I Am....

I came across this quote by CS Lewis the other night.

It YELLED at me...

And I created the drawing above.

Then when I was saving the photo, I noticed I had another photo saved with a similar name.

Obviously I love this quote because I did another drawing with it very recently - back in January.

Is the universe trying to teach me a lesson here?

 

 

So it got me thinking...

What do I believe I am?

I remember sitting in a workshop many years ago.

We were supposed to find a partner and introduce ourselves.

We were then instructed to write down who we were.

We took our pens and began scribbling quickly.

We created our personal resumes on our paper.

We then shared our answers...

Wife, Mother, Sister, doctor, lawyer, assistant, teacher, student, volunteer, etc., etc., etc...

 

The teacher thanked us all and told us that not one of us had answered his question.

We all looked around in confusion.

We had long lists stating who we were.

 

"Those are the roles that you fill each day. They are not 'who' you are...", he said.

"Now - write down "WHO" you are".

 

We took our pens in hand and .....

Sat in silence.

No pens were moving.

We were all stumped.

We looked around the room hoping that the answer would find us.

How do you answer that question?

 

If I couldn't state my roles - then who was I?

This question wasn't about what I did or how I spent my time -

but it was about those things that we hold so close to ourselves, deep down inside.

The things that we feel uncomfortable speaking out loud because it may be interpreted as being

egotistical or vulnerable or afraid...

The ever-thriving personal internal debate...

"like yourself just the way you are - but don't brag about it or you are conceited."

or

"don't show your fears and vulnerabilities or someone will take advantage of you".

 

So "who" am I? Who do I believe I am?

I'm still learning the answer to that question.

I may never fully know the answer because I am always growing and changing and evolving.

I hope I never stop.

 

But let me share the words of Marianne Williamson -

 

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
― Marianne Williamson, Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles"

 

This quote gives me goosebumps every time I read it.

This is who we are -

it is who I am...

 

And I hope that, as I let my light shine as bright as I am able, it will "give other people permission to do the same." As I am "liberated from my own fear", I can "liberate others".

 

 

 

 

 



Possibility...

Did you hear it?
Yesterday, there was huge noise.
It sounded like a loud BAM....
At least it seemed that way to me.

It was me -
slamming the door closed on the last chapter of the previous life.

Let me explain...

Yesterday, I went to the title company and signed off on the sale of my house.
Notice, I said house - and not home.

When it became evident that my marriage was over,
one of the first things I had to do as a "grown-up" was put my home up for sale.
It was one of the hardest things I had ever done.
And it was filled with a lot of conflict -
I had wanted to move for quite a while.
I didn't like our neighborhood at all - it had changed so much since we had moved in there -
and not for the better.
But it was still our home.
I had lived there longer than any other single residence other than the house I grew up in.
I grew up in a family that "stayed put".
Having a place to call home was so important to me as a child - I wanted that for my kids.
I wanted that spot that they could come back to again and again and again and feel the comfort of home.
And if I was to move from that home,
it needed to be on my own terms.
It needed to be a well-thought out decision.

But in July, I found myself talking with a realtor to sell my home -
and it was because my world had been ripped apart.
All of a sudden I was getting ready to sell my home and it was not by my choice.
I was paying the consequence for someone else's choices.
And it made me sad.
And then it made me angry.
I moved in December,
but the house had not sold yet.
I continued to be responsible for it - at least financially.
I wasn't living in it -
but it was still there.
And I had to return to it several times over the last few months.
Which was surreal.

But enough of the past -
yesterday, the house officially because someone elses.
On Monday, I returned to it for a few miscellaneous things that still needed to be collected.
I walked through the empty rooms.
The heat has been off for a while so it was cold - really cold.
The halls echoed with the emptiness.
It was a house.
No longer a home.
And I felt a heaviness.
I drove home and cried on and off all evening.
But I awoke cleansed and ready to move on.
I signed yesterday.
I officially "closed" out the account on all of the utilities.
And then - feeling strong and empowered and somewhat lighter,
I went a step further...
I went to the DMV and changed my address and . . .
wait for it . . .
my name!

