commitments

Back in the day, WAY back in the day, a yoga teacher of mine talked about sadhanas, making a 40 day commitment to something, saying that after 40 days whatever it was you started or stopped would become part of your normal routine. I excelled at this. 

I gave up sugar.

Wheat. 

Hot chocolate.

I climbed 10 flights of stairs in my building. 

I meditated, starting at 60 seconds and eventually upped it to 30 minutes a day. 

That's how I started blogging. 

Some of these I stuck with—I still meditate every morning. Others were short term time investments. Some, like sugar and hot chocolate I give up regularly and slowly slip back. Over and over. 

Writing lasted for years. I was working on my last book and was terrified that someone would ask me what my writing process was and I didn't have one so I started a daily practice, starting with those 40 days. Note: no one ever asked. 

I haven't done one of these in a long time. I'm not as obsessive as I used to be and try more for everything in moderation than absolutes. But, rebooting my writing practice feels like it needs me to sign on the dotted line somewhere. I started this blog thinking I'd write every day and then waffled about post 2. But, here I am. 

38 more to go.

letting go

I've been thinking for the past few days about writing again which is something I never thought I'd be writing again. 

I've spent a few slightly sleepless nights contemplating what I wanted to write about. 

I've spent the past few hours cobbling together a post about the nightmare it's been trying to start up this blog.

Deep breath.

Last night my little one asked me to read the paper he'd written on a particular film maker who's speciality (not an official film term) is portraying the minutia, the mundane, the discomfort, the ordinary and how that can bring viewers into uncomfortable spaces. I realized that was what this very first post on GLITTER ON THE INSIDE was—I was turning it into a detail filled nightmare of boring, forcing anyone who might happen to read this post to suffer through the aggravation and dead ends and endless poorly executed barely educational youtube videos and articles I've slogged through.

Thankfully I deleted most of what I'd written and have changed course. 

Truly this is next tack was off the beaten path, which is one of my favorite expressions that my kids roll their eyes at.

Earlier today I had a virtual reading with a witch in New Orleans–for sure the first time I've ever done or written that–and my question was should I start writing again. Writing in the past has been many things - a distraction, a focus, a way to exorcise my angst, educate my community, process emotions and craziness and pain, to work, to feel, to deal. It was often hard. Sometimes it was at the edge of impossible and I didn't end up in the healthiest of places. Did/do I want to open that box and see what comes out? Honestly, I'm nervous. Compartmentalizing works well for me. But in this reading in which my animal spirits were elk, wolf, reversed rabbit, mouse, and reversed badger (don't worry if that didn't make any sense, it was all new to me too), what I came away with was that I am strong, that I take care of people, that I have a powerful voice, but that right now I'm scared and feel like I can't express myself. I mean, nailed it. 

So, I'm dipping my toe in. It's feeling good to put thoughts into words. Good, and also a bit overwhelming, slightly nerve-wracking, and I'm not completely certain this is a wise decision. 

I'm choosing to let go and see what happens. 

NOTE: I also had to let go of uploading the super cute graphic I'd spent a long time designing. Google and Blogger are not easy to navigate. Trust me, letting go of how things looks was HARD. Baby steps.