creativity

Fruits of My Courage and Trust – Day 281

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First Owl – Photo: L.Weikel

Fruits of My Courage and Trust   

The other night I entitled my blog post “Phoning It In.” At the time I wrote it, I was beyond tired, and it felt like anything I might write would be rote and vapid.

But as soon as I started writing, I knew the post wouldn’t be boring or average. (Short, yes. But that’s because it was after 4:00 a.m. when I started writing it.) I’ll admit it: I was giddy.

I was buzzing – literally – from giving myself permission to try something new and just diving right in. As I described in that post, I was sorta kinda pressured into trusting my friend Luz. She swore up and down that I could create a painting I’d be excited about – and she could show me how, if I would only trust her. If I would show a little courage and just immerse myself in the experience.

Immersion Theory

If I really think about it, it was this immersion in the experience that really juiced me. And what’s also intriguing is the connection between what I’ve taught Luz and what she taught me: I do believe that the skills I’ve honed in learning how to journey, as well as the further practice of cultivating the ability to take notes during my process of straddling the worlds, have cultivated my ability to immerse myself in a task.

The process of journeying takes a great deal of focus and attention – especially when receiving a lot of specific information or guidance. And I’ve found through the years that if I doubt, if a significant enough portion of my consciousness stands outside of the work, observing with arms folded and skepticism (and doubt) coloring my experience, my perceptions and ability to receive and process information from other realms is seriously compromised.

As Above So Below

Or in other words, trusting myself and just surrendering to the experience almost assuredly makes any such experience itself exponentially richer. As a result, I figured, “What the heck?” I could feel it. I needed to either be ‘all in’ or not do it at all. That’s because I could very easily have allowed a huge part of myself to stand slightly aside as I painted, with arms folded and ego fully engaged, criticizing and worrying about every single stroke I made on the canvas. And I knew, I could feel, that would buckle my ability to create.

But Luz had asked me to trust her, to trust her process – a process she’s developed and practiced herself for several years. So it was only fair.

As I’ve mentioned, I’ve asked Luz to trust me many times. To trust my description of the process of journeying and to trust her ability to see, receive, and perceive other realms.

So I went ‘all in.’ As she assured me over and over, “Lisa, you can always paint over it and start again. Don’t over-think it.”

“Just go for it.”

So I did.

Beginner’s Luck

My very first creation was “First Owl,” above. I could barely believe my eyes.

My second creation, below, I call BearWolf, perhaps for obvious reasons, depending upon your perspective, perhaps not. While I don’t feel it’s nearly as amazing as First Owl (which I still attribute a bit – OK, a lot –  to ‘Beginner’s Luck,’ much to Luz’s annoyance), it’s still a piece I will enthusiastically hang in my office.

Wider Application

I’m getting a feeling that there’s a lesson here, a wider application for this Immersion Theory. I need to ponder it.

In the meantime, I offer you the fruits of my courage and trust. Thank you, Luz. Worthy investments – and a ton of fun.

BearWolf – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-830)

Drawing a Blank – Day 104

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Creations by Lois Gallagher at Redpandot.com – Photo by L. Weikel

Drawing a Blank*                

Like my I Got Nothin’ post, I’m drawing a blank. I’m starting this post with a blank mind. I would’ve said a blank page, and in fact I did say that originally, but deleted it because once I wrote that sentence it was no longer true.

That’s kind of fun to ponder, though. When I wrote that first sentence, or at least when I thought I should express how utterly devoid of ideas I was to write about, it was true. The slate was blank, the page was bare.

But by the very act of declaring that truth, its existence was negated.

I’m sure there’s a word or phrase that describes this philosophical condition. And I’m equally sure I don’t know it. Although if you hum a few bars… No seriously – if you tell me what it is, I’m sure I’ll recognize it (and feel like a dumbass for not being able to think of it right now).

Sparking the Need to Pack My Bags

Well, that’s all fine well and good, but it doesn’t change the fact that, in spite of the fact that my page no longer being blank, I’m still finding myself having nothing particularly interesting to share with you.

And the truth of this makes it even more painfully obvious to me that it is time for me to pack my bags; take a trip somewhere. Blow the proverbial dust off. Hit the road.

Quite honestly, I feel it is almost a responsibility I have to you, my readers, my compatriots on this 1111 Devotion journey, to go forth and muster up some adventures.

And while this, too, is true, unlike my statement at the top of the page, it only becomes truer and more urgent the more I write and think about it.

