A Wake Up Call

Looking at this picture I clipped from a video I made last week, I can see I had no idea in a few minutes I was about to learn something about myself that would give me a major wake-up call. Sometimes moments like these are the perfect gift to give yourself. The eye popping moments that shake you to your core, rock you & cause you to feel like you've just been hit by a stun gun. But in actual fact, I opened an early Christmas present given to me by the Universe. It's just what I needed to approach this next year with renewed determination. I'm sharing it with you.

I know I resemble a deer caught in the head lights in this picture, and rightly so. With these festive monkey pants adorning my back side, and bright blue top, I should be considered legally blind. If you are scratching your head, and wondering , "WTFlip are monkey pants?" Go to my sidebar where my Lilyputian Dictionary is. The definition is there, along with other unique words I've "fashion" together. I know I'm not the only one who makes words up.... ahem. Besides everyone needs a custom pair of monkey pants fitted just for them. And on some days, you just gotta wear what makes you happy even if you look like a huge sheet of wrapping paper....

Here's the gift I opened.
To Me, With Love From 2010, and beyond...
Click Here : A Wake Up Call

Testing... One, Two, Three...Testing

Just a quick post to let you know I'm in the new house. My sense of humor has been tested left and right. I'm still under fire. The new house reeks of cat urine. Carpets soaked everywhere. No wonder the owners had every window open, and fans running every time I came to look at the house.

Opie is not here yet--that would only add to the challenge. Cats will be cats when they smell another cat, and Opie has never lived where other cats have lived before. I'm requesting an S.O.S. from the land lady to get this rectified ASAP.

Meanwhile back at the ranch..... I'm wearing a mask and neighbors are wondering if I have the swine flu... Or just want to be a surgeon when I grow up. Can you all see my smile under the mask??? It's still there.

Jumping out of the Tree House onto a Trampoline of Dreams

I have always believed in the power of believing, visualizing, and that our thoughts do effect the condition of our lives. I also know it's hard sometimes for anyone, not just me, to keep energy moving in a positive direction. There have been times in this last 15 months since the auto accident that I've had limited vision or hope about my future, and wondered to the point of immense grief if I would ever be "normal" again or pain free, and, especially, emotionally free from the PTSD.

I've learned PTSD has affected me in more ways than "just getting into an automobile" again. It's nearly immobilized me at times from ever leaving the house again. Isolating myself felt more comfortable than taking a risk to go outside in the world where "something "bad" might happen to me. It all comes down to not feeling in control. And I hate not feeling in control. I fight it, and resist changes that I don't know what the outcome will be. That's why driving on the freeway can be so difficult at times. I can drive myself nuts worrying what those other drivers are going to do next to me.

But other areas I've become more protective about is my personal space, and I realized how important my privacy is to me. Many of you know I live on a beautiful lake, right on the water's edge. I have windows on 3 sides that overlook the water. Huge windows on an entire side that let the light in, and I can nearly see to China out those windows. Nearly... I can see an incredible amount of nature from here. It is like I'm on vacation every time I come home.








My life is about to undergo another change. At first, I felt this change was a cruel blow to my serenity, and my peaceful tree house abode. I share the building I live in with other people. It is a really unique, one of a kind maze of units, each one with their very own distinct layout and feel. I have the Queen's Castle, "The Tree House" [my name for it], the Penthouse. Everyone who walks in here wishes they were me. I mean that. Last month my very dear neighbors who had become like family to me, bought their first house, and moved away. I am still in shock they are gone. Happy for them but sick over them not being a few steps away like they'd always been.

My fabulous landlord [and I do mean he is the best I've ever had--EVER] was able to immediately rent their place which is directly below mine. The new people are smokers. Heavy smokers, and some other things I won't go into detail about but I will say their presence has tipped the nest right out of the tree house for Opie Taylor & I. We share the same venting system. They've been told not to smoke by my landlord [they are NOT complying] and even when they smoke on the deck, it all filters up [I should say balloons up, clouds up, fogs up] to my deck making it difficult to sit out there & enjoy the beauty of the lake.

I have worked so hard to stick to being a non-smoker having kicked the habit mid December 08. I'd quit right before the auto accident, too, but wienied out after a month. Then I was in the accident, and that made me smoke like a train going over the Grand Canyon with Thelma and Louise inside riding shotgun with me. I simply cannot risk breathing in someone's else smoke and being triggered every, single day. I've been heart sick about this. And for the first time since I moved in here, I do not feel like I am coming home. It's become an apartment, not my beloved tree house.

