Sticking to the Point

Sabbatical

In chapter four of the Artist's Way, I had to read the heading, Reading Deprivation, twice to comprehend that it actually said no reading. Seriously? Cameron writes that during Artist's Way workshops, there's a lot of emotion that erupts from this: denial, anxiety, anger, fear. Especially fear. I quickly shut the book, having snuck a peek for the coming week, I didn't want to admit that I was being asked to not read. I've felt all of these emotions. I haven't actually read chapter four yet, knowing that I wasn't sure how I could possibly commit to not reading.

Emailing with Deezee ( my co-journey woman afar), about this week's chapter, she said she won't be reading. I so wasn't going to commit. I had my good excuses, I was convinced. As I responded, I realized that not blogging for the week, not reading and not writing would be cathartic for me. Especially the way I've been feeling about the whole bloggy thing. My daily journal entries will have a focus this week; I can write about this experience and see what transpires.

How timely that this comes at the end of 2007. A subtle gift, a gentle reminder to myself,  to step back and re-focus. To discover a balance and connection that brings me back to me.

Happy New Year friends. Peace and love.

Not a creature was stirring...

Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Joyeux Noel, Happy Festivus and love to all of you that visit Sticking to the Point. I appreciate all of your comments and support (especially your support), thank you. And to those visitors that don't say a word, I appreciate you stopping by too.

Peace and Love. xoxo

Sacred Life Sunday :: So What'cha want?

"it's not just when one door closes, another opens.

when one door closes, kristen, choirs burst into chorus, orchestras orchestrate, marching bands march, dogs catch frisbees, cats' chow, chow. chow, pigs' fly and 10,000 doors open.

kinda makes you want a door to close, huh?" 

-The Universe

Sometimes the door has to smack me in the ass before I hear the message.

As some of you know, I've been sorting through a dilemna with my professional self.

I haven't wanted to talk about it here, (which is why I started the other blog), mainly because I don't know who reads in my 'real' life and if there is someone visiting here from work, than I don't want them hearing anything here, until it's public there.

This all started back in February, when I received an email from the owner of the center where I rent, informing me that the extra massage room would no longer be available to me on Saturday's, that I'd have to 'deal' with the thumping walls and floor-pounding noise created from the NIA class next door. This decision was arrived at one afternoon when I walked into my office to find the owner and center's manager sitting in the chairs, determining the noise level. As if they could be objective. As if sitting in the chairs in any way simulates laying on the table with needles, eye pillow and soothing music. As if.

When it came time for our annual lease to be renewed, we were told the terms were changing; instead of our annual renewal, we were offered a month-to-month lease with a 90 day option for the owners and/or tenants to terminate. We were told not to worry. But it's difficult to not worry when you have no commitment, knowing at any time we could be asked to leave in 90 days.

Admittedly, I was bitter. I decided to watch The Secret and manifest all that I wanted for my practice with intention. I was specific. I let loose into the universe exactly what I wanted, where I wanted to be, what days I would work and less money for rent.

Ten months later, (yes, it took that long!), everything I asked for has transpired. And it's thrown me into a quandry because my nomadic heart isn't great with change, especially when there's no controversy. Yes, the situation isn't ideal, but I love the center for many reasons and I'd made my peace with the terms, choosing to believe that it would all work out. And it has. Exactly as I've asked.

I'm scared though. My strength is not in marketing. I've believed that being in the wellness center brings me business without any effort and in many ways, that has been true. But one patient every couple months is not the reason my business is thriving, it's ME. And wherever I am, my patients will follow. I keep telling myself this and some days, I can embrace this. Others, I wallow.

That's why when a beautiful mermaid offered her magic rocks for sale, I jumped. I believe in the power of lucky charms and talismans, especially when they have mermaid magic.

I believe.

It's Friday Love #88

Photo booth Friday. seaside heights, nj

Taken during the summer, this photo captures how I'm feeling, albeit with no tan lines and a lot more clothing. I'm kind of sick and kind of not. Weirdly run-down without feeling exhausted, I'm hoping a round of antibiotics will work in due course; being sick around Christmas seems to be 'my thing'.