Adventures in Bali/Artistry in Brooklyn

This yearning to travel, which hits me hard every seven years or so (sometimes more frequently), is probably being tweaked by reading the adventures of my niece, Lois, in Bali, as she chronicles them in her blog on redpandot, her website devoted to her artistry with earth and kiln.

Indeed, her pottery is exquisite and I highly recommend you take a look at what she has to offer. You will find amazing pieces that beg to be displayed as art, even though they are designed to be used as housewares. Lois also creates an array of one-of-a-kind, distinctly unique rattles, which many of my clients and students have purchased to use in their own shamanic journeying.

As I mentioned above, though, as I write this, Lois is in Bali, where she is merging and melding her communion with the spirits of that place with the opportunity to work ‘hands on’ with the clay unique to the land of those spirits. All of which makes my own heart yearn for some more direct experiences of other cultures, particularly shamanic ones.

I hear Spirit calling my name…

* As this post ended up taking a turn toward Lois’s work, it makes me smile to consider this allusion to the act of ‘drawing a blank’ rune. I’ve been bugging her for quite a while to create a set of runes for me. For you. For all of us.

 (T-1007)   Rattles by Lois Gallagher – redpandot.com

Goodness – Day Fifty Six

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“Watercolor Sunset” photo by L Weikel

Goodness

I just finished watching the Golden Globe Awards. I knew I’d regret watching all the way until the end of the program (vis-à-vis writing this post), but for whatever reason, I kept watching.

The movies that were nominated for Best Drama were an eclectic conglomeration, and the actors, both male and female, nominated for Best of their respective categories were also an interesting mixture of ages and characters (both on and off screen).

The tenor of the awards on the whole felt a bit melancholy to me. Or maybe I’m just projecting.

The entertainment industry in many ways not only influences our culture but also reflects it, and I’m not sure which comes first. Or I should say, I’m not sure whether we or the industry are the chicken.

The recipients of the last several awards bestowed, which are the reason I started writing this post later than even my usual ‘late,’ were worth the fleeting sacrifice of time. They were worth it because they each displayed what appeared to me to be grace and class.

Grace and Class

The attributes of grace and class are sorely needed in our society and in our hearts right now. We all know it. We all feel it. Obviously, that’s a sweeping statement, and I cannot truly speak for ‘all’ of us or ‘all’ of anything. But wow.

Watching Carol Burnett receive the first annual award in her name with her famous humor and genuine compassion for her co-workers and the opportunity provided her by her grandmother, and then watching the audience’s reception and loving appreciation of Dick Van Dyke…both of these moments were touching and tender. The poignancy of these moments was made even more tangible by the fact that both of these people are not only icons of entertainment. They’re good people.

And that, too, was a theme that was curiously present throughout the evening: when presenters or even recipients wanted to bestow truly profound praise on another, they made a point of appreciating the other’s inherent and basic goodness.

Goodness

Buttressing my blanket statement, above, is something I know I personally feel, but also sense is felt in a vast majority of our country: the need for a balm of goodness to soothe our raw and weeping souls.

We are bombarded on a daily basis with more and more selfishness and callous disregard of pretty much anyone else’s cares or concerns, safety, health, or even life. And it is hurting all of us. We know we aren’t like that; and we know most of the people around us aren’t, either. And yet we see and know it is all around us. Drowning us in hate and fear.

Thus, I was touched to watch Glenn Close react in complete and utter obvious surprise to her win for Best Actor (Actress) for her role in The Wife. Her acceptance touched me, particularly her dedication of her win to her mother, whom Close said had sublimated herself to her husband her whole life, only to admit regret for ‘not accomplishing’ anything right before she passed away in her 80s.

And Rami Malek, winning for his portrayal of Freddie Mercury of Queen – his acceptance was also filled with incredible humility, grace, and class. But when the film, Bohemian Rhapsody, also won for Best Picture, it was astonishing, really, to watch this young man deliberately stand aside in order to have all the attention and accolades go to the producer of the film and the remaining band mates of Mercury.

Mostly in body language, but conveyed in a language anyone with eyes to see could appreciate, this young man was behaving with inherent and absolutely lovely goodness.

I need to end this now. But my heart is a little less heavy having witnessed the goodness tonight. I hope it is a reflection of our culture, and a reclamation and affirmation of who we truly are.