Yes! I have officially taken back my maiden name.
I am no longer Laurie Miller -

I am Laurie Linn.
FYI...The business name will be following shortly -
but here is the point...

As Laurie Miller,
I felt trapped on many occasions - hopeless.
I didn't allow myself to think about new adventures, vacations, or anything big -
I didn't even allow myself to think about things closer to home -
like trying new restaurants or going to hear live music in a local venue.
I had accepted that those things were not going to happen so I quit hoping.
Now don't get me wrong -
I was in a "good" marriage.
I wasn't abused or dispected.
But my former spouse didn't like to try new things.
Or to plan -
and definitely not to dream like I did.
And after asking and suggesting with no positive feedback, over the course of time - I stopped.

But Laurie Linn...
Well - that's a different story.

She is believing in POSSIBILITY!

 

 



Random Order

 

A few random thoughts on this Friday morning . . .

 

1. I'm going to be a Grandma again. Or "Nanna" as my grandson calls me. He is going to be a big brother! Yeah...So happy, proud and excited.

2. We are just about ready to close on the house I moved out of in December . . .I was beginning to think this was never going to happen. (Heavy sigh of relief).

3. I love clouds. I don't like gray skies - but I love the clouds we get in Oregon this time of year...So majestic and beautiful.

4. I am ready for Spring and color.

5. I love to laugh.

6. I have a lot of things I want to do . . .and sometimes I feel a sense of panic because I am so anxious to do them all....NOW

7. I still love to read some of my favorite children's stories. And I read them to myself.

8. I feel honored when I witness miracles.

9. I LOVE dragonflies and swallows.

10. I miss holding hands with someone special.

11. I don't like the judges on American Idol this year - it kind of ruined the show for me.

12. I love listening to live music.

13. I love to drink fresh juice in the morning.

14. It's never too late to try something for the first time.

15. I don't like to have my picture taken.

16. I don't like to be the center of attention.

17. I love spontaneous get-togethers.

18. I want to take a dance class.

19. I would prefer to see live theater over a movie.

20. I am grateful for my dog - who forces me to get outside, even when I don't want to.

21. I love pistachios.

22. I've discovered I actually like Country music - not all, but a lot of it.

23. Making new friends is scary . . .but fun.

24. I have learned how to ignite the pilot light on my gas fireplace, trouble shoot my garage door opener when it isn't working, and fix my garbage disposal when it gets clogged.

25. I have a love/hate relationship with the weekend.

26. Honey Nut Cheerios are really yummy.

27. I am not as organized as I would like to be but I am willing to accept this flaw.

28. I love hats - but I don't like wearing them. They make my head itch.

29. Dreams are Weird!

30. I get so frustrated when I have a day off and can sleep in but wake up earlier than I do during the week.

31. Why do people wait until they are far away to tell you how they feel?

32. Shrimp salad rolls with peanut sauce.  Enough said.

33. A good pillow should never be underestimated. Same goes for good pots and pans.

34. My kitchen knives really need to be sharpened!

35. 10:00 in the morning is NOT too early for good chocolate. 

Taking a Time Out . .

 

I started this girl about two years ago -

I liked her, but wasn't fully happy with her.

The colors were off - she just didn't feel right.

But the message spoke to me. I set her aside and was going to come back and finish her.

At some point, she ended up in a file, half completed.

It was almost as if I couldn't finish her because I didn't believe the message.

I wasn't committed.

I believed everyone else deserved that infamous "time out" -but I wasn't allowing myself that.

I had too much to do.

Hmmmmm.

 

Recently, while sorting through files and boxes of stuff that I couldn't deal with before my move,

I came across her again.

I stared at her and thought -

it's your time to come to life.

