1) Finger paint

2) Write a list of 100 things you adore

3) Write a list of 50 things (dream big!) you'd like to do in 2012

4) Try a new recipe

5) Put together an inspiration board

6) Browse a bookstore or the library

7) Volunteer (sure to keep you busy for more than one day, & for a good cause!)

8) Write a poem using a prompt from Writing From Your Wings

9) Discover new music: try 8 Tracks, Pandora, Live365

10) Online quizzes are always fun

11) Decode your dreams

12) Self-portraits! Who doesn't love them?

13) Clean out your closet - after it's all clean and organized, make new outfits from your old clothes

14) Bake cupcakes (blog post about my own cupcake baking coming soon!)

15) Join a swap

16) Meditate

17) Go for a walk

18) Write your own bored list!

19) Create a mandala

20) Have a movie marathon (possible themes: your fave actress, psychological thrillers, movies that involve delicious food)

21) Soak in a hot bath with lavender, then cozy up in a robe and slippers...aaahhh...

How do we get from one path to the next?

I feel like I've been on the same one for awhile now, going in circles perhaps. Maybe I thought walking the same path would yield different scenery, but it doesn't.

I am ready for the new path, open doors, angels ushering me into abundance. I want to be empty so that I may receive.

That means giving all of myself to love and truth. It means believing in yes when the world says no. It means being open to the flow of life and divine direction.

My spirit is anxious, so I sit still and quiet and listen.

_ Every week I rode the elevator to the third floor and waited in the lobby in a wicker chair. Oldies played on a small radio. Despite the music, I always strained to hear the muffles coming from behind the door where my therapist sat and consoled others. I imagined who those other people might be; were they as crazy as me? What were they talking about in there?

At seventeen, I was in the deepest depression. I remember when mom took me to the doctor and I sat on the table with the clean, white paper that made too much noise when I moved. Dr. Lind came in and asked me the standard questions, “How are you feeling? What’s going on? What have you been experiencing?” Then he gave me a paper test and I was to circle what was true for me. Things like, “Have you lost interest in things you once enjoyed?” I scored “severely depressed.” A part of me felt okay about that; it made me different, special in some dark way. That’s all I wanted…to be special.

So every week after I was diagnosed I waited in that wicker chair and flipped through magazines and wondered if I’d cry this time (I hated crying in front of strangers). I remember my eyes wandering around the room, trying to find something to comfort me, to quiet the sadness racing through my veins. I continually found myself staring at a small painting that hung above the wicker couch. It was of two small children playing on the beach. Simple, yet peaceful. I never cared for children, so I wasn’t sure why it was of particular interest to me, but there it was offering comfort while I waited.  

It was only years later that I found out anything about that painting - nine years later to be exact. I was in Tennessee working in a corporate building and sitting in my office, miserable. The image of the painting came to me, after all those years, still offering solace like a best friend or guardian angel. It came to me whenever I was feeling sad, and I was taken back to the wicker chair and the radio and the peace of knowing that someone would listen to my pain.

I decided I needed to own that painting, a print obviously, but anything would do. Since I didn’t know anything about it, I searched keywords – kids, beach, painting. It was called Children Playing on the Beach by Mary Cassatt. So I went to Ebay hoping to find a good quality and affordable print, and the perfect one manifested. It even came in a gold frame and for less that $40! I snatched it, and a few weeks later it was hanging in my art room. Whenever I needed to still my spirit I looked at that painting and my mind drifted back to the third floor where I sat quietly and waited for my therapist to open her door and hug me.

I still have that painting, although it hangs in a different art room now. It still speaks of comfort, but in a different way. Now it hangs like a beacon lighting the way to another chapter in my life. I’m reminded of how my therapist pulled me out of the muck at different times during my twentysomethings. I’m reminded of the hugs and the Kleenex and the blanket when I was cold. I’m reminded of the time I left work and drove to her office without an appointment because I was in such despair, but she saw me anyway. I didn’t hold back the tears that day, and that was okay.

Now I look at the painting and want to give back that comfort. I want to pass the tissue and hug the scared girl sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her legs.

