This is the week in the program we are warned not to give up...on our recovery or our dreams. Which is ironic, since this is the only week I have thought about quitting the book and all the work it entails. Sometimes, this journey has been difficult. It takes a real time commitment. It is hard to do so much self examination. Sometimes it hurts.
But, I will not give up now.
I thought this journey would result in my painting again. It has not. I spent one afternoon doodling with watercolor and called it an artist date. I enjoyed the moment, but seem to have so many other things to do that are "more important". I feel like I need a plan to paint and I don't have one. I could just pull out my watercolors and play, but I don't. How do I know if painting is worth my time? There is no magic eight ball to tell me yes, give it a shot or no, not today.
Maybe we should do art just because we enjoy it and not worry about the rest.
I thought I would be writing more - and not just in my morning pages. Instead, I find myself falling victim to the numbers. Fewer and fewer people read my blog pages so I must not be a very good writer. Therefore, I write less and less. My inner critic loves this logic. It ignores the fact that I post at odd times so most people have no idea I wrote a new blog. It ignores the fact that this topic may have limited interest for my readers. It ignores the fact that my friends say they enjoy reading my posts. It ignores the fact that in order to be a writer one must write and write and write. Good or bad.
Fear of failure is a powerful deterrent.
The one thing I have done, which came totally out of the blue for me, is learn to play ukulele. I find myself eagerly practicing most nights. The time just flies by. I am not very good yet. I only know a few cords, no real strumming patterns, look at my hands a lot and have a hard time singing while playing. But, I am hopeful. YouTube is a wonderful teacher and provides tremendous encouragement to a beginner.
I want to learn to sing and accompany myself, a dream I gave up on long ago.
When I was young, my parents gave me an electric keyboard one Christmas. I learned to play on my own and could plunk out a few one finger songs by ear. We could not afford actual lessons. I had a friend who played piano and she taught me the melody on a simple duet. It was fun. And I liked to sing. I was in choir at church and in school. My friends and family thought I sang well, but what did they know? The "professional", my high school choir teacher, never gave me any encouragement and I figured he knew best. Now, I am learning he was just one of many opinions. He was not an expert, despite being an authority figure.
So, here I am back to my dreams of singing and performing and writing and painting.
Only this time, I am old enough, wise enough and have the resources to pursue my dreams as an adult. I am learning an instrument. I have a blog to write in. I have the supplies to paint. I have friends who are musicians, artists and writers. They support me on these renewed interests I am unearthing.
So this week, I am not quitting.
I am not letting my fears get the best of me. I will push my little artist, kicking and screaming, into a world where it it good to pursue artistic dreams. And I will try to have more fun, allowing myself the grace to make mistakes, the freedom to be silly and the time to experiment.
I am letting myself be creative.