And as I thought that - I wasn't sure if I was saying this the girl in the illustration or to myself.

I put her in my "active" file of pieces that I am working on.

 

Last weekend, I escaped to the Oregon Coast for a short visit.

My weekend was very, very busy -

filled with long walks, naps, reading, meditating, sleeping and drawing.

OK - maybe busy is not the right word - but it was the kind of busy-ness I needed.

Other than the long walks, most of my time was spent in a rocking chair in front of a fire.

I took a short nap and then got up. I sat in the chair.  I pulled out my drawing supplies.

I opened my pack of paper.

And there, sitting on the top, was the original drawing of the "time out" girl.

I didn't realize I had her with me.

 

I didn't feel right working on the original version.

That was drawn during a different time and I was in a very different mind-set.

So I started from scratch.

I drew the girl above, attempting to capture the essence of the weekend I was having.

Kicking my feet up and spending all of my energy on .... ME!

 

I posted this on Facebook to share with friends and I was amazed at the response form my women friends.

 

Obviously - I'm not the only one that needs to be reminded to take a "time out" for ourselves.

 

We spend almost every waking minute doing for others -

our jobs, our families, our friends, our pets, our homes, our chores...

it's hard to know where to slip in some time for ourselves.

 

But the lesson that I have learned over the last year - and have to keep relearning -

is that when I take a few minutes and give to myself -

I am far more productive on the have-tos.

So - I plan on taking this particular piece and sharing it with my friends -

I'm also going to make a copy for my own walls.

 

So here is the question - what are YOU doing to take care of you?

Is it time for a time out?

Do the Hustle . . .

Five, six, seven, eight . . .

Step, ball change, step, step...

Dance. Choreography. Routines.

I spent a lot of time in musical theater rehearsals and in dance classes growing up.

I spent countless hours stretching at a barre.

I learned ballet and jazz and modern and tap.

I did not have a favorite.

I learned to dance the charleston, the hustle, the boot scootin' boogie and just about every other dance trend you can imagine.

I loved it all.

While in high school, I met a friend.

He was a little overweight and not very "cute".

He was considered a little odd.

He didn't really "fit" in.

He was teased sometimes by his peers.

But he was kind and we became friends.

Really great friends.

We discovered that we shared some important common interests - music and dance.

He had an amazing music collection on albums.

Remember those? Vinyl!

I had a tape player.

I would give him blank tapes - he would record his albums for me.

And then we would go find an empty room at the school, or at our church or . . .whereever.

We would drag along a boom box (remember those?) and some of the music tapes.

And we would crank up the music and dance.

On the dance floor - 

he became a different person.

He was Fred Astaire. I was Ginger Rogers.

We would be gliding around in our jeans and athletic shoes - but I imagined that he was in a top hat and tuxedo and I was in a ball gown.

He knew every kind of dance imaginable - 

We would waltz.

We would swing.

We even (I must confess) did disco. 

He was a great leader. 

I learned how to follow his lead by the simplest of touches on my back.

We would do spins, and lifts, and dips, and all sorts of tricks. 

I trusted him. He trusted me. 

I think today of some of the throws he would do with me, and I can't believe that we were that brave.

At times, I felt suspended high in the air above him.

We developed an unspoken language.

When we were 17 we entered a talent contest. We danced.

We didn't even have a set routine - we worked better if we were spontaneous.

We danced.

We won.

Occasionally I attended social dances at my school or my church. 

At these dances, if my partner of choice was not there, I would dance with others.

Very often, when I attended these dances, I wasn't asked to dance very often. I would stand on the wall - yes, it is true - I was a bit of a wallflower.

Often the ones who did ask me to dance were not great partners.

They struggled to know what to do with their feet, where to put their hands, where to look - 

we lacked . . .communication.

I didn't enjoy it.

When the song ended, I would thank them and try to escape as quickly as possible.

And then I would wait and look for my friend - the wonderful dance partner.

