Sunday, July 30, 2017

What I want for my 70s

This is the first year of my 70s and I've been dreaming up all sorts of things that I want for this decade.
  1. Write 7 more books.
  2. Help people free themselves of addiction.
  3. Heal my relationship with my child selves.
  4. Lose another 35 pounds. 
  5. Come into a fuller understanding of myself as a woman.
  6. Share my experience, strength, and hope in many ways. 
  7. Paint outrageous abstracts. 
  8. Become a fine poet. 
  9. Build a much deeper connection with Spirit. 
  10. Fall in love with contentment.
  11. Live from a curious mind and a generous heart. 
  12. Cultivate sobriety and abstinence.
  13. Be a sought-after speaker and presenter. 
  14. Walk through my fears. 
  15. Simplify to serve my passions and purpose. 
  16. Always assume everything is working out for me. 
  17. Make a ton of $ so I can give away a ton of $.
  18. Encourage creative self-expression in thousands of others
  19. Become a major blogger on recovery.
  20. Build a sustainable, inspiring art practice. 

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Bright Line Eating Boot camp Coupons

I have some $100 off coupons for the bootcamp. If you'd like one, email me at jill@lifebetweenmealscoaching.com.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Loved this quote from Christiane Northrup

"Forgiveness means no longer letting your past be your reason for not thriving in the present."

Thursday, July 20, 2017

What if we already have enough of everything?

Most of my life, America has been a culture of acquisition. We don't have the homogeneity of some cultures whose millennia of a shared past create a strong bond in tradition or whose national systems of education teach everyone the same things so that there's a bond of knowledge. We are a country of different, shifting groups and ideas glued together by geography and bureaucracy. Instead of a reliance on the old to understand each other and how we are, we focus far more on the new and what we have to relate us to each other.

Shopping is one of our biggest pastimes and in order to keep that endlessness going, we're encouraged to focus on what we don't have. This makes us restless and bored rather than satisfied and contented. And for many of us, that's at the heart of the stress we feel.

It occurred to me recently that I could step out of that cycle. That I could take on believing and acting as if I have enough of everything already, right now, in this moment and in this next moment and in the next. Enough stuff, enough money, enough time, enough energy. What might happen to me? What might happen to you?

Saturday, July 15, 2017

The courage to keep singing

The conference hotel
by the Bay
had a lovely walkway
along the water

One morning 
I followed it to the end
not far from the airport's runway

On a signpost sat a tiny bird
singing his heart out
in the cool mist of early day

I stood and listened
to his courage, his spirit,
as every 45 seconds
a jumbo jet took off
and drowned him out

He went on singing
and I saw in his fragile self
and heroic determination
all of us who want to save the planet
and who go on singing for survival
in spite of the deafening sounds
of corporate greed

Monday, July 10, 2017

Breaking the work first/play later habit

I'm on a quest this year to create a sustainable art practice that fits my life. Because I'm slowly reducing the number of paid projects I'm willing to take on, I'm freeing up more time that should make an art practice easier to sustain. But I'm continually bumping up against another very long-term practice that's proving hard to shift: getting all my work done before I can play.

Between the Protestant work ethic I grew up and parents who praised tangible, practical productivity, I find it hard to go into the studio when I've got editing deadlines or other work commitments. Even if I can get myself in there physically, I feel the work looming over me. No problem, you may be saying to yourself, just paint afterwards.

But I'm blessed with work that requires concentration and creativity and after some or many hours of doing that, I don't have the bandwidth, as we say, to get creative in the studio. So doing it first is my best option.

I know that my brain can be rewired. I've done it with other long entrenched habits and I can do it with this. But I guess I just need to whine about it first.  

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

An unexpected consequence of abstinence

I've always been tender-hearted, a sensitive, as we are sometimes called. That may be one reason I drank for so long and then numbed with sugar for more decades after I got sober. The world has a lot of awfulness in it and some of it pains me a great deal.

Last week, workmen spent a day working on two ancient and enormous deciduous trees across the street from me. They form an integral part of my skyline and our neighborhood. I spent the day in grief and terror that they were going to be killed (the old house had recently been sold to a developer) and anger that greed trumps oxygen-producing, shade-cooling beauty and grandeur. My impotence to save them was wrenching.

As it turned out, the trees are still standing akthough minus about 25 feet of lower limbs. I am relieved but cautious. Maybe that is all that will happen to them. Maybe not. I realized in my emotional exhaustion at the end of that day, that abstinence from anesthetic sharpens my feelings. It sharpens my joy and pleasure for sure, and it sharpens the heartbreak. As long as that was an intellectual knowing, I was okay with it. Feeling the reality is something else.