I had hoped to be able to post this yesterday, but I did not get home until almost 4:00 p.m. and, frankly, I was post-retreat beat. It is challenging for me to make the transition between the retreat setting and regular life at home. It is a 20 minute drive between worlds. A mere fifteen if I don't get caught at the lights on S.R. 32. (I prayed for red lights on S.R. 32.)
Each retreat has its activity and this time, aside from yoga, we made vision boards. I've heard the endorsements and admired the vision boards created by those I truly admire, but I have never mustered the courage to make one for myself. Shouldn't be a big deal, right? Right. If you don't have perfectionist leanings like me. It turned out to be a project that brought out (and up) the little shit in me.
Very begrudgingly, I cut things out of magazines sans the giddy enthusiasm of my retreat mates. Random, who cares, this and that. Whatever caught my eye. No plan whatsoever. So over it before I even started. (I should have known I was onto something good.)
When it came time to arrange and glue the pieces down, my transformation to recalcitrant child was complete. I convinced myself that I should take everything home and deal with it later. (In RC-speak, later = never) I crack me up! Wasn't I the one who just wrote "the only way through it is through it"? Yes, that would be me.
The only remedy for recalcitrance is coaxing. Gentle coaxing. So I cooed myself through gluing down one picture. I promised I could see how I felt from there. This temple with the prayer flags. What does it mean? Whatever. Put it there on the left. Hey, Earth did not shift on its axis. I did not spew pea soup. Good. Okay, what next? Hmm. Guess this might be my idea of a dream bedroom. Or I just want a good night's sleep this year. Fine. So be it. Right there. On the right. At the top.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
This was the perfect project to lead me into Day 1 of Camp Magic Beans. A creative enema, thank you. Confirmation that I am on the right track ... but also proof that my resistant probably won't go down without a dirty fight. This will require commitment and diligence. A sense of humor will help immensely.
So after much inner debate, I have concluded that aiming for a certain number of completed projects won't (necessarily) work for me. Not yet. As I've said before, this is primarily about showing up. Once I can do that easily and regularly, I can raise the bar and kick the expectations up a bit. For now, all I ask (coax and coo) is that I show up. For every facet. Every day.
So what does that look like?
If you have cruised around Jakk's Magic Beans Workshop, you have discovered that it encompasses a number of facets. Creations and services that mean a lot to me ... in the doing of them and in the sharing, too. There are the I-AMulets, Reiki, feng shui, my Jakkoupage, the mandalas, etc. In other words, a lot. Now I certainly don't expect myself to DO all of them everyday, but I can certainly check in and at least acknowledge, if not take, the next logical step for each facet. Maybe the next logical step is to make that creation or provide that service, but it might also look like ordering supplies, updating the shop(s), or making progress on an idea.
Here is the point. If I don't make a point, better yet, a literal apPOINTment, to check in, a facet can languish for months ... and that is a shame. Letting something that I love wither from lack of attention is a crying shame.
Which is the perfect segue to the million dollar question. How can I ever find enough time to check in on every facet without my beloved family withering from lack of attention? And what about self-care luxuries like peeing and sleep? There are only so many hours to each day and a good number of them were called dibs by my full-time job. This worry weighs heavy on my mind. Trust me. But I have to trust that if I am called to do it, I will be given the resources, including the gorgeous resource of TIME, to do it. So, if anything, these next nine weeks are an experiment in trust. Trust in myself. And trust in Blooming Ha-Ha. (Thank you, Rob Brezny.)
On top of the showing up and checking in, I ask of myself these three things. First, to the best of my ability, raw until dinner. (It's for my own good, said in the tone of a fairy godmother rather than a wicked witch.) Second, again, to the best of my ability, sit, breathe and count to 100. At least once each day. (See, I don't even have to call it that M word.) Third, a walk after dinner. Not necessarily a long walk, but some measure of movement outside of the house which will require shoes and contact with the forces of nature.
I'll say it again because it is well worth repeating and applies across the board to all of it. To the best of my ability. If I have to bitch my way into it, then so be it. Amen.