Rule Number One: Listen, Feel, Flow.

It’s been an odd day. I was supposed to be resting but….

img_7562 ⇐ This is how it felt.

Men. Misogyny. Mistrust. PTSD.

It was a struggle to get back up after I “broke down”. I’m not quite there yet and today was a reminder.

I had a rough sleep. Nightmare. Bad stuff happens to me in the night and wakes me in a state of panic.  It takes a while, still, to calm myself and get back to sleep. And then, acid reflux. Almost as bad as a nightmare because it hurts for real so much. It’s  stress related.

Yesterday I was told that my disability coverage may end soon. That’s obviously a big issue for me. I have a mortgage, debt exacerbated by having to pay for my care, and the regular day to day expenses of life.Scary stuff. I am working two days a week and barely managing it. I’d have to go back at least four days to make ends meet and well, that’s not something I can think about right now.

But back to today. First, a lovely young woman courageously shared her story of depression and her mother’s bipolar disorder.Second, in a phone call I was told the Woman’s March was stupid. Obviously by someone who had never been sexually assaulted or had experience in being the recipient of mysogyny. After a third, personally troubling bit of information, I lost it. Breath couldn’t hold me together anymore. I felt the inner shaking, spinning, and fear take me over. I didn’t fight it. I cried. I allowed it to happen and to pass. Thankfully, I was at home and not at work.

After a cup of tea and some quiet time, I ran to my studio and got into the paint. I always tell my students to climb right into their books when they read, to lose themselves in story. I do that when I paint. I just paint. No plan. No agenda. Just paint and see what happens. Today it was a little bit of a thing. Red. Orange. Black. Fiery colours that come out of me when I’ve experienced panic. It was a little bit of a thing that reminded me of an email I’d received that morning. I’m on Chris Cade’s list. Today, he’d forwarded something. A little lesson in saying…fuckit…When I’d  read it, I was somewhat taken aback, but how serendipitous to receive it today; on a day when I needed permission to let  things go.

I’ve kept my heart open by listening with the taps open.

Thank-you, serendipity.

 

 

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