(T-1055)

Never Too Late – Day Fifty Two

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Never Too Late

As we’re only drawing to a close the 2ndday of January (or for many of you, just beginning the 3rd), I’m trusting that the lustre of choosing to bring something nurturing or stimulating or creative into your life, as I encouraged in my New Year’s Eve post, has not yet worn off. And remember: it’s never too late to begin.

I find the thought of ‘bringing in’ new experiences or activities to our lives, and hopefully making them habit-worthy, simply tantalizing. I can’t wait to see and hear about how your new devotions play out in your perception and appreciation of your lives.

Discovering Doors to Our Future

It’s as if we’re opening a door to our future that we’ve barely even allowed ourselves to see before now. When we’ve looked in that direction other times, all we’ve seen is a wall because we needed to make ourselves perfect before giving ourselves permission to indulge in an urge to create something uniquely ours or engage in something that simply brings us joy.

And yes, even bringing in the opportunity to read more books is a creative endeavor. Because reading inspires us to live in so many more worlds than we realize could exist if we simply view our own experiences in our own finite bodies to be the limit of what is available to us.

The opportunity, though, to indulge in exploring an activity that has called to us, perhaps in a whisper for the first few years, but which has probably grown louder and more persistent as the years ticked by, can lead us places we might never, ever expect. And while the point of this new perspective is, essentially, to give ourselves permission to listen to our hearts, it can also lead to people outside of ourselves clamoring for more. Or to our passion saving the world. Or maybe even changing the course of history.

Early Choices Shouldn’t Define Us

In our youth-obsessed world, we often tell ourselves that we have to decide what we want to ‘be’ or ‘do’ with our lives by the time we’re 18. Some people are given leeway and permitted to explore who they are and what they want to ‘do’ in the world by taking a variety of courses in college.

I don’t know about you, but that was a myth for me (and I went to college a long damn time ago). You pretty much had to pick the area you wanted to get your degree in and were lucky if you got the chance to take a couple of electives in completely unrelated fields during your entire four (or so) years. Which makes me suspect that it’s even much more rare for young people attending college now to actually explore in that mythical, idealistic portrait painted of college life. It costs too much to lollygag around taking courses you will almost certainly see no tangible monetary benefit from taking.

I bring this up because I feel the vast majority of people walking around today were thrust far too early into making choices that influence everything about the rest of their lives. And they’re left wondering – even if only fleetingly, and ever so quietly to themselves – what it would feel like to immerse their fingers in paint and try to capture the beauty of that bluebird they saw perched on a fencepost along their walk.

As a result, we just deny, deny, deny. “I’m too old.” “It’s too late.” “I don’t know how.” “I have no time.” Oh, the excuses we mouth, each one of them killing our spirit a little bit more with each utterance.

Late Bloomers Are Real

Well, I want to hook you up to a very cool website that just might inspire you to keep up with whatever activity you decided to invite into your life this year.

The website is Later Bloomer, and is created by a friend of mine, Debra Eve. We met way back in 2014 at a writers’ conference in Taos, New Mexico.

I will let you explore her site and perhaps sign up to receive her weekly emails which always have something fascinating to teach me about the possibilities open to us simply by choosing to say yes to our passions instead of making excuses. Or feeling as if we missed the boat when we made life choices at 18 or 22. Or 30. Or…

Indeed, just today I received notification from Debra of a wonderful calendar she’s created for 2019 around the concept of ‘red letter days.’ Check it out.

This year is going to be different, you guys. I know it.

(T-1059)

Commitment – Day Fifty

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 6 Comments

Commitment

OK, I’ll admit it. I’m pretty much phoning this one in.

I’m nursing a slight headache, I was a little brought down by yet another day full of low hanging clouds and relentless rain, and this is my fiftieth consecutive post!

Actually, that last part makes me smile.

I’m glad I’m sitting up here on my bed, with but minutes to spare before the ball drops and 2019 begins, and I’m writing this.

I find it fascinating that I feel so connected to you; and I do feel that there is a ‘you’ at the other end of this post. There are eyes reading these words. And I’m intrigued by this relationship I feel we’re cultivating.

If I didn’t feel something, I wouldn’t be sitting up here all by myself, writing this. But I’m not all by myself, am I?

Thank you for supporting me energetically and otherwise over the past fifty days.

I’d like to invite each one of you to join me in some form of devotion to yourself in 2019. Maybe contemplate not giving something up as you enter this new year, but rather bringing something in, instead.

Turning off the television and reading for an hour before bed every night.

Keeping a journal and writing at least one page (and preferably three – wink wink), every day.

Drawing or taking a photograph with your phone every single day to document your joy.

