Silencing the Toad

I don't know what's up, but the last couple of weeks I've been fighting off some feelings of discouragement.  Now, don't be alarmed.  Thankfully, it's been over a year now since I got my meds adjusted and was able to leave a 2 year depression behind.  I'm not depressed like that (and so thankful!)  But, sometimes, every once in a while, despite how ridiculously BLESSED I am, I get a little discouraged.

I have dreams.  I think most people have dreams.  Some people are actively living theirs, others are working toward them, some are just aware, and a few may not even know of them.  But they are there.  Dreams are there, buried deep, deep in the innermost tiny back closet of one's heart.  They may be locked so tightly and bound with the strongest chains, but they DO exist.  To dream is to be human.  If not for hoping for something better for ourselves, our families, our world, then there would be little point in existence.

Garelito Photos

So, even though I used to actively try NOT to dream (it was too disappointing to do so), over the last several years I've allowed myself to believe a little bit again.  Bullied by life's rough school of knocks, I learned to armor myself against the hurt of failure, disappointment, and loss.  I didn't have the tools to handle these feelings that seemed an ever-present reality.  But now, now I've grown some.  I have a loving and kind husband who teaches me that there IS a reason to hold out hope - despite whatever odds one may feel she is facing.  I have been blessed with kind and caring friends who have helped open my heart to art, and in doing so have inadvertently opened a door of vulnerability and rawness - both of which are necessary (in my humble opinion) to live creatively.   Now, though I still struggle and am far from where I'd like to be, I have more coping skills for dealing with those failures, disappointments, and losses.  Part of living a creative life (though admittedly, only part time), means learning to love the beauty in nearly everything; learning to accept flaws as part of the completed project, and having joy in the creation rather than just the finished product.  That doesn't apply to just art itself, but the very essence of living.  I have learned to be a little more gentle with myself, to accept my weaknesses.  No, not just accept them -but almost embrace them - for they make me who I am, for better or worse.

All that being said, I've still been fighting off discouragement.  I feel alone in so many ways.  I want to have a child(ren) someday.  I'm 38 and I may not get to.  I may even get too old to adopt a child.  And, even if I did/do, I'm going to be in SUCH a different place than my peers.  Most people my age have children in at least their teens, and some even entering college this year.  I haven't even begun.  If I adopt by the time I'm 40, I'll be nearly 60 by the time that child is graduating high school.  Imagine a 50 year old at "Mom's Club" with a bunch of early twenty to thirty year-olds.  I'm going to be the oddball, just as I am now.

Bernadette Darnell

I feel alone because most of my friends have families that take up the majority of their time.  I understand and heartily agree that family comes first.  But, at the same time, I often feel like they are too busy with their lives to have time for me.  I love my husband, but he is quite the introvert and I often seek outside friendships to help fill the conversational void.  Besides, even the best husband can't do what a good girlfriend or two can.  It's a special bond that women share.

Because I am outgoing (more extroverted by nature), I tend to be the one to invite others and get the ball rolling.  I'm the planner, the organizer.  I get it.  If you're introverted, planning a get-together is akin to getting a tooth pulled.  I try to remember that.  But sometimes, especially lately for some reason, I just want someone else to put forth the effort.  I don't want to be the one who always initiates things.  I want to feel like others want to have ME in THEIR lives.  But again, because my dreams are slow to fruition, I'm in a different place than them, and I can't fault them their busy-ness.  I would likely be the same, if I were a mother.

Bernadette Darnell

So, that's where I am.  I'm backwards from my peers.  It gets lonely sometimes.  Discouragement knocks.  But, I must use the tools I've tried to develop to fight back - to remember that I DO matter, if to no one else, at least to my husband.  I know it'll get better.  It's just a temporary feeling.  My happiness and zest will come back to me soon.  I'm HOPING, anyway.  Because, that's who I am now - I'm a person who hopes and dreams.  I have unlocked my heart and I will push away the doubts and fears and keep trying to live a creative life, complete with blemishes, mess-ups, re-dos.  One day my life's work may be the beautiful piece I envision it can be.

p.s.  To those who read my blog - this is not an attempt to garner sympathy or "Oh, but we do love you"s.  The blogging is for me to be REAL and PRESENT.  It's for me - part of MY way of living a creative life.

Stubby Little Pencil

I've been a busy little bee! Seems like "stuff" just piles up so quickly. I can't imagine how people with full-time careers AND children manage to get so much done. I've always marvelled at the capacity some women seem to have to do EVERYTHING! A few years ago, I came to the sad, but true, conclusion that I simply am not one of those women. I am so limited by my own personal challenges and handicaps, that at times I can be overwhelmed to the point of paralyzation.

Though I don't always remember the lesson as well as I would like, I often reflect on a principle I learned several years ago by reading a book by a Japanese-American woman I greatly admire, Cheiko Okazaki. I've always loved her writings, as hers is the elegant, yet rare voice of both brutal honesty and enthusiastic optimism. In one of her addresses to the women in church, Cheiko talks about her years growing up as a Japanese woman in a primarily Caucasion society, where she often felt like she didn't quite fit. She explains that as she grew, and came to understand her purpose in life, she became a champion for differences!



She said, "...look around...Do you see women of different ages, races, or different backgrounds...Of different educational, marital, and professional experiences? Women with children? Women without children? Women of vigorous health and those who are limited by chronic illness or handicaps? Rejoice in the diversity of our sisterhood! It is the diversity of colors in a spectrum that makes a rainbow."

by Marcia Diane

She further explained that no matter what our specific individual circumstances, we can each have a profound impact on the lives of those around us. She explains, "Do not feel that your gift is insignificant. Mother Teresa says, 'I’m a little pencil in the hands of God. He does the thinking. He does the writing. He does everything—and it’s really hard-—sometimes it’s a broken pencil. He has to sharpen it a little more. But be a little instrument in His hands so that He can use you anytime, anywhere. We have only to say Yes to Him'.”

When I am feeling a bit discouraged because I can't seem to accomplish all the things I set out to do (or rarely even half of them), I try to remember Cheiko's (and Mother Teresa's) wisdom. I envision myself as a pencil...albeit a fat, stubby, chewed on, worn-down eraserless pencil. I try to remind myself that I don't have to be perfect to do something. I can give a part of me. All I need do is say YES.

Whether or not one shares my Christian philosophy is irrelevant. While I personally believe that while in God's service, He will magnify us to be more capable than we would normally be, the principle is equally true for nonbelievers. Whether we are saying "YES" to God or simply "YES" to ourselves, we become stronger in the act of doing. Instead of holding back our gifts (creativity) because we fear they may not be good enough, or well-received, or whatever the case may be; instead, we must move forward with courage. We have to trust that our best efforts WILL matter. We will believe that our unique gifts DO make a difference in our own lives and in the lives of others. We commit ourselves to sharing our gifts, talents, or simple acts of service. We have faith (or even the tiniest bit of hope) that in so doing, we will be filled with personal purpose. The spectrum of our collective rainbow will shine brighter, bringing joy to those within its arching reach.