What would a person succumb to if they lost their ability to create or it was forcefully taken away during times of joy, sadness, anger, anxiety, illness or struggle? Most people have developed coping routines, whether they are conscious of them or not, that they do automatically during emotional periods of their lives.
But we only celebrate the joyful and not the sad or desolate times. I’m not saying that we should celebrate the sad or angry times but perhaps by stepping back we’ll realize that those times will pass and they’ll in turn incubate a new time for you.
Over the last few months I slipped into a darkness. I tend to write more during darker times with much of the words being hidden away behind the scenes as WordPress post drafts. I stop drawing… completely stopped drawing. The last time I picked up a pen to draw or doodle with was six weeks ago which spelled a beginning or rather crunch time when decisions must be made in order to find the clarity and love one so desperately needs.
I shut myself in. I barely spoke to anyone. Yes, I did the daily tasks reading and answering emails to the best of my ability and yes, there were happy hours and moments of what felt like normalcy. And in the end those happy times turned sour for days again quite quickly. And yes, people got angry at me online and offline ’cause I didn’t respond quickly enough or with enough fervor. I am one person, not a multi-national corporation and while I do my best to be prompt, it won’t always happen.
I finished my taxes during the last six weeks. I began the task of applying for an art creation grant that I hope to finish and submit later this week. I rented one room in my home only to find out on Facebook that he moved out, without giving notice, and only after he read my last blog post, while I was away in Fredericton having my computer repaired for five days. No hard feelings on either of our parts part. That’s the beauty of choice. A personal blog for me is simply a form of creative expression… a diary… a way to work through life and share ideas and I have no control over what another person decides to do after reading.
I could barely cry during the last six weeks or laugh for that matter. I danced numb and around to music in the studio during the last six weeks. I paced. I watched movies. I talked a lot to anyone, namely my parents, the postal clerks, the cat and two close friends who would listen in real life and also to people online too. I repeated myself a lot while talking. I lost the feeling and sense of touch in my hands and all over my body and feet during the last six weeks and it only returned last Sunday while in Fredericton. My eyes grew puffy and I had to drop dead on the bed to nap even after 10 hours sleep. I never slept soundly and awoke with a start each morning grinding teeth. I applied for a job and went on an interview and was offered that job last week.
I went into hiding for six weeks. I came out of hiding one night and attended the gallery hop only to become more confused after talking to two awesome but drunk doctors that night and being told it was wrong of my docs out West to withhold treatment for ADHD. I didn’t get a chance to say that I moved back east two weeks after getting that diagnosis. And I talked in the backroom with the wife of a gallery owner who has hypothryoidism away from the incessant noise of the gallery and it was the most memorable peaceful time of the whole night. We understood each other and it was good.
And I realized over the last six weeks that there isn’t too many people in real life who “get” me or maybe I just don’t “get” them. And that’s OK. No hard feelings.
I pondered selling my car and have made the decision to sell it after the brakes are fixed. And I couldn’t be more happy to begin walking and taking the bus when needed again for socializing is good when you work and live alone. And while having a car is convenient I can’t justify the cost or alienation from society that I feel when driving.
Over the last six weeks I’ve lost hope in modern politics, farming and energy and long for peaceful, organic and renewable ways of living. I loathe fast paced life and am slowing things down and surrounding myself in joy, simple and exciting things.
We all deserve joy and pleasure after darkness. We all deserve a decent living wage for a weeks work. We all deserve the freedom to speak our mind without fear of what others will say or do when what you speak of, is not threatening, hateful or harmful to a specific person. We all deserve to live with open minded people if we choose too. We all deserve choice and that is where it’s OK to agree to disagree. We all deserve to make our homes what we want them to be. We all deserve friends and family. We all have a right to all of these things and I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose my ability to feel at peace in my own home or place of work because people think I shouldn’t be so damned open and shut online. If people were really so black and white we’d all be from the 1950’s and starring with Beaver Cleaver.
Really, we are just human beings attempting to live in a world that’s becoming more crowded, more fast-paced, more race to the bottom, more segregated, more polluted, more poor, more wasteful and for what? Only to die in 50 to 100 years? Really if you can’t see beyond your own lifespan into a brighter future and work to create a loving memorable environment for yourself in your community then what do you have, but nothing.
Life is good. Don’t give up!
And thank you all for reading, for the thoughtful emails and comments. They brighten my day, everyday.
The Perfect Baking Powder three colour printed coupon form the early 1900’s was put out by the Canada Spice and Specialty Mills which were located in Saint John, NB, Canada and listed for sale in my vintage shop. I’m also loving the change of pace with working on my hobby! Life is perfect!