Realizing you are loved. And appreciated. Even if it is ‘only’ by yourself.

Thank you for walking beside me. I look forward to 2019 – together.

(T-1061)

Hoarding or Holding? – Day Forty Eight

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Hoarding or Holding?

I’m struggling a bit.

I’ve been fantasizing for a few years about cleaning out what we call our ‘office’ and making it a place where Karl can paint and I – possibly, occasionally (probably never) – might read or write especially when I need some sunshine in the winter.

The reason I’ve been relegated to fantasizing about this for at least the last couple of years is because it entails going through files. And I am nothing if not exceedingly organized, with a file for everything – and occasionally a couple for the same thing. Also called inadvertent redundancy.

Filing Cabinet of Life Events

I started this post out with the intention of reflecting on that razor’s edge upon which I slip and slide (and often cut myself) when going through filing cabinets that seem to hold the history of our life as a family. You see, there is a filing cabinet I’ve moved from law office to law office, with a final resting place in my home office. For many years, it held my active legal files. Then as the kids got into high school and college, it started holding inoculation records, academic awards, test results, and newspaper clippings. Files were created for traffic tickets and leases, contracts and resumés. Some of the legal intermingled with the personal: my parents’ estate files, for instance.

Well, it’s time to move the filing cabinet out of the ‘office’ in order to transform the room into a studio. Studios don’t have filing cabinets. Ok, maybe some do. But not in this house.

And that’s not to say that I don’t have an effective filing system that is shifting to the ‘library annex’ mentioned in one of my previous posts. Nope; given that I’m the one that keeps all the records of all our businesses and family and home life, they’re of course moving with me to said ‘library annex.’ But I’m cleaning out that filing cabinet.

And I’ve been steadfastly refusing to clean that baby out for years now, precisely because of the nature of the files that made their way into it.

Without Proof Does a Life Disappear?

So today, I found myself in tears. Damn it; didn’t want to go there. I’m stuck, feeling the dilemma of deciding what to do with the files documenting Karl’s applications to colleges in 1999. His exchange experience in Norway. His grades at NYU; the details of his management contract in California and NYC. There’s so much history in those files.

Poor Sage – home for the holidays and eager to help me shift the life of the room to a studio… He checked on me at one point and realized I had tears running down my face, ridiculously wondering out loud if I threw stuff away that documented these milestones, would that erase all proof that Karl had existed?

And so I am left with that nagging question of how much to save and how much to feed the shredder.

I’m not inclined to scan this stuff, so that’s not an option. It will either survive as a real-life, tangible document, or it will be gone. <<Poof>> Just like he was. Just like we all are. From documents to artwork to green eyes and dazzling smiles.

Where’s the Edge?

So what is the edge between hoarding the memories in an unhealthy manner and holding on to some aspects of life as evidence for our future ancestors to literally hold and turn over in their hands? And why or for whom do I do either? Or neither?

Sometimes I wish I could just throw it all out with abandon. And then I think about the thousands of people who’ve lost everything in fire, flood, or other disaster, and I’m grateful for the torture these choices represent.

(T-1063)

Resistance – Day Forty Two

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Resistance

I hate being faced with my glaring deficiencies; resistance being one of them.

Sometimes they just walk up and stand in front of me, though, and no matter what I do, I can’t get around them.

One of those that’s staring me down at the moment is a resistance to marketing. Marketing myself in any way, for anything, primarily. But marketing in general is always a persistently vexing subtext.

I might as well speak substance, since I don’t have a big window tonight: I’ve been invited to participate in the I AM Winter Solstice Symposium, arranged and produced by my friend, Renee Baribeau. Renee is the author of Winds of Spirit, which was published by Hay House this past spring.

I AM Winter Solstice Symposium 2018

Renee did our interview ahead of time. Mine airs tomorrow. The entire program began on Thursday evening, with an opening Fire Ceremony in honor and celebration of the Solstice. I dropped the ball by not sending out an announcement about the Symposium to my Hoot List several days ago, a lapse which I really must rectify tonight, if possible.

The problem is, beyond (or perhaps in tandem with) my resistance to marketing is my reluctance to get knee deep into technological endeavors, such as trying to figure out how to insert into a Hoot Alert the graphics Renee so generously provides me.

Seriously, I should have this stuff figured out by now.