 

After my children were born, I pretty much stopped dancing.

Or did I?

I feel like I have been involved in a dance of sorts for the last several months.

This dance has had all sorts of partners-

the unknown, fear, sadness.

These partners have not been very good leaders.

They are unpredictable and are poor at communicating. 

They leave me feeling lost and frustrated and very, very insecure with my abilities.

I have also danced with the partners of happiness, hope, peace and joy.

I prefer dancing with these partners.

I trust these partners - they help me to feel confident and special and in charge of my life.

They are the partners that are encouraging me to chase me dreams and to achieve a new level of life that I never thought possible.

And because these partners are all about building confidence in me - 

they are trusting ME to take the lead.

The bad dance partners are still going to come and go - just like in those social dances of my youth.

But I don't have to spend more than one song with them.

I thank them for the dance- and make my escape.

And then - I go and look for my favorite partners to finish the night out with.

BELIEVE. . .

First of all . . .may I just express my thrill.

Because of a readers comments, I tried doing this through Firefox and SUCCESS!

I was able to upload a photo. 

Whew! One less thing to stress over. LOL

The statement in this piece is near and dear to my heart.

A little walk down memory lane . . .

My dad was in sales for as long as I can remember.

He was self-employed for many of his working years.

Tried his hand at a few businesses - all related to his area of specialty, which was insurance and financial planning. 

Some of the businesses failed.- some didn't.

But he was a hard worker and tenacious.

And in the end - he was successful.

He took care of his family and his wife and still does to this day.

He instilled an incredibly strong work ethic in each of his children.

We all were expected to do chores with no allowance - or payback was a warm, wonderful home to grow up in and no lack of food to eat. 

He taught us that being a member of a family was a group effort and he would pay us the day that he got paid for his chores around the house.

He kept our yard beautiful.

We had a huge garden that fed us and my summers were spent canning with my parents.

He loved and still does love my mother with all of his heart. 

He taught us, his children, to follow our dreams.

He taught us that we had the power to learn and work at anything that we were passionate and to never give up on it.

I remember, being College age. I had been a musical theatre major.

I knew it was not the smartest option for College - but it was what I was passionate about. 

One day I decided to change. I was going to go into physical therapy. 

How's that for a total directional change.

I enrolled in science and medical classes - 

I was excited - but I stopped sleeping and starting having bad dreams.

He sat me down and told me to stop trying to be someone I wasn't meant to be. 

Follow your heart, he said.

I stopped pursuing physical therapy - and then the nightmares stopped and I began to feel better.

He is my hero.

Because of the line of work he was in, he was often involved in sales conferences and seminars.

I remember several times - from about age 12 on through high school,

that he would take me to these with him.

Why?

Because the nature of his work was sales - these conferences were often geared towards methods for making more money in the industry.

But the talks were not about knocking on more doors or being a salesman . . .

They were about using the power of positive thought to accomplish great things.

The power of positive thinking.

He told me he wanted me to be able to do whatever I wanted - and that understanding this concept was a key element to that.

Growing up - 

there have been many different approaches to this concept - 

but in the end, and in it's simplest form - 

it all comes down to this:

We are what we believe we are.

Think you are happy? . . .then you are.

Think you are miserable? . . .then you are.

Think you are strong and courageous? . . .then you are.

Think you are fabulous? . . .then you are.

I learned this concept at a very young age.

But I didn't begin really applying it until adulthood.

OK - moment of truth - 

I still struggle with this concept.

I struggle with it each and every day.

My own self-defeating gremlins and demons get in the way sometime.

But regardless of the struggle . . .I also know that it is true.

Believe what you are and what you want to do in this life.

Believe in the possibility.

Believe in the power of yourself.

This next week, my father is going in for a major surgery. 

He is 81.

I know that he will be ok - in fact, he will emerge better than he is.

But my heart is still hurting for him and my mom and, quite frankly, for myself.

