they tell you it happens. that at some point you will hit that wall. that you will reach that point where suddenly and awkwardly you freeze, afraid of change. i’ve hit the wall. last night i didn’t just hit the wall, i ran headfirst into it and knocked myself out on the ground still for awhile. in fact i was so frozen in fear of where i was heading that i didn’t do much of anything. then i did what i do best in moments like those. i put movies on for the girls and sat down and wrote. and wrote. and wrote. wrote until 12:30 in the morning. some of it made sense, some of it did not. some of it moved me to tears, some of it was exposition which will probably get canned later.
it so happens that in the process of self-exploration and willingness to get to the next level there is a spot you have to get through, called doubt, self-loathing and reluctance to change.
everything about me right now falls into those categories.
i’m working out harder than ever getting myself healthy, but my muscles are screaming at me. at the same time i feel them and i know they are there and i feel strong. but somehow those last littly squishy bits which of course i may have to accept are going to be with me forever seem to nag at me and always get the last word. so my body and mind it seems are struggling a bit with keeping up and we aren’t even going to talk about the casserole of macaroni and cheese I made last night and ate. by myself. stuck.
i’m shooting photos, i’m editing, i’m writing, i’m doing all these things that are supposed to lead me to where i want to be, but i am having a harder time breaking through to the other side of doing something with this creative energy. it seems every time i want to put something out there, the doubt of the worthwhileness of it sneaks in and i fall into the blasted pattern of the fear of failure. and at the same time i fear i’ve taken on too much at once and though i love having a second blog, it almost feels like too much work most days. but again i don’t want to be that person that starts and then gives up, quits, never goes anywhere with anything.
so i made the decision last night to harness all this lovely negative energy. i wrote about my past. it is something i have never been able to do up until this point. i’ve written around it. i’ve written fuming entries about my ex-husband, i’ve written about the desperation of being a single mother, but i’ve never written about the fear, the depression, and that dark, dark place i went to during the end of that marriage.
and it surprised me.
i got through it. i cried a bit, but only after i went back and read it again. and i remembered it so vividly. and to me writing down a small portion of that part of my life, seeing myself the way i was and accepting, not blaming or hating that person i was gave me a little bit of perspective. i accepted who i was. with all my faults and wrong decisions. with all the dark scary feelings i never spoke a word of to anyone. i told myself it was okay.
and i can do that again. because i know what holding on to a place and being afraid to grow and reach feels like. i remember it. and though right now my circumstances are better and the change i’m seeking now doesn’t have such dire consequences as the one past, it teaches me the same lesson. to push past the doubt, push past the not feeling good enough, push past the not feeling deserving, and come out the other side.
i am still in a mood this morning. i hated the dog nosing me to get up. i hated the girls trying to get me out of bed before i was ready. i hated coming down to find all the things left undone yesterday. i hated the fact that i wasn’t waking up in a cottage in the woods on the edge of the coast in New England, walking out the door in my bare feet, my nightgown and a sweater wrapped around me, wood under my feet and a cup of tea in my hand. because that is where i wrote myself to sleep last night. and maybe that is where i will wake up one day.
for now i decided to write this. and then at the girl’s suggestion we are going back to the gardens today. we are going to take the long loop around the meadow, walk under the giants in the wood, climb the treehouses and then maybe rest by the chime tower. i’m throwing the hair up, slipping on a soft cotton t-shirt and slipping on the worn, comfortable jeans that are at least a size too big. i’ve always found the best place to grow, the best place to heal, the best place to just BE is in a place such as this and perhaps there under the trees, walking through the meadow, sitting listening to the chimes, i will grow past this fear of moving on and learn to walk gracefully into it.