The little stuff

• Clementines. Boxes of them.
• Meeting my friend on Sunday evening in the city for cocktails, blasted antibiotics, dinner, just girls.
• Agave syrup instead of Splenda.
• An incredible wall hanger to display photos and postcards, bought here.
• Favorite Old Navy tees, on sale, bought in bulk.

the divine miss A.

dude, it happens.

Wellness Wednesday :: impromptu

I began The Artist's Way a few weeks ago. Working with a friend close (I think she's still in) and one far, I had a rough start initially. The journal I'd chosen wasn't working and I kept forgetting to work my morning pages, not having connected, it didn't occur to me a couple of days that I was supposed to be writing.

I'm grateful that the weekly exercises don't include a weekly walk. With my bum, bursitis-ridden foot, walking isn't on the allowed list of physical activity.

With cold weather bombarding the Northeast, M suggested I grab my camera last Thursday evening because our world was covered in ice. Frozen droplets sparkling in the street lights, I took an impromptu artist date with my camera.

As I've worked my way through the exercises each week, I find myself reminding that I don't have an artistic mission and I'm comfortable with that. When I worked Finding Water, I had no intention and it lead me to a love of photography.

Much later, I realized I'd talked myself into believing that I'm not working anything out, that I'm open and clear in this process. Maybe instead of working through a writer's block, or hoping to complete a body of work, this process for me, will be about removing my road blocks and obstacles.

Talking to a friend this evening, she remarked that I've labeled myself as non-productive and yet, she described me as someone who accomplishes much and that it's almost always creative. Huh.

I've got a duality that I'd like to see wed. As passionate as I am about my life's work (and I love being an acupuncturist), I think I can say, it's not my passion. My passion is something creative. Maybe it's dabbling in a little of everything that interests me. Because I'm not making my livelihood as an artist, I don't have to define. Stifled and supressed for years after I left design, I was unable to recognize my creative self as an important aspect of who I am, unwilling to allow any of that in my life, now that it wasn't my job.

Maybe becoming a mother, gave me that freedom.  (It's incredible to write that, so sure was I  that I wouldn't mother.) Defining myself as a mama is enough. Artistically I can be whomever I want to be, because my role is clearly defined.

A stroll through NYC

I took an late morning train last Friday into the city.  An afternoon haircut, afterwards the plan was to meet M and go to the Met.

Arriving on the Lower East Side, I decide to stop for a quick cup of tea at Little Veselka, the kiosk off-shoot of the well-known restaurant on 9th street.

Somehow I wrote down the wrong time for my appointment and had to kill an hour before it was my turn. In Style magazine and a sugar-free Gingerbread latte, I sit in Star-crack and enjoy the time alone.

After my haircut, M and I decide it was too late to go to the museum. We make  plans to meet in front of J. Crew on 5th Avenue and I take photos along the way.

Arriving at the Union Square holiday market, I stop at the Beebop and Wally stall, hoping to find my size in the skirt I've been coveting. This is my third attempt and I'm in luck; I find my size and in my first color choice. Score!

Meeting up with M, we walk to the West Village, stopping in French Roast for a hot cup of tea.

Walking deeper into the village, it's too early for dinner, but not margaritas. We stop by Tortilla Flats for a quick one, ours frozen with salt.

We decide on dinner here, slightly disappointed when we discover the dinner menu isn't available until 6pm (we arrived at 5:30) and we had a lighter meal than planned.

The washroom has a common sink for men and women, allowing for this shot, my favorite.

After dinner, we weave our way up the avenue to Penn station, the city packed with holiday joy seekers and tourists.

Once back in our suburban oasis, we stopped at the local Italian joint for a glass of wine before heading home. We had a good laugh at the rumor that this bar/restaurant is a reputed "swingers" hang-out and talked about the potential couples cruising for new meat. We made sure not to catch anyone's eye. wink.

Sacred Life Sunday :: Power

As is my way, lately, I've been impatient. Anxious with the weight of decision-making, I've been more in my head lately, trying to sort out my professional self.

On Wednesday my acupuncturist C asked, 'have you been impatient?' as she read my pulse.*

I've been an impatient mama. Most week days, (weekends are entirely different), I am worn down by asking. I ask,

please pick out your clothes, please get undressed, would you like ( ) for dinner?

