sleeping ghosties

when i first realized i was awake this morning, and before i opened my eyes, in that nether-time when you straddle the Dream world and the Substantial world...in that inkling of a moment, the breath of my thoughts felt like today would be an un-ordinary day. in a good way. i wanted to stay in that moment forever, swaddled in good intention and possibility...but that transfer of care from dream to light is so swift, lest a careless movement leave you forever in the divide. i awoke quite early. all quiet inside...winter hushed outside...the moon just warning the sun it was nearing time to trade shifts...i walked purposely slow, so as not to jar this mood away...down the stairs, the carpet squishing between my toes...cats fed last night needed only water...dog still snoring upstairs...i pour some coffee, go to the couch and watch out the glass wall for the changeover. inside, thoughts and shifts were coming to the foreground...held up for inspection, put aside or tossed out...the strongest desire - to complete an art project i'd begun last week...i worked it mentally for a bit, then, satisfied i was on the right track with my vision, breathed deep and began to meditate. or so i'd hoped. instead, great globby wet tears began rolling down my cheeks. what is this?? i had no desire to dance with my Shadows today. today i vowed i would do anything and everything to fight them down. but no - it wasn't the Dark Cloud veiling over my heart. then what? i waited until the Dust settled a bit, then gently examined what was left. much like in yoga, when you've stretched one side...i hear Clare now - "take a breath and feel each side of your body...what feels different?" and in those dark/dawn moments, with no one demanding anything from me...not even myself...i mourned. i cried for the loss of my art time, soon to come...i cried for the corners of me that haven't reached their potential - where i push them away either in fear, or in carelessness...i cried for opportunities that i let go by...all silent tears sliding, pooling, tracing down my cheeks into the folds of my laughlines and down my chin. and when the tears no longer came, a stillness took hold...and in that stillness, one thought: you are. and i thought I Am...what? and again: you are. so my thoughts began to list all the things i AM. and it's funny...all those horribly scary ghosties that keep us from doing the things we want, or believing the things we ought...it's funny how they start to look not so scary when you look real close at them...more like your brother with a sheet over his head hiding in the clothes hamper, rather than a All-Encompassing Tortured Spirit Who Knows The Truth. ghosties do NOT know the truth. and one of my biggest ghostie was the yourenot...as in You're Not An Artist. and his song sounds like this: "You're not an artist! guffaw. artist's wake up in the morning, slip on black jeans, and black turtlenecks and paint. all day. every single day. monday is sunday is wednesday...no matter. just paint paint paint. you don't even paint! You. Are. NOT. An. Artist. Go get a real job somewhere so you don't starve. go now." and you know, a part of my heart believed it. a part of me even tried to paint. and when that failed, it made that little part of disbelieving heart shake it's head and say I Just Knew It. but this morning, sitting in a puddle with the sun just stretching a bit, beginning it's goodnight to the moon, i realized...the ghostie was just a big bully. and the little part of disbelieving heart had fallen under his spell. i gently led the heart, (and shoved the ghostie/bully)to the window wall where my artwork sits precariously aware that the cats are facinated by it. and i said, See...here...this one was in a museum...and this one won me a grant...and this one was in a magazine...and on we traveled in my visualized conversation. and i explained that sometimes a person, an artist, must weigh their circumstances and needs of their family when choosing whether or not to make art their only source of income...and although i am perfectly willing to once again have a fulltime go at it, i did indeed make promises to another person who is expecting me to honor them. and the art is expected to remain fully accessible until it is Time for it to be expressed. That is my new deal with art. i will soon not have the luxury of Well then tomorrow maybe. and then i told the teeny part of the doubting heart that there is always a time for just a teeny amount of questioning, but that the ghostie needed to go find someone else and that the heart needed to shake it off and join the rest of the team. i know all this sounds so sappy, but it was one of the sweetest moments i've afforded myself in a while. i've been busy beating myself up over wasting time, and smoking, and gaining weight. i've been busy spending endless thoughts over my marriage. i'm the first in line to kick my own self. and this morning as the first beam of sun exchanged places with the beam of moon twinkling off the snow outside my window wall, i realized that I Am. and that is Enough to be. L.