Crossroads

This summer I feel like I've been unusually quiet here on my blog, and not for lack of things to write about. No, there have been lots of adventures to write about, but probably more quiet times than I can remember in quite a while too. More times where I've felt that I needed to be more the hermit than the extrovert, more times where I have needed to simply sit and digest.
In fact, after leaving our life in NYC, leaving our whole life there and moving here, I think that one of the hardest things for me to get used to was the quiet. Once we settled in at the beginning of this summer, I don't think our home phone rang for months. Almost everyone that we knew, or could run into, lived far away, and so began a long summer of learning how to live in Charleston. It has been fantastic in so many ways, Frank has loved this new beginning, the kids have been thrilled to make new friends, and I have been drinking in the natural beauty and sunshine that we are surrounded by here in our new life.
The hardest thing for me is just feeling so constantly "out of my skin", I keep looking for a comfortable place, like a dog turning around and around to find the perfect spot to settle in.

And suddenly, without warning, I feel like I am at a bit of a crossroads. I can't even pinpoint the day but recently I noticed that I no longer feel so uncomfortable. Inside I feel myself relaxing, places that were tense are easing up.

All summer long I have taken a break from making my work, in past times of great stress I know that I have been unable to paint, so I knew that would happen this time as well. I prepared myself for this break. During my flurry of new paintings this spring and as I was packing up my studio I wondered how long the break would be. We moved and then settled into this time of integration. All summer I've felt myself processing, integrating the new and old, the leaving and the meeting, opening up and debriefing in a beautiful stillness. All while looking forward to beginning to work again, and finally, yes finally, I feel my creative process slowly coming on again.....I've begun envisioning paintings, ideas are germinating. I can't tell you how good it feels!

During this summer of stillness Danielle LaPorte's post on productive rest came at the perfect resonant time for me. The quiet, in between, times are still ones that I struggle with, but after this summer I feel more familiar with those places inside myself, more able to sit and be calm with them.

The hearts of flowers

While I really like to keep this space about the most positive, inspiring, parts of my life I also do always write here with an honesty that I appreciate from others. The affirmation, connection and respect that I have felt for others who share openly, even about difficult topics, on their blogs shows a level of bravery. I believe that this bravery builds connection as we learn that each one of us is not alone, that each one of us in sharing our experiences become more alike than different. It is in this spirit that I want to share something difficult with you here.

This past Tuesday we got the news that a friend of ours died in an accident. This is a friend of ours from our church, a man who is our age, and a husband and a father. I am friends with his wife and I was present at the birth of their daughter as their labor support Doula.

The first few days I was hardly able to think about it, it was easy to stay busy with the kids and push thoughts out of my mind, and then slowly, the reality stared to sneak in. Now, the kids and I are at my parent's home in Philadelphia for a week so I have stepped out of my normal home routine and into a space where I can not and do not want to hide from my thoughts any longer.

One of the things that hits me the most about the loss of this friend is that I experienced one of life's great joys with him, the birth of his daughter. His wife's labor was a long one, and he and I worked as a team supporting her through those long hours. I saw how deeply he cared for her as he patiently and gently massaged her back through each contraction, and I saw the worry and the consternation on his face as he watched her struggling with her labor. We helped each other through that long labor and I watched him be strong for her even when there was fear on his face at times, until finally his wife brought his little daughter into the world. I was standing across from him as the baby emerged and I so clearly remember looking over at him and seeing his eyes glassy with tears and his face absolutely radiant with awe and wonder at seeing his child for the first time.

The stunning glory of that moment.

That is what I am remembering.

This afternoon I was able to finally have some alone time, to wander through my Mother's lush garden where I lost myself in simply taking pictures of her flowers. Somehow that was the best, most soothing thing that I could do. I took pictures of the center, the heart of the flower, using the camera to probe.

Grief is so hard, mysterious, and it feels wide. I have grieved before, and each time I feel that when I start to grieve I am coming back to the same place. The same feelings. The same questions. The same fears. But each time it is different too, each layer of learning is there already, each lesson that came before is like a marker. And yet, even though it feels familiar it feels so rough, so raw.

So that is where I am right now my friends. I am looking into the heart of it.

The heart of it.

Those days

I'm afraid that I'm having one of those days. You know the ones, where your head feels foggy and your thoughts seem all crossed, you can't figure out which project to start first and everything just seems muddled. Perhaps it is because Carys woke up at 4:30AM? Or maybe it was those scary dreams that I had last night? Could it be because we are getting ready to travel tomorrow?

I'd say all of the above.

Days like this make me feel like I'm trapped inside a bubble, bouncing against the walls, feeling frustrated that I can't do more or be more.

It is on days like this that I need to be really gentle with myself.

The way that I feel is reminding me of the butterflies in this new drawing, flitting around. Then there is that one dripping with color, she knows what's up! She knows that even on those days there is power. She can still choose to be in the moment. She can still choose to live boldly. Yes, even on those days.

Never a Dull Moment

never a dull moment, originally uploaded by cathy cullis.

This weekend was full of life for us, house guests with a new baby visiting from across the country, our block's second (and final) block party of the year, friend's birthday parties, and then yesterday Jasper's long awaited follow-up visit with his ear doctor.
I don't like visiting doctors myself, I prefer "self healing" through diet, acupuncture, etc.. and until now I have not minded taking my kids to their fabulous pediatrician. Then last spring, after Jasper's 4th ear infection and a set of burst ear drums, our pediatrician suggested that we visit a pediatric ear specialist. This led us to yesterday, our follow-up visit, at which the specialist told us that Jasper needs tubes put in his ears to relieve the pressure that is building up, he suggested that we schedule the procedure as soon as possible for Friday. Three days from now.

No matter how many people, the doctor included, tell me that this is a minor and very common procedure, all I can keep thinking is, "My child is having surgery on Friday."
I'm keeping a very strong front for Jasper, he is showing no signs of concern or worry and I am being very careful not to show my own worry about this in front of him.

The strange thing is, I know why this is hitting me so hard....
I had tubes put in my ears when I was 5, and I remember it as a traumatic, scary experience, and probably the start of why I don't like going to doctors.

When I had children I did not realize all of the things that I would learn about myself through them, especially through this cyclical nature of life. For me, watching my children grow and change has often been like looking in a mirror. With this particular situation I see the redemptive opportunity in which I can help Jasper to have a better experience than I did, and hopefully to not have this be something that he will still be struggling with 30 years from now! That doesn't mean that I'll have an easy three days until the procedure but I am thankful that at least I did not have to dread this all summer long, and really after Friday, once the tubes are in, then his ears will be able to start healing.

And isn't healing what this is all about?

Strength and Beauty Surround You

Strength and Beauty Surround You

All summer long I have been incredibly excited about an idea for a new series of paintings that has been swimming around in my head and spilling out into my notebooks. I have been thinking of them as my Affirmation Series, each piece will be based on and illustrate an affirmation that I have created and that I think people could use more of in their lives...myself especially.

Today I began painting this new series and decided to start with the idea that Strength and Beauty Surround You, partly because I was so excited about using this strong deer silhouette and wanted to see where I would go with it. The image above is of the work in progress after my studio time today.

I am very excited about sending these affirmations out into the world and sharing them with you here. I am thinking that I will be able to do about 1 a week, so that will become one of my weekly features here! Yeah! This direction feels very good to me.

My critics seem to like where it is going too.