Thursday, October 7, 2010

this is why I live here.

Sometimes I'll be driving to work along the lake and I just go, "Oh RIGHT. That's why I'm here." Mists like this. Mornings like this.

I'm working on a post about the dinner party. (I've got the photos uploaded already, into a post. Now I just need a nice solid half hour to hour to sit down and write text. That could be tomorrow evening.)

I'm working on a post about the writers' festival this past weekend. (Photos on my computer from my camera, and ideas in my head.)

I'm thinking, always thinking, about ideas for posts. On: trusting. On: confidence. On: photography, and how I want to learn much more about it. On: time and how we make it, carve it out, for the things that are important, but sometimes you don't have a choice. Sometimes there just isn't any time left to carve out of. On: how much to listen when people tell you what they think of you.


It feels like things are sort of settling themselves. I have a bit more time now that I'm only working one job, but weirdly not a lot of extra time. I notice it mostly in my evenings, in having an extra couple of hours at home. But it seems like it's true that nature abhors vacuums, and stuff rushes in to fill those hours. Will I walk? Will I cook supper? (Instead of just eating sliced tomatoes, cheese, mayo and corn chips. Oh man, I could eat that for every meal.) Will I write these letters to people, will I do some creative writing, will I prepare a blog post? Will I talk to people on the phone? Watch a movie with my family? Just lie on my bed with the cat? Sort out my finances? Shave my legs?

You get the idea.

Yoga is back, it started this week. First class was Monday. Tonight is the second class. How is it possible to both dread something and love it? I kind of hate going, in a way, and how much we have to push ourselves while we're there. Every moment thinking "Oh lord I can't keep this pose up any longer!! AHH! This hurts! My thighs!" And yet when I'm done I feel so strong. So good. Just walking into the room on Monday night, unrolling the mat and sitting down, felt GREAT. Like, "OK, back to it. Bring it on."

I also feel like my confidence in myself has really dropped. I wonder if that's to do with being tired, and if it will come back with rest? But for example, even as I type this, I can feel these little gremlins, voices in my head - Not good enough, who do you think you ARE, typing out your stupid blog, who cares? Et cetera, over and over. 

I also wonder if it has something to do with committing more time to my creative self, and the ego sort of rises up in defense, rising up in proportion to how much I am valuing myself more. It's like it's fighting back.

Part of me - the unconfident part - wants to end this post with, "Well, I don't know. Maybe that's how it is. Maybe not."

But in the spirit of wanting to become more confident - wanting to truly believe in myself again (if I ever did, truly?) - I will end by saying: no, that IS how it is. For now. My experience, my truth.

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