The online definition of Desire is:

de·sire

For a year and a half, before I did anything else in the morning, I would write my Miracle Practice list and send it off to the two friends in my circle. And every morning, they would do the same. We were consistent, committed, connected.

And it worked.

In making space for the irritants, in letting them flow instead of stopping them up behind a wall of denial, miracles shimmered all around.

These were no small miracles. They were the big ones. Like forgiveness and gratitude. Acceptance and Love.

For me, one of the biggest ones centered around my feelings of betrayal that kept surfacing when I thought about a situation I’d left earlier that year. The story I told myself about what had happened held me in a victim’s place. It kept me stuck in hurt, sadness, confusion and it kept me me from being accountable for my own experience.

Yes.  Things happened that did not sit well with me. And yes, it didn’t go the way I wanted — but it did go the way I allowed. Because regardless of what I judged others to be doing that was in my opinion mis-guided, manipulative, small, I was not playing my big story. I was not acting up to my higher good. I was giving in to my fears and ego. I was letting myself off the hook of being 100% accountable for my experience.

That was the gift of the Miracle Practice. In writing out my angst with the opening line, “I am grateful today for….”, in being honest with my victim’s voice, I moved through the dismay and pain and the story I kept telling about how I was ‘wronged’ to that place where acceptance shone loud and clear — it wasn’t about me. It wasn’t a personal statement of my worth. And today, it was, and always will be, what it is. The past.

And I get to tell the story of my past. And most importantly, I get to decide how it impacts me today.

I used to have a story around my birth that held me in a place of feeling ‘unwanted’. As the story goes, my father lost a case of beer and $20 because I was a girl. My mother wanted me born on Dec 8 not Dec 9 — because the 8th is the Day of the Immaculate Conception and I was a real disappointment being born 2 minutes after midnight.

That story got me lots of laughs, but it also caused me pain. Inside. Deep inside where no one could see it except me. I could feel it. And while I could feel the sadness inside, I couldn’t see how the emotional triggers of that story kept sparking off my belief in my unworthiness and deep, deep belief that I was always a disappointment to my parents – and thus to the world.

And then, one day (I actually did this exercise sitting by a lake on a beautiful spring day, long before I read Melody Beattie’s book Make Miracles in Forty Days) I decided to write my gratitude statement around that story.

I am grateful today for the story I keep telling around what a disappointment I am in the world. It hurts and bothers me that I feel deep within me this sense of sadness. It’s funny though. I’m the one carrying this story. I’m the one telling it, which means, I’m the one letting it eat away at my peace of mind. What if I change the story? What if I let go of the emotional triggers. What if the story is true — but it doesn’t mean any of the things I tell myself it means. Maybe my dad really did want another son but in getting me, he fell in love with the little girl who made him laugh and smile and who wanted to be the sunshine. maybe my mom really did want me to born on the Day of the Immaculate Conception — but in the end it didn’t matter because I was born when I was born. And maybe, whether the story is true or not, what is true is that I am loved. I am cherished. I am wanted on this journey. Maybe, I’m the one holding myself pinnioned to the pain of the past in the telling of that story. maybe, I am the one investing the story with what hurts me, instead of what supports and loves and lifts me up. Maybe, the story doesn’t matter — it is kind of funny — and maybe, what does matter is that I want me. I need me. I cherish and love and support and know that my life is a miracle because I am a miracle of life.

And here’s the deal, in telling the story as it is, in accepting it as simply that — a story I tell on myself — the pain lifted and I could feel the miracle of who I am in the world infusing my heart with warm, tender loving care.

In falling into gratitude with my discord around this story, I got to quit being afraid of who I am, as well as the underlying sorrow the story evoked.

I began to feel at peace within me.

It was a miracle.

And still is.

everyday.

this place of knowing, wow, my life and who I am in it is all that I am meant to be when I accept and love all of me and everything in my world. When I move with gratitude through the ups and the downs, the good and the not so good, the big and the small happenings, the things that hold me back from living the life of my dreams…. evaporate… into the limitless possibility of what can happen when I set myself free to soar through all kinds of weather.