Join the Wind Clan on Facebook

So let me just say this now: My presentation is airing tomorrow (Christmas Eve) at 1:00 p.m. EST. In order to access it, you need to join the Wind Clan on FB at this link. (And if I haven’t figured out how to add that link before I have to hit <publish> on this post, please check out my Hoot Alert, which I intend to write and get sent out before I go to bed tonight!)

Above and beyond my presentation, though (the subject of which will not surprise you if you’ve been reading these 1111 Devotion posts), are the presentations of 17 amazing women with unique and inspiring messages and suggestions for making your life a little bit richer, creative, and sacred.

Join us! And help me push past this resistance to marketing by enjoying my offering. Who knows what inspiration awaits!

(T-1069)

Where are the Close Encounters Now? – Day Forty One

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Where are the Close Encounters Now?

We just finished watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

I remember watching it at a movie theater when it came out. As we watched it tonight, I was transported back to the days when I was in college, and then first married.

Watching that movie in 2018 yet remembering what it was like to live in 1977, I was shocked. Yes, our computers are light-years beyond what we had at our fingertips back then. And yes, today there would probably be just as many women as men scientists involved in such a rendezvous (let’s hope).

But I was stunned to consider just how precious little we seem to have succeeded in exploring more deeply into space on a personal level in the past 41 years.

Think of it – forty one years! Shouldn’t we be at least communicating and establishing relationships with other civilizations by now? Or have a base on Mars or Venus or both?

We landed a human on the moon in 1969. I was ten years old.

When my mother was ten years old, in 1927, Lindbergh flew across the ocean.

Forty Two Years

There were only 42 years between having the technology to fly across the ocean and having the technology to not only fly to the moon, but also successfully land on it, and return to tell about it!

So, really –  it makes me question just what the heck we’ve been doing these past 42 years. It seems we’ve lost our way. Our curiosity as a country appears to have lost its focus on great scientific innovation and exploration of the natural world, in particular the universe (and multiverse), and turned instead to navel gazing and wondering how we can exploit the Earth most effectively to earn a small amount of people more money than they could ever imagine spending.

I know innovative research is still taking place. But I also know that there seems to be a lack of communal vision of working toward new horizons. Not to conquer, but to discover. Not to exploit, but to explore.

Is it just me, or were you hoping we’d be way further along the road to astonishing new discoveries, vistas, and opportunities by now?

Then again, I have my experiences of living my now to compare to the ‘reality’ depicted of every day life in the U.S. in 1977 (based upon the movie). They made fun of parapsychology in the movie. I have my degree in Psychology and made the mistake of mentioning parapsychology to the grad student I was a research assistant for as an undergrad. She ripped my head off when I even mentioned the word ‘parapsychology’ (and my interest in it).

And yet…look at me now. What I do. My education level. How I am of service to others.

Are the shamanic journeys I’ve learned to take the actual mode of exploration that’s going to shift the evolution of our world? Not what I would have thought, but think of the possibilities of uniting science and shamanism.

(T-1070)

Alchemy (Frenchtown, NJ) – Day Thirty Nine

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A Local Treasure

My favorite place to buy eclectic, eye-catching, and beautiful clothes is a shop called Alchemy, in Frenchtown, New Jersey. I’ve been shopping at this local treasure for quite some time – around 15 years, if I’m not mistaken. The owner, Cleo Sharplin, and her husband, Barry, bring artistry and visionary appreciation for color and unique cuts and fabrics to the Delaware River Valley, where I live.

In early November, I introduced my daughter-in-law to the treasures at Alchemy. I was sure Cleo would be able to find something amazing for her to wear to an event that was on the horizon. Based on my rave reviews, Tiffany was eager to meet Cleo and experience her ‘eye’ and perspective and the way she could ‘put things together.’

We were devastated to discover that Cleo had recently taken a serious fall down some steps in her home and was hospitalized with some dislocations and broken bones – including some vertebrae in her neck. Her recovery was looking scary and extended, and we could see the extreme concern and worry in Barry’s eyes as he described her condition.

Keeping It Together

For his part, in an effort to maintain normalcy, Barry was taking time from his own job to keep the store open, while visiting and staying by Cleo’s bedside when not at the store.

After making our purchases, we assured him that we would keep both of them in our hearts and hope for the best in her recovery.

Since that visit, I have thought of them often. Every time I’d go to New Jersey to put gas in my car, I would drive by Alchemy, wishing I’d gone at a time when the store was open.

Over the past week or so, both Cleo and Barry started popping into my thoughts on a much more frequent basis. I felt a twinge that I didn’t want to admit. And I kept thinking I needed to physically stop in and bring them something, some token to remind them that they really were in my thoughts – that I hadn’t just mouthed the words while at the store to shop.

