Monday, April 23, 2012

a little perspective



these months have been long and hard and all about surviving… and not so much thriving. although i have asked those near me to pray otherwise, i have only been able to focus on “making it through” this time, realizing it is a season, and will be over in just a few months. i can make it to September, i think aloud, but then “but i will just have to put my heart on hold until then” follows subconsciously. 

and that’s exactly what i have done. i haven’t spent any time creating, art, writing, poetry, even journaling. how can i, when i can’t even meet my family’s basic needs. my poor husband has had to pick up so much slack these many weeks as far as cooking, cleaning, caring for our son… he’s had to stay home from work at times because i’ve been unable to care for myself, much less the constant needs of my little joey. and so it seems i cannot get past the basics to the deeper things. it has felt impossible, and at times even wrong because what about them? 

so i stay on my couch most of the day, making it through with only a little puking in the midst of a lot of nausea. naps every day during his… 
unable to stir my heart to the surface when i have even my cherished alone time, i end up watching movies or playing dumb games on my iphone, all the while feeling that i don’t even have the option to connect.

every once in a while, i remember – i need this. they need me to engage my heart. it would be better for everyone if i could just get myself to start again, creating. 

i become such a better lover when my heart is alive.

and then little "tragedies" stop me in my tracks, keep me at bay.

when we got home a couple weeks ago from visiting my parents in hawaii (which was awesome, see below ;)


 i discovered that a bag filled with all of my favorite books had been left on the floor in a corner that leaks when it rains hard (we need to fix that ;) - which it did while we were gone. as i took each book out, one by one, i felt my heart dropping... Unfurling by Misty Mawn, Inner Excavation by Liz Lamoreaux, The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron, the best issue ever of Artful Blogging (may/june/july 2011)... but as jason pointed out, those are all replaceable. the worst part was the journals. i had two written journals and two art journals/sketchbooks in that bag.

those didn't fare well, and there's nothing i can do to replace them. 

in one, more than three-quarters of my journaling was washed completely off the pages. i set them carefully out to dry, and could not bear to return to my studio space for days.


once they dried out, and i could see the extent of the damage, i finally took the time to grieve over the losses. it seems a little silly, but these were beautiful, connecting parts of my days when i would flip through, exercise my creative spirit, write, create, respond... and it needed to be mourned. then, one by one, i made decisions.


The artist's way: toss. it was soaked, and it had been hanging over my head as "something to complete" (i'd done 9 of the 12 weeks about a year ago and always intended to finish, but one of the assignments was to reread all your journaled "morning pages", and take notes about what it was you were experiencing, desiring, hating, etc and that was taking FOREVER. plus, most of those morning pages just got washed away in the rain anyway - nothing to show for all those weeks!). 
Misty Mawn's book actually came out pretty well - none of the pages stuck together, and it was barely wrinkly at all. the cover a bit faded now, but still definitely readable. 
Inner excavation and Artful Blogging magazine not so much. they are beyond repair. so many stuck together pages, tearing off pieces of each other as they are dislocated from each other... they're not in the trash yet, since i fully intend to replace them (and am afraid i'll forget - you know, pregnancy brain and all - if i don't leave them out till i do it). 
but oh, the journals. i will save them forever, even though most of their content has been erased. maybe that is grace? all that time of writing down stream-of-consciousness, both beauty and frustration... this gives me a chance to start over. wiped clean, if you will. maybe i'll even redeem those (emptied) pages into some art sometime.

all that to say, i find only a few moments here and there, in the midst of being nauseous and exhausted, that i can steal away to create. and with all that destruction, i became disheartened. couldn't even make it into that space to try to begin. just stayed in that space of feeling lost and unable to even try.

until about a week ago, when i found a little perspective.

a dear friend was praying for me in the midst of all this hard, and some of her words were to the effect that i would enjoy these last few months i’ll have with only joey and jason, because life will change yet again once this new little one is born. i hadn’t really thought about it like that, not in a while, at least.  for some reason, it was like a light went on in my head and i suddenly remembered: make the MOST of your time! love on these guys now, ‘cause it won’t always be like this… 


and then this week i read indiana’s post about anticipating her second child, and immediately afterwards, jessica’s about how life has changed since her second was born. and it all hit me. how blessed i am right now, to be able to be home with my irresistibly adorable two-year-old, spending all this time getting to know each other, learning together, playing and reading and cuddling. oh how i will miss spending all that time dedicated just to the two of us (i had only really thought before about how he would miss me with my divided attention, not vice versa)! i’m sure three will bring its own delights (and sorrows), but i have suddenly found myself intensely desiring to cherish every moment with joey. and Jason. our dates, little bits of time just the two or three of us… i’m not taking it for granted anymore.

and that all translates over into also remembering the importance of connecting with my own heart and God’s even in this time, too. i feel more healthy, more like i want all the beauty and truth and hard stuff that comes with really living again. i was given a new perspective, and am so thankful that it was while i still have plenty of time to engage in this place. so i’d say expect more posts, more art, and more of my heart to show up! no, you know what? don’t expect anything – just wait and see… ;)








8 comments:

Deborah Lynn said...

there is
"no accident"
that >>JOY<< remains
in your weathered journal.

