Piles
January 23, 2006
Before heading down the 154 towards Santa Barbara this morning for my return to LA, I picked up my new glasses. I really love them but I think they are a wee bit tight, as I have a raging headache at the moment that feels instantly better when I take them off. Of course then my vision is not quite 100%, so I’m kind of screwed either way. In any case, I’m feeling rather foggy. I have been a blur of activity since I woke up, but still feel like I’m barely past the start line. There remain many piles around my studio, things to put away, items to unpack.
Yesterday I felt pangs of an old sensation – the anxiety I used to experience over living between two homes. For a long time I got completely stressed out over the fact that weekly commutes up north meant I never got a full week of work in. After much agony – inflicted upon myself and my fiancee – I finally moved into a space of acceptance and have been fine with it ever since. But I think the combination of having such a powerful weekend with eight other women and then having the rest of the week to continue to bask in their energy shifted me back into that old place. That place where I feel like Solvang is my only true home and I’m desperate to keep our house. The place where things are less complicated. I kept having the feeling that I was walking from a beautiful, peaceful path directly into oncoming traffic at the Indy 500. The change felt too abrupt.
Alas, it is not meant to be, as our house will now most likely go on the market even sooner than originally planned. I accept this and am excited that it will enable us to find our own home in LA, but the feelings that came up for me yesterday took me by surprise. It bothered me that what I felt like were resolved issues were re-surfacing. Are things this meaningful ever fully resolved?
So I am back in LA with a headache and what feels like an endless to do list. The drive down was a bit of a wild ride – winds were so bad that when I pulled over to try to take some pictures my car door almost slammed me back into my car. I literally had to lean into the wind, and couldn’t manage to stay outside for more than a minute. I actually felt kind of queasy by the time I got home. Fast forward to now, with a headache that is only getting worse, and you’ve got yourself one cranky Swirly Girl, I’m afraid to say.
I feel like this entire week will be about nothing but getting caught up, that I won’t have any time to create. I know this isn’t really true, but that is how it feels, so I’m just embracing this gripe-fest for all it’s worth. I will say I did feel a warm glow when I walked into my studio to see all the works in progress that are stacked all over the place, waiting for me to finish them. I also got most of the lastest 52 Figments postcards scanned & uploaded and I love seeing the collection of images grow on my flickr pages.
Yes, I’m cranky, but I’m also smiling. I know a cup of tea and a hot shower will make a lot of this melt away, and then tomorrow I get a wonderful gift: a brand new day.
Even if your crankiest of moods you somehow manage to be uplifting! Maybe it’s just the good old Yin & Yang at work here …
Hello Cranky Smiley Swirly,
As someone who can become the crankiest person ever known when change is waiting with its bags, I can definitely empathize! Just remember that YOU created what you’ve had in Solvang, and all that wonderful creativity and courage and joy that you created in that house all goes with you to pour into your next home and life chapter.
And Thank You so very much for mentioning my new site yesterday! What a treat to find out!
(A longer email separately is on the way!)
I love Cranky Swirly Girl! As I read this, I can totally picture you and it made me smile. Not because you’re cranky with a headache but because you ALWAYS make me smile. I hope you’re feeling better. xoxo
ahhhh, crabbiness, i understand this indeed!
i wrote about it not so long ago…
{http://www.leonielife.com/journal/2005/11/spiritual-crabs.html}
i dig that you were smiling even through the crabbiness. it’s all a blessing ~ even when we can’t wear our too tight glasses to see it {i know that one intimately too!}
wishing you blessings on your journey ~
the wild, the windy, the tearful, the creative,
love and laughter,
leonie
who would you be without the anxious thought of leaving the solvang house behind you? can you think of a good stress-free reason to keep the thought?
just askin.
xoxoxoxoxoxo p
cranky….you? ahhh, i just don’t believe it! it is a catch up week here as well. of course i am always playing catch, at least that is how if feels. i just found old pictures from a trip to catalina island about 4 years ago. ohhhh….i loved that trip and i thought of you and what you get to see everyday living on the west coast~
Change so exciting yet so “cranky-making”. But you also seem to be in a balanced place too. I love how you can laugh through this. Selling a house that you love can be a whole lot like loosing a best friend. Be kind to yourself. hugs, jackie
Those crankies hold some wisdom for you, Swirly Girl. They are reminding you of what’s important to you. And it sounds like a beautiful and peaceful sanctuary is essential for your spirit.
You know it exists at Solvang. Because it’s so special, perhaps you wonder if it will exist anywhere else. But as Alexandra said, you created that special place. With your own personal brand of magic, I know that you’ll create it again.
boy, who doesn’t understand the crankies? and it’s always good to show the human side…the side that gets downright low and bitchy sometimes. rest in it because it’s the now.
For the love of Buddha, THANK YOU for saying so when you are in a bad mood!
(sometimes the pressure to only write the “pretty” things can be overwhelming).
“Are things this meaningful ever fully resolved?”
LOVE that.
Don’t know if you experience this: one thing I notice when repeating patterns/reliving old emotions etc. – it’s that the ‘echo’ is fainter everytime I revisit the thing (whatever it is).
I take solace in that sometimes when I visit an issue for the 5 millionth time.