And then I'll ask some more. Everyday it's the same routine and by the week's end, I've had it. In the morning, A isn't ready for breakfast. She wants me to pick out her clothes and then changes her mind. All the time I'm trying to move miss A along, so I can go make lunch, throw on clothes, shove a banana into my mouth, as I race out the door to warm up the car.

There are a lot of rules in first grade and I've added more to the mix, with no playdates after school except on Friday's. With a strict teacher this year, there's very little down-time during A's school day and it's very easy to lose that tiny play-time privledge if the rules aren't followed.**

During the parent-teacher conference, I giggled in my head as the teacher described A rolling away from the group as they listened at story time, that's so my girl. I'm sure by the end of the day, when I'm asking something of her, she's thinking 'enough woman. i'm watching hannah montana, i'm done.'

I have the power. It's really that simple. I can let this continue or I can change my attitude. Negativity hovers around our evenings; we're caught in our routine dance. I know with more focus and kindness, more attention, I can change the dynamic of how our evenings unfold. Less tears, more love. That's all A really wants, especially when she's tired. Attention. I'm too busy on the computer, folding clothes, straightening up...micro-managing, and I have the power to change that.

I don't expect this to be some Enchanted (which I loved by the way), moment, happily ever after. There will be more instances of impatience, there will be whinging and probably big droplet tears.

At least there's momentum, something that makes me feel present, no matter how tenuously we begin.

*This is the brilliance of Chinese medicine. Magic in the fingertips. Loathe to take the granulated herbal formula that truly tastes like bitter sludge, I'm preparing my decoction as I write this. I need this medicine and I'm shocked as I gulp it down, a taste of honey for afterwards laying close at hand, I realize this formula doesn't taste so bad. And again, I love this medicine. If the formula isn't terrible tasting, it means it's the right one.

**This school year has been a lesson in letting go. I have issues with A's teacher. But my girl likes her and doesn't complain, she's learning so much, and it's not about me. I'm learning that I can stand next to my child but I can't orchestrate or influence in the way that I've been able to for her first 5 years.

It's Friday Love #87

Photo booth Friday. These photos are so many ways from wrong (triple chins and fat arms much?) but it cracks me up just the same. I guess it just proves I'm not afraid to poke fun at myself? No really.

The little stuff.

• Pre-holiday sales, especially at Old Navy.
• Picking out my holiday present from M

• Irish Breakfast tea from Trader Joe's
• After an early afternoon haircut, I'm planning a visit to the Met to see the Rembrandt exhibition and a few of my favorite friends.
• Dinner out with the mister in the city and a holiday party on Saturday
• this poem

Wellness Wednesday :: dead ends

I'm trying to make the life I want, instead of letting my life make me. I'm trying to eat better (be damned, sugar binges) and I'm trying to love the regular gym thing I've got going. I'm showing up to do the work.

Less appealing, but equally (if not more) important, is the internal stuff; who do I want to be. Specifically, how do I represent and who will I share my time with.

Since I began blogging, I've been introduced to creative, brilliant and lovely women, many that I'm lucky enough to call friend. Equally, there have been blogging relationships where I've given of myself too readily; hoping for a connection, I give too much importance to those new friendships. Needy.  I think because I'm solitary for large portions of my day, everyday, I've looked to the internet for friendship, especially since my experiences in the past 10 years of being online, have been so positive.

I'm trying to have my blog reflect more of who I am today, and I'm cleaning house. I've got a new banner and I'm going to change around my blog roll. I feel guilty for wanting to clean it up, yet I've been clamoring to do so for months.  Sometimes removing someone hurts feelings and I haven't wanted to do that. It's silly really, this need to make everyone (virtually) happy.  I've thought about doing away with the blog roll, especially now that I'm using bloglines. But I like linking new friends and old, I like to be able to click around on links from my site and I know of one blogging friend who likes to click from my roll, so it stays.

I want to get back to posting content for myself, not for comments. I allow myself to get caught up and suddenly its become too important; not the creative outlet it was intended for.

HELP!!

As you can see, my banner is f-ed. I can't figure out how to resize it and haven't been able to figure out how to change the size in typepad. Why am I so challenged with the computer when it seems like everyone else has no problems?? Waaah. Can someone help me please?

edited to add: I fixed the problem for now. I still haven't a clue what I'm doing, but it doesn't look awful. sigh. Back to our regular scheduled programming later.