, this is my goal:

But rarely how it ends up. I’m an organized person, but somehow all that I have to do for the holidays still sneaks up on me, and I am immediately overwhelmed. It’s not just the personal cards and gifts and plans that I have in front of me, but what should be one of the busiest times of the year business-wise is looking me square in the eye as well.

I should have already done more to get my Etsy shop noticed, but this year, I’ve been working on self-publishing my beautiful picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night?. Sadly, the small company that published it went out of business and recycled all copies. I decided to invest the money and purchase the gorgeous original art and the rights; I just couldn’t see my first published book disappearing off the face of the earth. I’m working hard to reformat the entire book (particularly all the artwork), into a size used by self-publishing platforms, as they don’t offer the original published size. Tick, tock, can I get it up on Amazon in time for holiday sales?

Or for my other commitment, as a vendor at the Christmas Market in my own town? Everything seems like it should take an hour or two, and that’s never the case. And then there’s this guy …

You couldn’t ask for sweeter, but Charlie experienced a traumatic event earlier in the year. Too long a story, but he has PTSD, and it expresses itself in his obsessively moving things, pulling things, breaking things. Imagine a cat in a new home expressing his natural curiosity in everything, and then crank it up to mach-speed. With patience, strategic re-arrangement of furniture, and the help of some flower remedies in his water, he’s calming down. I’m surviving, always loving him, but there have been days …

And so the holidays begin. Still aiming for that goal above.

Hoping your holidays are calm and (relatively) stress-free!

Press Play

Everything is change. The secret is still love and kindness.
And we’re here to press play.

There are so many negative, non-loving, hateful energies in play right now. But still, the only way through is love, kindness, respect. Let’s keep pressing Play.

Being Kind

You don’t want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don’t want to tell it, I want to listen

to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.

And anyway
it’s the same old story —
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.

Mostly, I want to be kind.

– Mary Oliver

How Much Time for Ourselves?

Technically speaking, all our time is for ourselves, but when we ask this question, what is implied is how much time for things we don’t have to or should do. How much time for things that make us happy or give us pleasure? And how do we even know where that line is?

The bottom line is (speaking for myself), I am not getting any younger and there are things that are important to do, even if reading a book is one of them, or sharing time with like-minded people. There is always the reality that an income needs to be made, a house kept up, animals cared for, but what about the rest?

Raised in a society that firmly believes in a strong work ethic (which is fine to a degree), we are also often raised to believe that we should always be busy, “doing something” (meaningful is the implication there), and enjoy our reward at the end of the day or perhaps on the weekend. But what about if we toss our schedule and sit and read a book for a few hours smack dab in the middle of the (work) day? Or write? Or draw? Is that tyranny? Punishable by guilt?

Personally, I’m very tired of the restraints that are so incorporated in our brains that they became our reality. But that’s just the old reality we were raised with. I want to create a new reality. I am ready for the book you see here – it’s about changing everything and the way we perceive it and how we live and how we can heal ourselves. It requires learning, understanding, and focusing in a way that we were never taught, or even knew existed in those formative years. Change.

How much time is really for me? For ourselves? Why not change the equation?

On Being Vulnerable

There are still many outdated ideas running around that to be vulnerable is to be weak, and in this country, at least, especially if you’re a male. The truth of the matter is that to let our guard down and let someone in, or to truly open up to our own creativity and inner light … to be vulnerable … takes courage. That’s not weak — it’s brave.

And it takes trust, trust that we won’t be hurt, that we won’t fail, that we won’t find ourselves incapable of meeting the task at hand, whatever it might be.

As a visual artist, I find being vulnerable extremely challenging. As a writer, I am somewhow able to put my heart and soul into words, whether writing for myself, or as I did for over three decades, writing fundraising appeals for literally thousands of abused and neglected animals. I had only to look at their pain, and the words flowed. And our donors could feel what these animals suffered through my words, and helped support their healing and care.

Art? That takes digging deeper. I find myself in a daily dance of desire and resistance. What do you — what do we — find so frightening about pulling forth our art, in whatever form, from the depths of our being? Of laying it out in front of no one’s eyes but our own?

Being vulnerable, even to ourselves, can be a challenge. Finding the beautiful light within and letting it shine brilliantly is so important. The world needs us.