Unknown said...

oh, how i weep with you for the loss of those words, those pieces of heart stored, and yet, rejoicing with you to start again. each day new. love your space here.

Brian Miller said...

oy i am crying a bit for you over the journels...trying to think of how that would affect me...ugh....and you know i am glad you are able to still find life int his and may redeem it in art later....praying some grace and good feeling your way too...

Brandee Shafer said...

I'm so sorry about what happened to your books. I've had moments like that...moments after something I cherished had been ruined...moments when I knew I couldn't go back in time.

May God shore you up during this pregnancy...alleviate the exhaustion and nausea...bless the time with your little man. It will all be worth it after the baby's born, but I feel ya: I'm not a happy, pregnant mama, either!

Mommy Emily said...

oh friend. my heart dropped when i saw what had happened to your journals. may God restore, may he lift you up, may he redeem... and may he make your words and your art even more powerful, even more full. resurrection. we serve a God who rocks at second chances. i pray that for you.

Nancy said...

Hello! First time visiting you here from emily's. As I was reading, I kept thinking, "Lord, don't let her compare her pregnancy to anyone else's. Please keep her from thinking about things she thinks she should be doing and feeling less than. Please surround her with a sense of your loving presence."

Never been pregnant, don't know what you're going through. But I know God, and I know he's with you in this.

And those journals? I understand the grief; truly I do. I remember author Elisabeth Elliott once saying, "All that was ever ours, still is," by which I think she meant, God will allow you to hold onto what he wants for you to hold onto from those books.

Looking forward to getting to know you better. Grace and peace to you.

Britt said...

so i read your comment above mine on sarah markley's blog about losing things and i had to click over to your blog.

first of all, let me tell you that I am soooo sorry for your loss. you are right, it has to be mourned. these are pieces of your heart washed away.

but what i see... is so beautiful.

let me preface the beauty part with a piece of my own story. i've really never shared this with many people but here i am sharing it on a blog to a complete stranger. but that's only because i know you'll understand. we share a theme of loss and the beauty that is to be found in Christ's redemption beyond it.

a couple years ago i came into a strange time in my life. a time where i needed to leave the past behind and move on. and all of a sudden out of no where, God moved me into a time of cleaning out in my life. i mean deep, deep cleaning. as hard as this was to clear our items and things from my life, I thought I could not be hearing God correctly when I felt burdened to get rid of years and years of journals.

i write, it's how i process and cope and understand the world. these journals had been my lifeline, they have been my soul, they had been the deep crevices of my heart poured out across the pages that only God and I know. and all of a sudden i knew that God was calling me to let them all go.

after much Godly counsel and prayer I stepped forward in one of the most difficult leaps of faith of my life. with far more questions than answers i followed where He was leading.

it would have been impossible to just throw these words away; to throw away my heart. so in one sobering night, one of my best friends and i sat around a fire until the wee hours of the morning, and set journal after journal ablaze. until all that was left were the spiral bindings and the ashes of years and years of my heart.

i think i burned 12 full journals that night. literally, 6 years of the most intense time in my life. i still don't understand much from that night. however God has continued to reveal himself to me and create "beauty from ashes" (Isaiah 61:1-4) and i know that is what i had to do.

as i look at the washed clean pages from your journal there are still pieces of you all over those pages. marks and lines from what was, and what still is there. it took me a long time before i could write again. but i believe that His promise to me is that He will rewrite the words, better than they ever were before.

i know that is a time in your life that you will never get back. but know that those words, your heart, is still there with you. the pages may be blank, but the words are not. they are written all over you; within you; across the pages of your life.

i have no idea why i decided to share my story for the first time to a stranger, but i imagine i happened upon your comment for a reason. i hope that my experience can bring a small amount of comfort to yours. may you find strength and peace in Him when you are ready to write on paper again...

www.b-b-g.blogspot.com

Alex Headrick said...

"but oh, the journals. i will save them forever, even though most of their content has been erased. maybe that is grace? all that time of writing down stream-of-consciousness, both beauty and frustration... this gives me a chance to start over. wiped clean, if you will. maybe i'll even redeem those (emptied) pages into some art sometime."

Just a thought, but I noticed how those wiped pages with nearly unreadable etchings are now kind of rainbow colored...wiped clean of storms of words and thoughts. A promise maybe, like the one after Noah's flood....there's just something poetic there.