Namaste.

Wakefulness stirred my mind turning my thoughts to my gratitude list as my body prepared to arise from its place of rest. Thoughts of yesterday, of the gifts, the joys and also the trials and tribulations floated through my mind, reminding me to be grateful for all that I have received, experienced and known. Not just the censored version of my list, but the complete and unabridged version. The one where I am thankful for the missteps as well as the leaps. The one where I find value in the upsets and not just the set ups that went right.

In her book, Make Miracles in Forty Days, Melody Beattie shares “The Miracles Exercise” as a path to finding and receiving what you want in what you’ve got in life. Her prescription to be grateful for the not so happy circumstances that block you from feeling gratitude is a sure-fire way to release resentments, bitterness, anger, unforgiveness and hatred from your life to welcome in what you want to receive. “When Life gives us something, receiving it becomes the lesson,” she writes. “Whatever Life gives us is ours.”

Which got me to thinking about, what did I not want to receive yesterday. Well, there’s  that conversation with the woman at the parking payment machine yesterday morning. Let me start by saying… Parking in our city is expensive!  Why, just yesterday as I parked in the lot where I normally park a woman walked up and asked, “How much is this lot for the day?”  “Fourteen dollars,” I informed her. “What? that’s robbery,” she said and she went on to vent for a few moments about the cost of parking downtown — especially in a lot that is at the far western edge of the downtown core. “Why I could park a few blocks over and pay the same thing. Who do they think they are to charge so much? I only park here for the walk. It’s good for me.”

And I found myself buying into her ire. Gravitating towards her negativity as I let go of my desire to enter my day with grace and ease.

It’s so easy, to lose sight of grace and ease when faced with something as mundane, yet irritating, as paying for parking. And in the act of succumbing to the negative, I fill my world with all the things I don’t want. I collude in my own unease.

What’s with that?

According to Melody Beattie, it’s all about finding value in all things. “Whatever life gives us is ours.”

So… is parking ire mine?

What if I don’t want it?

Time to practice the Miracle Exercise.

I am grateful for expensive parking.

Hmmm…. that’s judgemental. The parking fees are a fact. They are what they are.

Dig deeper.

Well, there is the matter of that parking ticket I got in the mail yesterday. I definitely didn’t want to receive it. And here’s the challenge, it’s the second parking ticket I’ve received in the past two weeks — which means I am not only paying $14 a day for my parking — on the days when I parked at a meter, I’m now over-paying, especially if I don’t pay the fine within the subscribed period of time — the price doubles and then triples! So what’s it really about? Seriously. what’s that all about.

I reach inside my gratitude bucket and begin to write it out.

I am grateful today for the parking ticket I received in the mail. It ticks me off that the new system doesn’t allow me to know when I get the ticket in the moment. It means the ticket will arrive in the mail days later and I’ll have to relive the anxiety I felt when I forgot to plug my meter days before. Not remembering to plug the meter is a habit that disrupts my peace of mind. Maybe it’s really about sticking to my commitment to use public transit more. Maybe the fact there is street parking available is something to be grateful for, and not take so lightly I forget to plug it, or maybe the truth is it’s a wilful ignoring of the rules for me. In my wilful ignoring I am acting out in small ways that disrupt my peace of mind. I get to choose how I do the small things in my day — how I do one thing is how I do all things. Remembering to plug my meter is a small act of defiance that does not become me. I don’t need it.

I am grateful today for this reminder to do all things in my life with integrity. Thank you ticket giver for reminding me of the need to walk with integrity in all ways.

“Learning to accept, receive, appreciate, and enjoy what we create and what we’re given is like any other lesson: until we learn it, it won’t stop.” (pg 7. Melody Beattie. Make Miracles in Forty Days)

I am 100% accountable for what I allow, promote and create in my life.

In allowing myself to be irritated by parking fees, and then, not following the rules, I am promoting discord in my day and creating angst. — not to mention a seeping away of financial resources to a cause I have no desire to support!  Parking tickets.