And in his honor - I am going to believe that he will be more than fine - he will be amazing!

Thanks, Daddy. I love you and I appreciate the lessons that you shared with me.

 

DANCE

When I was five, my mom put me in the car one day and told me she had a surprise for me.

We drove for a while - really just a short distance - but to me it felt like forever.

We arrived at an old school and went inside.

I was confused and nervous.

What were we doing?

We stood in a really, really long line.

And then it happened - she signed me up for ballet lessons.

We then went and bought tights, and leotards, lots of bobby pins and the best part of all . . .

ballet slippers.

I went to dance lessons and learned to plie, and releve'.

I learned about first position and all of the other positions.

To this day - over forty years later - I tend to turn my feet out when standing.

I learned about working at the barre.

We practiced during each class to a live piano player who spent her afternoons playing classical music for us to point and kick to.

And then in the winter - the best thing of all happened -

we got dressed up in our costumes, had our hair pulled back into a tight bun, had our faces smothered in thick make-up and performed our routine on a large stage in downtown Portland.

This was the same stage that the best theatrical performances were given on, and concerts and all the best talent in our City performed on.

And I got to do my simple ballet routine on it.

The lights were so bright and hot.

The audience applauded for us.

It was magical.

And I became instantly addicted to performing.

 

I continued dancing for years to come - all the way through college.

Besides ballet -

I experimented with jazz and tap.

I played around with ball room.

If it was performed to music - I tried it.

And as I grew - I discovered my love of theatre and my favorite thing of all was to perform in musical theatre.

There, I was able to satisfy my love of acting, music and dance.

There I found my bliss.

To this day - If I hear wonderful music, it is next to impossible not to move in some way.

 

But somewhere along the way -

I stopped dancing.

I had children.

The family came first.

Money was tight.

Time was short.

Patience were stretched.

I gained a few (ok maybe more than a few) pounds.

And I stopped dancing on stage . . . in public . . .even in front of my family.

The few times I danced, I confined myself to the safety of my own home when no one was around.

 

Recently - I watched a movie on dancers.

It was a documentary about young ballet dancers who are driven, and passionate and desperate to dance every minute of their lives.

I watched as they stretched and practiced.

I watched as they extended their legs.

They made it look so easy and fluid. Yet - having been a dancer, I understood the dedication and hard work involved. The ultimate athleticism.

I found myself longing for the bloodied toes and the aching muscles. Those things were almost like "badges of honor" to us dancers.

My heart and muscles almost ached for the feel of dance while I watched the movie.

And the feeling lingered for some time afterwards.

 

We all have that thing that makes us ache inside -

maybe for you it is music, or a sport, or writing or . . . .?

It was that thing that you loved to do more than anything else when you were young.

It's that thing that makes you feel restless when you ignore it.

It calls to you. It drives you.

 

Do you answer the call?

Do you still do it?

Do you still pursue that passion on a daily basis?

Why do we let these things go as we become adults?

Somewhere along the way, we become convinced that working on those passions is a sign of immaturity.

Or worse yet - it's a sign of being selfish.

 

Really? Being true to ourself and doing that which makes us the best that we can possibly be is selfish?

As I have grown and changed, I have developed new passions - my art and writing. These

 are passions equal to performing and music and dance.

Does that make me greedy to have more than one?

And if I have such strong desires for my art and writing - am I being greedy to want to pursue the old and forgotten ones?

Does that make me selfish? Or self-absorbed?

 

I am beginning to challenge that thought in my own life now.

I am wanting to reclaim those lost passions.

I want to DANCE!

 

Fearless Warrior?

 

 

"For the warrior, the experience of a sad and tender heart is what gives birth to fealessness. Conventionally, being fearless means that you are not afraid or that if someone hits you, you will hit him back. However, we are not talking about that street-fighter level of fearlessness.

