You have to love the fact that my sneakers matched my bike…

For the past week or so I have been battling a viral infection on my lymph nodes.  Every time I say that I get completely grossed out, imagining all sorts of microscopic creatures setting up shop in my throat, reminding me of their presence every time I swallow and feel like my tonsils are lined with barbed wire, asbestos and sandpaper.  The pain and discomfort hit its peak on Thursday, when drinking a glass of water made my eyes water.  On Saturday I started feeling bold and bad-ass and ordered a turkey burger with french fries, but quickly realized this was a rather ambitious move.  You know that phrase about pouring salt on a wound?  It’s true.  Still, the fries tasted so good I would grab a few, chew them, then swallow them down with a mouthful of water.   That didn’t last more than a few bites, but they were still a treat after being afraid to eat all week.

*****

The Girly Show is this Saturday and I am looking forward to a hectic weekend with many beautiful souls in my creative community.  Our house is going to be filled with people and I doubt I’ll sit still at all while everyone is here.  I am finishing up my last few pieces for the show right now, and as I was painting on Saturday morning, I couldn’t help but feel an extraordinary connection to the other artists in the show.  I imagined all of us finishing our work, deciding how they might be arranged on the walls of the gallery, and forming final to do lists in our minds.  I saw an invisible thread connecting us all, and am so excited for that web to tighten around us all this weekend when we finally come together for an event we’ve been working on for months.  If you are able to make it to our show, please come say hello!

*****

Darling Mati had a recent blog entry about an artist named Beatriz Milhazes, and I am now devouring this book.  Her images are wild, whimsical, feminine and filled with color.  I’ve also been keeping An Alphabet for Lonely Children by Amanda Church on my desk lately, referring to it now and then for ideas as well as for no particular reason.  This is a small book of beautiful pencil illustrations, and I love the way it brings two seemingly incongruous experiences together in an interesting way – childhood and melancholy.

*****

I know I have, here and there, referred to an issue in my life that has been immensely challenging and painful.  My having to deal with it directly has, fortunately, been minimal, but I have to say I never cease to be surprised at how quickly I am sent into a tailspin whenever I must confront it for one reason or another.  Last night I realized I have been making a bit too much effort towards staying rational, brave and stoic and I need to create more space for dealing with it on an emotional level.  The thought of this isn’t what I would call terrifying, just something I would rather not do.  The truth is that I am shocked and angry about what is happening and I am not doing myself any favors by trying to shove those feelings aside.  They are going to make myself known one way or another, and I need to let it be OK that, quite frankly, this infuriates me.

*****

In thinking of this situation and other difficulties in general, I am beginning to see a pattern in the way I visualize working through a problem.  It has the appearance of an hourglass on its side, except that the right side opens up infinitely.  When I am on the left side I am where I am and there is a lot of room for a lot of different ways of being, beliefs, values, habits, fears, etc.  As I focus on whatever challenge is in front of me and try to peel away unnecessary and/or unhealthy layers, I move into that tight space in the middle.  I feel squeezed, and am forced to shed anything that is not going to help me move to the other side.  I might be stuck here for a while or I might slip through easily, but either way, once I move through this part of the journey, what awaits me on the other side is wide open relief and a chance to make my way in the world beyond this experience wiser and more deeply rooted in my priorities and values.  Right now I am still in that tight space, but I know I will move through it, and I can already see the wide open space before me.  Knowing that this openness will be there for me no matter how long it takes me to work my way through enables me to deal with any frustration or struggle with a greater level of acceptance.  I know what I am experiencing won’t be permanent, and I know that beyond the muck I will, on some level or another, be healthier.

*****

I am, at the moment, in a weird place of joy and heavy-heartedness.  Many mundane experiences as of late have given me both experiences at once.  Last week my throat was killing me, but the one thing that always made me forget about it was painting.  Yesterday I went on a walk to clear my mind of the gray cloud that was filling it, and the very instant I wondered if I might see a bunny on my hike, one hopped right in front of me.  I saw two more within five minutes.  I have believed for a long time that life offers gifts for us in every moment, no matter how dark it seems, and it is always nice to have experiences that confirm this belief for me over and over again.