I go back to the time I sat in the car with my mom and told her I was glad I was suffering because it meant that when I got better I could help others with sad hearts and anxious minds. I still believe that, and when I look at the children playing on the beach, I know that time has come.

Lots of things to love and be thankful for!

"A delicious idea comes to me that I will write anything I want to write." ~Virginia Woolf / Jack Kerouac's Essentials for Modern Prose / Organic food (mushroom and bell pepper pizza, yum!) / FLB Alumni / Morning skies that go from plum to dusty pink to orange sorbet / Chocolate biscotti with tea / When Jason calls me his fairy changeling / Late night novel writing / The Sound of Paper / Afternoons in the garden / Full moons and chirping crickets / True happiness / Playing chase with Freddy / Jason texting me, "I love you so much I might explode!" / When you read something and think, that was written just for me / Dancing when no one's home / Random cinder blocks painted different colors / My beautiful friends / Writing crap and being okay with that / Hidden Object Games (so addictive) / The smell of white roses / Dreaming of guardian angels and fairy houses with little puppies inside / Raw poetry / Sun lit fields

This morning I felt a bit of envy. It seems like all the bloggers I read have these amazing, glamorous, & exciting lives, & mine is just…meh. They are writers & photographers & work for fashion magazines & go to glitzy parties & talk about art & books whilst wearing fabulous shoes and frothy dresses. I work in an office with no windows & push paper from 7:45-4:45 Monday through Friday. Ack! I feel bad for complaining even a little bit. I am grateful, I really am & I live a good life, but in comparison it just seems so lackluster. The grass is always greener, right?

Do you ever feel like this?

I think it would help us to write about what makes our lives beautiful.

My boyfriend who loves me dearly & reminds me every day that I am beautiful & loved/family, even when they can be a pain in the butt, they have always been there for me/Freddy, who loves to cuddle & play chase & makes me smile no matter what/this gift of writing & dance & creativity/to live in a city that is still boasting 70+ degree weather in November/co-workers who keep me laughing/a beautiful home & neighborhood to go home to at the end of the day/a way to connect to all the gorgeous souls across the world/my heroes/fairy tales & poetry/music/new possibilities every day/and of course, God & my angels who protect, love, & push me onward.

And now it’s your turn…

Speaking of higher wisdom, God has not sugar coated anything for me lately. I’ve been asking a lot of questions about happiness; sometimes this horrible, mean voice pollutes my mind with, “God wants you to suffer. Who are you to ask for anything? You are not worthy of your dreams & passions, so get over it.” That angry voice has put me in a tail spin over the past few weeks, but The Voice, the true voice spoke up yesterday & gave me a kick in the pants. The conversation went something like this:

The Voice: What would you lose if you believed good things could happen?

Me: Well, if I hoped for good things & then they didn’t happen then I would’ve wasted all that time hoping for nothing.

The Voice: But would you be happy believing in good things?

Me: Yes

The Voice: Then it wouldn’t be wasted.

And then…

The Voice: What if life isn’t about earthly happiness? What if it’s about true happiness? Could you accept true happiness over what you believe would make you happy?

Wow! A revelation to say the least. And then I read a blog post by Janet Connor of Writing Down Your Soul about this very thing. About how life isn’t about getting, but giving; allowing, not requesting. You can read the article here: http://janetconner.wordpress.com/2011/11/08/what-lies-beyond-the-law-of-attraction/

On my drive back home yesterday, I heard one last thing whispered in my ear, “God does not want you to suffer, that’s why he does everything he can to protect you while still allowing you to learn & grow in spirit.”

Like I said, nothing has been sugar coated; there’s been none of this life is easy and you’ll receive whatever you want. That’s what God’s been trying to tell me & my soul has wrestled, let me tell you. But when I stopped wrestling & actually listened to what else he had to say, it wasn’t so bad. No, it’s not always going to be easy & you might not get what you want, but you will get something better. Something true.

Is there anything on your mind, dear one? Spiritually, financially, emotionally? If you want to share, please do. We’re all in this together.