The urge grew insistent this week. Indeed, yesterday I became a bit aggravated with the way my life became dictated by others’ demands, because I’d really thought I was going to get over to check in with Barry that day.

Finally, today, in spite of the pouring rain and dismal, 37 degree chill in the air, I made a point of getting myself to Frenchtown. With a few small gifts (I figured some delectable chocolate from Pierre’s in New Hope could bring a smile) and a card, I entered the store. I saw Barry in the back of the store, and went directly to him. I re-introduced myself, assuming he wouldn’t necessarily remember me from a few weeks earlier. But I also immediately launched into asking after Cleo’s condition.

Unexpected Diagnosis

His face said it all. I gasped, and whispered, “She didn’t pass away, did she?” No, she hadn’t, admitted Barry. But just last night he’d received word of a devastating – and completely unexpected – diagnosis.

All I could do was hug him. And hug him some more.

The whole time I’ve known Cleo and Barry, they’ve been a unit. Best friends. The love and chemistry has always been palpable.

Barry and Cleo will know more of what to expect in the days to come. I promised I would check in on them next week. In the meantime, Barry is faced with some profound and life-altering decisions regarding many things, not least being the fate of Cleo’s beloved Alchemy.

Facing the Future – How You Can Help

My point in writing this post today is this: If you have the need for an amazing outfit, ranging from something for the most elegant soiree to an evening at home (think New Year’s Eve!), please stop by Alchemy. He needs to move their inventory. I believe there is a 30% storewide discount, as well.

This is a win-win situation: you will find something cool that no one else will be wearing (and everyone will enviously notice and comment upon) and you will be helping out a wonderful pair of lovely human beings who are facing huge and terrifying transformation in every area of their lives.

There are many items there that would also make great gifts.

If you have the means, I urge you: Show a little love to this sweet, creative couple. Let them know we are a village – and connected in perhaps the most miraculous ways.

Alchemy Clothing – 17 Bridge Street – Frenchtown, NJ – 08825

(T-1072)

Indulgence – Day Twenty Seven

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 7 Comments

 

Indulgence

It seems I struck a chord with my post on evening silence last night.

Why is it that so many of us find it difficult to give ourselves permission to indulge in those experiences that make us feel wistful when we contemplate them? And why do we consider engaging in those experiences indulgent?

When I started writing this post, I was surprised by how I almost feel naughty when imagining myself basking in evening silence, giving myself all the time I desire to immerse myself in another world for a while or write in my journal. And I could almost hear that same tinge-of-guilt-yearning in many of the comments I read to yesterday’s musing.

What is it about indulgence? Does it mean to give ourselves permission to do something risqué?

Nope!

According to the World Book Dictionary, to ‘indulge’ means: v. to give way to one’s pleasure (in); let oneself have use, or do what one wants; to give in to the wishes or whims of; humor.

Why Do We Make Ourselves Wrong?

I find it fascinating that my knee-jerk reaction to ‘letting myself do what I want’ – particularly something as nurturing as disconnecting from the chaos of the outside world – is something that provokes a vague sense being flighty or irresponsible or, as I said above, slightly naughty.

It’s weird.

Why is the idea of spending our time in ways that bring smiles to our hearts and joy to our eyes considered humoring ourselves?

When I let myself ‘go deep’ and really think about how much time any of us have in a particular lifetime, and how I actually spend my time, I can quickly lapse into a state of pre-melancholy if I’m not careful. There are a lot of things I do mindlessly. A lot of activities that I only do because, ugh – I hate to admit it – ‘everyone else does.’

Start Indulging In the Good Stuff NOW

I do not want to get to the end of my life and wish I’d indulged myself more often.

Because why the hell shouldn’t I indulge myself now? And why shouldn’t you? My indulgences are not of the sort that hurt anyone else. They don’t even harm either my own body or soul, as one might argue excessive drinking or debauchery (what a great word, that) might. While I do not know what your indulgences might entail, I imagine many are of a sweet, creative nature.

Permitting yourself to write those poems. Giving yourself an uncluttered space to paint. Shoving the couch to the side of the room and allowing yourself to dance. Allowing yourself to listen to the wind and play that haunting tune you hear on your acoustic guitar.

I feel a revolution coming on. A revolution of indulgence.

What secret yearning do you hold within that calls for you to humor today? Join me.

(T-1084)