To live with integrity means I must do the right thing — no matter the cost. And in this case, not doing the right thing is costing me a lot of unncessary cash, and ire.

It is my choice to create harmony in my world, in all things, in all ways. Doing things that promote discord does not serve me, or my world.

I choose to be aligned with my higher calling. I choose to embrace harmony and let go of what I don’t want.

Okay.

My day is brighter now.

Thanks for listening! thanks for being part of my journey. I am grateful for your presence.

namaste.

*************************************

The Miracle Exercise is well worth the ten minutes a day it takes to create your list. I’ll write more about it tomorrow.  Until then —  Be a light in the world. Shine Bright!

I almost dropped my mug of coffee as I was taking a sip this morning.

I was reading my morning, A Note from the Universe, when a laugh erupted from my belly, causing the almost coffee incident. Which would not have been pretty. My mug was poised over my laptop keyboard. It would have made a mess.

But seriously, after years of searching and looking and seeking and defining and refining and clarifying my purpose statement, to read the message the Universe has for me  this morning was quite funny.

Louise, here’s a hint on figuring out your life’s purpose:

It almost never lies behind the door marked, “Just be logical.”

Tallyho,
The Universe

P.S. Louise, just busy yourself doing what you most want, among the choices now before you, and before long your life’s purpose will find you.

What?  My purpose will find me? I don’t have to find it?

Ha! What will I do with myself if I’m not purpose driven to be finding my purpose?  How will I find meaning and significance?  How will I know I’m making a difference if I don’t measure everything I do and say against my search for meaning in a purpose driven life?

You want me to just live from my heart and trust my purpose to find me in that place?

What if it gets lost?  What if it doesn’t see what I want it to see as my purpose?

Ooops. There’s that trust thing again. Trust in the process. Trust in Life and Love and Living in the rapture of now.

Which is what made me laugh out loud this morning. (sorry Ellie for waking you from your slumbers on your mat behind my desk. I know you took the long walk from the bedroom when I walked out of the kitchen towards the office with my coffee this morning. A left out the door, a few feet into the office only to collapse onto your mat in here with a disgruntled grunt before falling back to sleep. I know I disturbed you and I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you? Oh, a steak for breakfast. We’ll see — my purpose isn’t to cater to your every need you know. The Universe has bigger plans for me — I’m just trying to figure out what they are…)

Right. So where was I? Oh yeah. Trust in the process. Trust in Life and Love and Living in the rapture of now.

Arrgghhhh!

I have spent my entire life teaching myself to trust in no one but me! Trust in the Universe. Let go of my belief that ‘the process’ of life is complex, complicated, mysterious? You want me to let go and live from my heart and let my purpose find me?

Get real. I have a fortune invested in books that teach me how to ‘find your purpose’, ‘live with intention’, create a life plan — and you’re telling me all I have to do is do what calls my heart, and let the rest just ‘happen’? Because when I live from my heart, when I do the things that call me awake, my purpose will find me where ever I’m at?

That’s it?

It’s that easy?

No. No. No.

It’s gotta be harder than that. It’s gotta be a task. A challenge. An obstacle course of mysterious trials and rituals designed just for me to discover, ‘this is the meaning of my life’.

Dang.

I thought it was supposed to be hard. I thought it was only worthwhile if it was difficult, challenging, nerve-wrackingly tough.

And now you say — just get busy doing what’s in front of me that I really want to do — and leave the rest up to you?

What if you let me down? … What if you screw up?… What if… you don’t turn up?

Yeah! What if you don’t turn up?

I mean, seriously, if I don’t leave directions. If I don’t map it out clearly, marking boundaries and borders, portals and passageways, how will I be sure you’ve found me acting out in the right purpose?

Yes. I hear you.

Trust in the process. Do one of the many things in front of me that calls to me, and trust, my purpose will turn up.

Sigh.

It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.

It wasn’t supposed to be this plain and simple.

Another sigh.

I got the message.

Loud and clear.

Thanks Universe.

