Tuesday is my creativity night - the night of the week I set aside to sing, paint, play piano, write or just play in some other way I often neglect. Last week was my first time in a long while returning to my choir and it was an amazing reminder of just how much I love to 'make a joyful noise' and how easy it is for me to neglect doing the things that make me feel the me-iest.
Tonight I am 'just' blogging. Of all the creative things I love to do, blogging is the one I do the most frequently. Sometimes it feels like cheating, since it's not really a stretch to blog. And, recently it hasn't been frequent enough. I feel like when I don't journal - either online or in one of my lovely bound journals - thoughts get stuck in my head. They languish in back eddys. They stagnate and die.
And then the reminders start. The twitter DMs and Facebook posts - where's the blog? Are you blog bogged? And the reminders that people read this make me want to not say anything. It's easy to be frank when I think no one is out there.
The thing is, I love blogging mostly, but lately I just want to mull things over. Work has been amazing and somewhat intense. I'm adjusting to working 5 days a week again, to growing and stretching in my new position, and to the opportunity and challenge that having a job I really care about is. It's an honour to contribute to a great organization that contributes to our community. An honour, and a little bit of self-imposed pressure that I'm trying to let go.
Being a mom never ends even though both my beautiful BBs are stretching their wings. There are growing pains. And great triumphs.
Meanwhile, I'm having my own growing pains and great triumphs.
I'm working my way through a great little book - if the Buddha dated - and while I don't know how much is sinking in it's illuminating and a welcome change from trying to figure out for myself what gets in the way of my letting love in. Last night I started to really wonder - am I more afraid of being loved or of not being loved? How that question has repeatedly shown up is in vascillating between being strong and independent ("I don't need you!") and being desperate and clingy ("I'm nothing without you"). So I say things I don't mean and send mixed signals and confuse myself as much as anyone who is inclined to get close to me. I'm saying things like "it drives me nuts when people act like they are in a relationship after 3 dates" and then wanting the reassurance of the instant relationship, even though my experience has been that doesn't work.
I know, and I hope you know, neither of those extremes are me. I'm the girl in the middle - dancing, laughing, singing, painting, strong and connected, alive and shining. In all my relationships - whether you kiss me or not.
Miss Lady told me a brilliant theory recently. She said it comes from Chinese philosophy, but then she says that about a lot of things. ♥ Anyway, the analogy is one that speaks to me: love is like a cauldron hanging over a fire. It doesn't take very long to bring a small cauldron to the boil, but it will soon boil dry. And if it's removed from the heat the smaller cauldron cools down quickly. On the other hand, it may take a large cauldron longer to boil in the first place, but it can take the heat for longer and will retain the heat long after the initial fire burns out.
(I think Miss Lady probably sounded much wiser and more zen-like when she said it.)
So maybe this blog post isn't creative. Maybe I should have worked on my painting or played my piano. And here it is, none-the-less. The title may seem more optimistic than realistic at this point. But I know that when I'm really me - the girl people gravitate to, me unleashed and uncensored by my fears - I shine and sparkle. Tonight I'm not that. But I am here, holding a small spark protected in the palm of my hand. Nurturing the ember and urging it on so I can let my little light shine again.