Real fearlessness is the product of tenderness." Chogyam Trungpa

 

A short time ago, a friend gave me a book. . .

 a self-help book, which normally I would run away from.

I'm just being honest.

But this one is different.

It's written for a real person. By a real person.

It's full of wonderful life experiences and I have found myself sucked into it -

reading little bits every day and feeling uplifted, inspired and stronger.

In fact, it is full of little sticky notes where I have read passages that jump off the page at me.

 

The above passage jumped off the page at me today.

 

I have a another very good friend - who teaches martial arts.

He refers to this craft as being a "peaceful warrior".

 

Peaceful warrior.

 

Now normally, I would have heard that phrase and I wouldn't have given it any attention.

But the word "warrior" is not one that I think of or use in my daily communications.

It has a connotation of someone who is fierce and scary and who likes to fight.

Some like the street fighter that Trungpa refers to.

Someone who gets pleasure out of fighting.

 

Or it conjures up images of Melk Gibson in Braveheart.

And if you know me very well . . .you know that I have never watched that movie because, again -

the idea of a warrior makes me uncomfortable.

In fact - it scares me a little.

 

So why am I hearing this word so often lately.

Seriously - it seems like I keep hearing and seeing this word.

What I am supposed to learn from this?

 

Hmmmm -

Then today, I read the above quote in my book.

And there is that warrior word again.

And Chogyam Trungpa states that a true warrior is tender.

A true warrior has experienced sadness and has a tender heart.

 

And as my friend stated - a warrior is peaceful.

Wow!

OK - obviously, I meant to learn a lesson here.

 

 

I have expereienced a lot of sadness this last six months.

I feel like I have been in a battle every day.

 

I have also experienced a lot of joy.

Big, little and medium sized victories -

 

I like to think that I have a tender heart.

Heaven knows - if I am in your presence and you begin to weep over something that is weighing you down . . .

I can guarantee I will be sharing your tears with you.

I tend to be very empathetic to others.

And as I continue to emerge from the experiences I have had over the last year,

I find that anger is one of the few emotions that I am NOT feeling.

Oh don't get me wrong - I have moments of being upset . . .even mad.

But anger is not an emotion that is dominating me right now.

I'm not angry with my circumstances or my ex husband or the universe . . .

quite the opposite.

I am curious as to what I can learn and share from this experience.

I am filled with compassion for my ex husband for the struggles that he is going through.

Does that mean I am being a doormat and am willing to not hold him accountable for his actions?

NO.

But I am filled with compassion and empathy.

I am filled with tendernes.

Through this experience I am learning a deeper sense of compassion and tenderness . . .

and I am learning to be more compassionate and tender to . . .

wait for it . . .

-

to MYSELF.

 

Yup.

Me.

Myself.

I.

 

Oh boy - is that ever new for me!

Compassion and tenderness and empathy -

those are emotions you have for other people - not yourself? Right?

I mean - as a wife, a mother . . .a woman -

we have a tendency to put everyone elses needs before our own.

To not do that is selfish.

But how many of us keep doing that and then one day we wake up, look in the mirror and find that we are no longer in there?

We have lost ourselves.

I have looked back on all of the things that I removed from my life in order to be the perfect, selfless woman -

I gave up on friendships, interests and passions.

But those were all things that made me who I was.

So - I became lost.

 

It's almost a new year.

And I have never been one to spend a lot of time lamenting over resolutions.

I don't really see the point in looking at ways to improve myself based on a date on the calendar.

But this year is different.

And I have already been working on those resolutions.

And my number one resolution? -

to put myself first.

 

Not in a selfish way - but in a way that allows me to be a better person in order to give those around me what they need.

To allow myself to continue to grow a more tender heart.

And I can't emotionally do that without caring for myself first.

I will be more tender with myself.

I will forgive myself for my faults and take responsibility for them so that I can improve.

I will learn to say no to those things  and more importantly - those people -  that make me feel like less of a person - or who seperate me from my true purpose.