Now, where did I put my helmet and pickaxe. I gotta get busy diggin’ up what’s in front of me, right now!

Have a nice day y’all!  🙂

It is a morning, new day, a new week. Opportunities await, shimmering in the light of possibility.

What will you choose?

To stay the course. To stick to the tried and true. To live into your adapted beliefs of what is, or isn’t, possible for you.

What will you choose?

I awoke to these thoughts this morning, my mind stirring out of a deep sleep where I was dreaming.

I was on a boat. Rowing across the water. The vastness of the sky above me, the vastness of the water all around me. I was afraid, but not. I knew if I kept rowing I’d get somewhere. And then, a wave rolled up under me and tossed my boat about and I capsized. Fearing I would drown, I fought the water until I grew so tired I couldn’t swim any longer. “You’ve never tried to breathe under water,” the sky whispered and I dove. and I could breathe under water. And then, I found myself on a distant shore. It was a beautiful island paradise. I was scared to wander through the trees in case the island was inhabited by nasty creatures. And the sky whispered, “You won’t know what’s there until you step away from where you are.”  I wandered into the trees and found myself surrounded by not only the beauty of the forest but also beautiful friendly animals who peeked out from the underbrush or simply walked along beside me — what was most cool was they could all talk and seemed to know what I was thinking because one of them said, “We didn’t want to reveal ourselves until we knew you wouldn’t hurt us.”

and then I awoke.

And I wonder…

What are the walls of my comfort zone made of? My fear of the unknown? My fear of stepping out beyond where I’ve been?

Where does that fear come from and, more importantly, how does it serve me today?

The answer is simple. It doesn’t.

In primordial times, fear of the unknown might have kept me safe from being eaten by sabre tooth tigers hiding in the woods, but, it might also have meant I starved to death.

My fear is learned. As a child, unsure of the world around me, I adapted my behaviours, and my inner beliefs about myself to protect me, to keep me safe, to make sense of the world around me.

The beginning

As an adult, my adapted learnings limit my capacity to explore beyond what my mind knows into what my heart knows to be true and real and authentic in my life today.

I painted yesterday — worked on a painting that has been frustrating me and not pleasing me. I decided to paint over it — I was scared. My first thoughts were — what if I mess it up. what if I ruin it?

Well…. I didn’t particularly like it in the first place. How can I ruin it?

But I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where I want to take it.

Well… what if you let it take you? what if you just trust in the process and let what is being created become visible.

And so, I did.

but not without a lot of resistance. Not without a lot of hemming and hawing and avoiding and pushing back and telling myself I can’t do it. I have no talent. I may as well give up.

All adapted learning. All adapted behaviours.

Swimming beyond fear

And then, a dear friend asked me, (about a totally unrelated but completing related subject) “What are you resisting?”

Yeah. Well.  Me. Resist?

I’m resisting change. I am resisting letting go of my fears and trusting in the process.

Your soul knows what your mind cannot accept, my friend said.

And she was right.

My soul knows I am an artist at heart.

My head wants me to play it safe.

Have a wonderful day.

Namaste.

the Chief Bullhead blanket

I am blanketed in love. Wrapped up in friendship, companionship and care.

Last night, at the AlphaHouse Society AGM, I received a recognition gift for the support I’ve given them over the last year. It was a beautiful and thoughtful gesture, a caring and warm welcome into the friendship of the Society that supports individuals impacted by addictions and homelessness. 90% of AlphaHouse’s clients are first nations. 100% have addictions. And, as Joshua, a staff member who spoke at the beginning of the evening said, ‘every one of them is our teacher.’ And in that teaching, they see their clients as leaders. They lead their own journey, they shine a light on their own path and teach the staff and volunteers at Alpha House how to help, support, care and add their light so they can see their way better.

It is what I find so incredibly inspiring about Kathy Christiansen and her team at AlphaHouse. They do not enter into a relationship with one of their clients believing they know what the individual needs or what has to happen for that person to ‘get their act together’. They step into every relationship looking for opportunities for the other person to guide them. They manifest the 3 qualities of true  leadership  — courage, curiosity and humility — and meet as human beings on the common ground of compassion, love and hope. Their belief is that in normalizing addictions and street life, they awaken hearts to the possibility of what is beyond the narrow confines of addiction and street life. And in that possibility, lives change. Lives are saved.

