Wandering + other things I have no words for …

17 blank journal

Sunday mornings I glide from sleep into journal mode. Today I noticed a common thread {sharp and jagged}: this is the third consecutive week I have awaken with a sense of overwhelm + the need to drain {vomit} it via hand-written entries upon the pages of what has become My Sunday Journal.

It has become that by practice: once a week; a time of hand-written journaling — followed by a freestyle listing of dreams, ideas-to-execute, to-be’s and to-do’s.

17 journal cover

It is the foundation for my week. A portal allowing me to pass through to my Next. A way of shedding the skin of the previous week’s realities, growth and discoveries. A way of writing my story; remembering and marking mile markers of my journey.

Especially useful when I begin to confuse my wandering with being lost.

Because I have decided to surrender to wandering and other things I have no words forI decided today is Day One … that my story needs some editing — and more color and collage.

17 I write my own story

The amateur tweets. The pro works. ~Steven Pressfield

For a month, I have steadily moved off the track that proved best for my “look! a shiny thing!” mind: be “disconnected” in the morning. Pain invited my distraction and switched the track of single-minded-focus to doing whatever served to keep my mind wrapped in anything other than high levels of pain and immobility.

However, my plan was to allow art-making to be my “distraction” and focus. This becomes limited by the detour which occurred in creating space {time, physical space, mental white space} to art-making due to the MS stuff.

17 cycle of art making

Cue self-loathing …

Fortunately, I remembered Julie’s post from last week; and clicked back through to this video with Jonathan Fields — resulting in immediate relief due to pulsing feelings being soothed by Truth. I even wrote about this last week:

Each of us live a life few know about. We have our reasons. And … everybody doesn’t need to know every thing. [link] But resisting the self-loathing — daring to love ourselves as we are is where we begin to co-exist with the angst of our {one wild and precious} life.

Love is more than its romance
it is letting go.
Accepting who you are —
as you are — now.
Trusting that you are {enough}
regardless of how you feel.

It is not new for me to know overwhelm is the result of  facing fear-based challenges and dancing wildly outside of one’s comfort zone; each of us knows that … We simply need to hear a “me, too” — our cue to put the proverbial oxygen mask on before going “higher” and through momentary turbulence.

Change your story, change your life.

Latest edit: I’m done with bright and shiny.

There are numerous reasons I freely shed the skins of “I am fine.” and “It’s not that bad.” … And it has taken years for me to admit to myself that pain is not fine, and it is that bad. I don’t have words to describe all of that, but basically … I’m done with bright and shiny.

The practice of being specific, asking different questions with regard to accomplishing my dreams {and the scenarios that cue self-loathing} is liberating me from the paralyzing effects of the cycles of my life.

Art journaling and sharing my pages online and selling prints of my art are a few of the answers to these questions.

I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way – things I had no words for. ~Georgia O’Keeffe

17 handwritten journal page

The overwhelm is rooted in the growing list of uncompleted tasks {detailed on the bundle of cards stacked on my desk}; it is wrapped in the realities of MS fatigue and disrupted schedules due to pain. The weight of what was not accomplished in the prior week, and words like “always” and “never” I imagined stamped {in red, bold fonts} over my art-full lists — with regard to “incomplete” and “completed,” respectively.

{writing is like breathing for me}

Exposing the good, the bad and the ugly of my right brain planning is life for me. Moving through the narrow way of vulnerability wipes me clean of the shame …

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. ~Annie Dillard

17 decide and act

So, today is Day One; I will not resist things I have no words for. I will assess; I will do one thing {as many times as I am able}; I will not be bright and shiny. I will resist the urge to believe my posts all read the same or that what I am living {being; without marked progress} has no value.

What needs to be assessed in your life?
What will you decide, Braveheart?
How is today Day One for you?


vintage 150x150
.: I am a self-taught art-planner who documents my life with images, collages and doodles in my various art journals, both digital and tangible. This includes morning views and weekly planning cards as well as Tumblr for My Star Garden and my Right Brain Plan. You may also find me on TwitterFacebookFlickr or Instagram. ~stargardener ★


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