 

I am going to work on becoming FEARLESS.

 

And - here is where I am going to go out on a limb -

I am going to work to become a WARRIOR!

CHANGE

Change.

Does any word create such a wide range of emotions?

Excitement. Fear. Dread. Fear. Happiness. Fear.

Anticipation. Fear. Pressure. Fear. Joy . . .oh and don't forget FEAR!

 

Yet - how often do we avoid the change -

and often the wonderful rewards that come as a result of change?

 

Right now -

I am going through all kinds of change.

Some of it by my choice.

Some of it as a result of other's choices.

Most of it very exciting -

All of it scary.

 

But the main lesson I have learned from this is to be open to the change.

Overall - change can be very good.

 

Years ago, I remember learning that life is constantly in motion.

We are either moving forward or we are moving backwards -

we are never stagnant.

If we aren't changing and growing for the better . . .

well . . .we are going in the opposite direction.

 

And the only way I can find to make sure that I am going forward is to keep dreaming . . .

keep reaching. . .

keep changing.

 

Which, of course, then brings us back to the subject of fear.

 

Right now

my art business is going through a major change.

It will be good.

I feel confident that it will be great!

It started as a dream.

And the dream is beginning to become a reality.

But it is scary.

Because it has caused me to make some decisions to let go of things that I feel confident about.

Things that I am comfortable with.

 

But I am choosing to let go of the comfort and continue this journey forward.

 

Stay tuned - I promise to share details when I can.

But in the meantime - I will keep dreaming.

And envisioning where this journey of change will take me.



What is Fear Preventing You From Doing?

 

Remember when we were kids?

We would sit in our grade school classes and the teacher would ask us -

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I don't know about your class -

but in my class, the answers were BIG things.

No one said - I just want to be ordinary.

We had BIG dreams. BIG hopes. BIG desires.

We didn't think about how much money it would make or what others would thin of our choices -

We lived by our dreams.

 

As for me. . .

I fantasized about being a ballet dancer.

I wanted to twirl on my toes and wear flowing skirts or sparkly tutus.

 

I wanted to be singer - not with a rock band -

but with a big, full swing orchestra.

And even when I was young, my dream would have been to dress up in 40's style vintage dresses and sing classic American dance standards for a band like Duke Ellington or a jazz band like Ella Fitzgerald.

(Truth be told - I still have this fantasy!)

 

I dreamed of being a Broadway actress.

Doing that meant I could combine all of my passions together.

I wanted to perform in classic musicals like West Side Story or 42nd Street.

The more dancing the better -

and I did get to perform in some amazing musicals when I was younger - just not on Broadway.

But I miss that part of my life and will find a way to return.

 

I dreamed of working in the Peace Corps -

living a life of poverty in a remote village in a jungle and selflessly helping others.

 

I dreamed of being a police woman like Angie Dickinson was on tv.

Or a lawyer like Perry Mason.

I dreamed of being the perfect mom who had a whole group of children and never got ruffled like Mrs. Brady.

I dreamed of being a cool, hip musician mom like Mrs. Partridge. . .

 

But I never, ever dreamed of being an artist.

I tried art in grade school.

I tried it in high school.

I thought I had no talent whatsover and that feared stopped me from even taking a class.

If I drew something or tried to be artistic, I would cover it up and not let anyone see.

I would only try if I was hidden in my room - and it almost always ended up in the garbage.

I didn't get the courage to try to really explore art or painting until I was well into my 30s.

And even then - I was scared to really try.

I used patterns or only painted in solid colors and let someone else do the detailing for me.

 

I didn't even utter the phrase

"I am an artist"

until 10 years ago.

It took me that long to say to myself,

"I don't care what it looks like - I am going to paint for myself."

And when I lost the fear - life began.

 

What is preventing you from trying to do . . .?

It's time for a fresh start.

It's time to explore those dreams and make them happen.

It is time to LIVE.