The work AlphaHouse does is not easy. In fact, it’s very hard. To stand beside someone and walk with them compassionately and lovingly, removing obstacles as they arise, taking away roadblocks as they appear so that the individual can see for themselves through the brokenness of where they’re at takes patience, compassion and Love. It takes a commitment to being present without judgement. It takes a belief in the magnificence of the human spirit that does not waver in the darkness of someone’s addiction acting out and it takes patience.

Last night I received a beautiful limited edition Pendelton blanket designed by a member of the Tsuu T’ina nation. It was a thoughtful and fitting gift. It reflects the care and love Kathy and her team put into everything they do.

I am grateful. I am blessed.

The Chief Bullhead blanket

After the AGM, when I went to meet my daughter for dinner, I couldn’t leave the blanket in my car. I was afraid someone would see it and break in and take it. I don’t recall a time I have ever felt that paranoid about having my car broken into. I did not want to lose this gift.

When I came home, I laid it out on my bed and when I crawled under the covers I felt myself wrapped in not only its loving embrace, but also the significance of what it represents.

As a Canadian, I am not proud of what we did in the past to First Nations peoples. I’m not proud of what we do today in many instances either. We continue to criticize, condemn and complain. We continue to discriminate. We continue to see through eyes that connect to the pain of the past and do not see the promise of what can be when we walk, side by side. When we see eachother as equals, allowing one another to lead, allowing one another to be each other’s teacher.

This beautiful blanket represents all of that for me and more. In its sacred design, in its rich and vibrant colours, in the story it tells of how Chief Bullhead sent out scouts to mark the Treaty 7 lands for the nation, I breathe into not only the deep traditions of the Tsuu T’ina, I breathe into the hope and love of what is possible when we let go of pain and breathe into promise.

I slept under the warmth of a blanket last night. I awaken.

I am grateful. I am blessed.

I got wrapped last night — not the rhyming, thrumming beat of a voice calling out in musical poetry (as C.C. asked when I got home :)) but wrapped in a beautiful hand-crafted quilt. The wrapping ceremony is part of the ritual of departure the women graduating from Servants Anonymous Society (SAS) participate in when they leave the formal programming to become alumni.

For me, the wrapping ceremony was a thank-you from the organization for sharing my words with the group gathered to celebrate another year of achievement, success, and hard-work at SAS.

As i stood in front of the room, the beautiful quilt drapped around my body, I felt wrapped up in warmth and safety and love and possibility. I felt embraced in the sisterhood of the women who step into SAS broken and frightened and unsure of what to do or how they’re going to do it who, weeks, months later leave empowered; with voice, with hope, with possibility shining in their eyes and plans and dreams unfolding before them. I am one with the sisters, one with the women, one with everyone who recognizes and supports the amazing and important work this agency does in our community.

The SAS mission is to provide long-term treatment programs, ongoing support, hope and wholeness to women aged 16 and over (with or without children) who are victims of, or at risk of, sexual exploitation.

Last year, 235 women and children passed through their doors. Looking at the social impact of their work, it’s a 1:9 return on investment. For every dollar spent, the  impact ripples into the community again and again. Beyond the dollars, SAS creates a living circle of lives saved, children’s dreams restored, and families connected as mother’s, sisters, daughters, aunts, cousins and friends leave the street life behind to claim the life they deserve. A life away from addictions, the sex trade, exploitation, self-harm, degradation and self-hatred. And in that moving away, so much is claimed, regained, restored and built. So much that at one time seemed impossible. Seemed so far away, so impossible, undeserved. From unworthy to worthy is just a thought, but it can take a long time to claim it, and for some, for those who do not have the support of SAS or other agencies working to steal people away from street life, the thought of “I am worthy” may never happen.

