nothing worth regret

this morning, i was up early…cajoled an unwilling short-fur pup that he should go out in the snow YES the cold snow…made an incredible pot of coffee with aromas wafting up to my studio right now…and smiled.  i smiled myself to sleep last night, intentionally.  i acknowledged the crisp, clean sheets scented with lavender.  and i thought of funny things as i drifted off - scenes from favorite movies, scenes from slices of my life (the mantis, the llama rodeo) as i lay swaddled in the perfect down quilt, with Henry's head against my neck.  i slept more thoroughly than i have in weeks, months, forever.  i wrote an inspirational speech in my sleep, and delivered it to 150 nervous women in a rustic playhouse in the woods.  strange.  i went shopping with a long lost friend and we bought some horses.  then i woke up early and cajoled Henry outside.
My house is filled with the excitement of a new bathroom vanity, lying gap-toothed, in the middle of my livingroom awaiting some strong arms to carry it upstairs where installation is hoped to go like a charm.  yes.  and "ha."  i poured some of that awesome coffee and came upstairs into the studio.  husband is finally home for a few days and Henry can find care there,  i left the lights off, preferring nature's show through my wall of windows.  but i stopped suddenly.  there, on my new leather couch, lay drawers and marble counter tops and sinks and wooden pieces.  pressing into the leather.  sitting where i do my meditation.  my sacred space.  with no thought to ask "is it okay."  i felt at once childish and also violated.  there is no reason for this stuff to be up here now anyway…it could be resting by its base in the livingroom.  i felt my day shattering, and a good crawl back to bed in order.  then i opened this email:

there's nothing worth regret, Linda.  Absolutely nothing.  Ever.

Same for fear, anger and worry.  Let em go, rise above, get down, move on.

They aren't worthy of you.

and my blood pressure went down a bit and i saw the childish act for what it was.  i moved the heavy stuff to the floor and i moved on to my work table, which by then had the creamiest light swashing over it.  and i declared it a sacred space.  and i declared my heart a sacred space.  and i got to work making art.