Street life does that to you. It steals your dignity, self-respect, hope, belief in humankind, belief in yourself. It robs you of your sense of being at home in the world, of having a place to belong where abuse, violence, drugs are not part of the daily norm.

Street life kills

and, Because of SAS, 235 women and children found a path away from that life into the life they deserve, the life that says — you matter. you count, you have value.

I to wrapped last night.

I am grateful. Grateful for the passionate and committed volunteers, staff, alumnae, former participants and women who contribute to and participate in SAS. Grateful that women have a place to run to when the road ahead grows so dark they do not know which way to turn, and can only go to this place where they know there is a possibility to turn their lives around.

My SAS Quilt at home in my studio. I am grateful

Thank you Servants Anonymous Society. Thank you Gillian and Teresa and Marina and everyone else who made last night’s event such a memorable and heart-warming evening. thank you for the work you do, the heart you share and the love you give to everyone.

My quilt has the perfect home. It sits on the big leather chair in my studio, waiting to wrap me up as I meditate with my creative muse. It will embrace me in tender, loving warmth as I create and paint and write and simply rest in peace with where I am and how I am doing and what I am creating.

Thank you.

Tomorrow evening I’ve been invited to the AGM of an agency in town. They’d like to recognize me for my volunteer efforts on their behalf over the past year. I was surprised when asked to attend. I didn’t really think I’d done all that much — in fact, I think there’s way more I could have done!

In my mind, I always think I need to do more — which is why I’m surprised — they actually think I’ve done lots. Which is of course, the critter stirring up trouble within me. He says “See you fooled them Louise. They actually think you did something.”

What’s with that critter?  Doesn’t he know when to take a break?

Truth is, I control the critter — or he’ll control me. He’s always lurking, sneaking in and disturbing my peace of mind. It’s up to me to look him in the eyes and say, “Enough! Back off jack. You have no role in my life today. I do enough. Give enough. Am enough. End of story.”

This year, as I have done for the past two, I am an Impact Speaker for the United Way’s annual fund-raising campaign. It is a volunteer position that I love and one that I truly enjoy fulfilling on. Yesterday, I spoke to a group of United Way Ambassadors — people internal to an organization who promote United Way within the company. There were about 30 volunteers gathered to learn more about how they can support UW within their organization, and how they can reach out to encourage others to give of their time, talents and treasures to support the amazing work the UW does in our city and surrounding areas.

“Before you reach out to anyone,” said one of the Company volunteers who had helped organize the training, “it’s a good idea to go to the website and make your pledge first. That way, you’ll not only know how it’s done, you’ll also be coming from a place of integrity.”

You gotta walk your talk before inviting others to take the journey.

And I wonder — where does the message, “You don’t do enough Louise,” come from?

It’s hard to ignore that when it comes to ending homelessness, there is so much more to do. So much more I can do!

Yet, why don’t I think what I’m doing is enough?

Bottomline — it has nothing to do with what I’m doing, and everything to do with what I’m thinking. I create, promote or allow 100% of everything that happens in my life. In this case, I’m indulging in stinkin’ thinkin’. I’m allowing the critter to hold the reins on my sense of well-being so he can play havoc with my equilibrium.

Let go you crotchety critter! Rise up peace of mind and take back the reins!

Before I can inspire others to live this one wild and precious life in the rapture of now, I need to walk my talk. I need to stay balanced in that place where the circle is continually evolving through the life-giving cycle of ‘giving is receiving’. In that place, I celebrate who I am, exactly the way I am by honouring what I do and create in the world from a place of Love, gratitude and humility. I mean seriously, if I’m looking to inspire others to share their time, talents and treasures, maybe I need to give myself a break and receive the appreciation of others without sneaking off into the shadow place within that says, “Fooled you! I haven’t done or given enough.”

Maybe what any of us needs to do to quiet the critter is to breathe into our heart so that we can hear our soul calling us to let our light shine without trying to dim it with false modesty. bravado, or any other tactic we use to push away receiving appreciation. Maybe we can all go look in the mirror and smile at ourselves and say, with our heart and eyes filled with Love, “You’re okay (insert your name here). You’re giving of your best, doing your all and making a difference. I give enough. I do enough. I am enough.”

Maybe, making a world of difference means letting our difference be seen in not only how we give, but in how we receive.

My creative corner.

I christened my studio space last night and while I didn’t crack a bottle of Champagne against a wall, I did open up the paints and start creating.

I am excited.

It is a dream come true. After hours of moving furniture, pulling up the rug and underlay, scraping the floor of glue and removing strips of wood that held the rug in place, I spent a couple of hours on Saturday sealing the concrete. Yesterday, I lugged all my painting equipment back from my girlfriend’s basement and set up my space.

I am ready. To create. To muse. To throw paint and ideas around on the canvas. I am ready to explore the inner realms of my creative core, searching and wondering and delighting in whatever I find.

Last night, as I worked on a painting that was not making me happy, I saw the parallels in my life.

It’s like working towards a goal. There’s the initial excitement of envisioning what will happen when… your goal is reached.

The drying tables — Gessoed canvases waiting for the muse to strike

There’s the planning and idea-generating. And then there’s the grunt work of setting up the structure, building the framework, creating the map. Sometimes, it’s easy to give up in those moments because — well, because it’s hard and the goal appears so far out on the horizon that reaching it can at times seem impossible.

You dig in. Focus on the task at hand and keep going.

Distractions arise. A shiny object appears on the trail and you think about changing course, redirecting your path.

You dig deeper (or maybe you take a different course, abandon your goal, give up).

For me, creating my studio space has been a long held goal that I kept compromising on, dismissing, altering.

At first, I thought it would be okay to use the space as is — deep, plush red rug on the floor and all. The other section a TV and seating area while the front half was my art-space.

That didn’t work out that well. I didn’t feel comfortable painting with rug beneath my feet — and I hadn’t properly put the table together that I was using and thus, it wasn’t very stable.

I abandoned my space.

For about two years. Occasionally I’d cover the dining room table in plastic, spread more plastic on the floor and paint there — but the set-up was onerous — having to move all my paints upstairs, having to move everything around to make it possible for me to create. And then, having to take it down every time because we needed the table to eat on, and quite frankly, the living room/dining room didn’t look that tidy dressed up as an art studio!

WIP — need to tone down the green, work on bottom section.

And then, I started painting in my girlfriend’s basement and it didn’t matter where I splashed or dripped paint. The floor was concrete. TZ and LS and I painted and laughed and chatted and sipped wine and I loved painting with my two muses, but…

It wasn’t my space. I couldn’t come and go as I pleased, at any time of day or night. My girlfriend has two late-teenage year daughters who still live at home and I often felt like I was interfering in their life — even though I was welcomed. I just didn’t feel comfortable turning up at the door and walking through their living space to get to the studio downstairs.

The idea started to form in my head. If the rug in your basement is the big deterrent, why not take it out?

Ummm…. it’s a big job. I’ve never ripped out a rug before, especially on a concrete floor…

So?  How hard can it be?

And then, at a birthday party for a friend, I chatted with her ex-husband who lays flooring as his business. “It’s easy,” he said and then gave me simple instructions on how to do it.

C.C. chops up the big old beast

The very next Saturday, C.C. chopped up the big old, heavier than you can imagine home theatre unit that was broken anyway, and I carried out the wood and debris. TV gone, it was a simple matter of moving all the furniture and clutter to the spare room and then, on the Sunday tackling the rug. It took me all day but I did it.

That was a month ago. It seemed there just wasn’t time to seal the floor. Until Saturday when C.C. and I went to the hardware store, bought a jug of clear sealant and I set to work.

And now it’s done. Finished. Complete.

And now, I have my dream come true. A studio space to create in, a special space to simply be present to the muse as she weaves her magic throughout my being, and my life.

All because I had a dream and stayed focused on the job at hand. All because I was committed to my Be. Do. Have. (Be committed to Do what it takes to Have what you want).

My girlfriends and I are planning an art show this fall.

Gotta get busy!