But this has led me to a new revelation. Change can be GOOD!

The real gift of being stopped "dead" in your tracks in life by an abrupt directional change you had no choice over, is that it can appear to be negative, when in actual fact it is the very thing you needed to wake you up to living your life. Really "Living" it. It is a sign I should not be trudging along in the same-old-same-old routine [ruts], and need to be "awake" to gifts the Universe is sending me. I am being called to new things, new places to accomplish my 101 Creative To-Do List, and move me out of the past.

I found a SWEET home in the country that sits on a hill. SWEET! SwEet! sWEEt!!! I'll post more on this after I find out if I've been approved to be the watcher of the sky on the hill over looking the lilies in the valley. Yes, there are lilies in the valley and lining the driveway leading up to my castle in the sky.

Who'da ever thunk it????

An unexpected shift from the Universe, that appeared to be the worst situation, may indeed be the trampoline, I get to jump on to kiss the baby blue sky.

I'll keep you posted!!!! Hmmmm, that reminds me..... I gotta get Opie Taylor a parachute so he can jump out of the nest onto the trampoline. And some goggles.

"Weeeeeeeee".............

Big Splash On This Time Tomorrow

I took a plunge.... This end up... Remember that movie with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, "Overboard"???

"Ohhhhhh.... youuuuu did NOT???"

"Ohhhhh.... yes I did!"

Let's just say I didn't exactly have a graceful entry into my kayak today.... Oh, yeah. I ate it big time....

Good news...

• Water was only waist deep.
  
• My kayak didn't sink although it was a really close call.
  
• No one laughed at me. If I'd have been watching me I would have laughed.... I looked like an edition of America's Funniest Home Videos...
  
• I didn't get hurt.
  
• And two guys fishing came to my rescue. Or rather they sped around to the other side of my island in their boat to get help from one of my neighbors after I asked them to. It was really nice of them to ask me if I needed help (with straight faces...) and they looked like they would have jumped in the water to assist had I merely whimpered. I was close to whimpering...

I chose a spot I rarely use to launch my kayak from. It's the place where the biggest, baddest spiders live. Gulp. I placed one foot on the floor (bed) of the kayak, and nervously looked where I was placing my hand when I should have been looking where I placed my other foot... And kerrrrr splassssshhhhh. Once the train pulled out of the station there was no stopping it. I do remember a colorful word coming out of my mouth. Maybe two....

It was all I could do to keep my kayak from sinking because it filled up with water so fast. My feet sank in sludge...gross sludge. The kind of sludge you don't want stuck between your toes or inside your swimming suit bottoms... But it was that kind of sludge.... Ewwwww!!! Double Ewwwwww!!

I lost a flip flop in the muck at the bottom of the lake. Actually it was a "fit-flop". This may have been when I whimpered. Fit-Flops are expensive sandals that are supposed to whip your butt into shape while you walk. I'll tell you what can whip your butt into shape.... pulling yourself, and a water-logged kayak that weighs about the same as a baby whale out of the water after you've cap-sized.

I am in mourning about the loss of my shoe. I'll bury the other shoe tomorrow. Besides, I can't go around with a half ass firm butt. That's just wrong.

But I got back on the pony... Back in the saddle....

Soggy, wet britches, tee shirt, and all.

Minus one fit-flop.

Plus one kayak full of "Ohhhh, YES I can!!!!

The Duel between the Perfectionist and the Procrastinator. Maybe this time tomorrow I'll have it all done....

Somehow I think this may be a hard task to finish or accomplish or keep that way. I believe the perfectionist in me will lie to the procrastinator I'm trying so hard not to be. And the procrastinator will always want to take a nap if it isn't perfect to begin with. And so my journey creating my dream studio begins...... here are some before pics. The after pics will have to happen after it's finished. LOL




First project on my list is my studio. I'm beginning to believe a studio is a work-in-progress, too—just like me. I've only just defined a space as the home for my creative treasures, well, a physical storage-work space.

My brain is my permanent house for my studio. It's taken me awhile to figure out where to set it up and I have had it in a few places—but never finished.

I live in the perfect place for creativity. On a lake—actually on an island. I have had to deal with some rough places as a studio space in during my life but my challenge here on the lake is I have too many places to set up my studio. Challenge? Yes, too many choices can be hard. Too many places to get trapped in perfecting the spot instead of perfecting the craft. There's such a thin line between procrastination and perfecting something. I can get totally stuck in the getting everything just right before I can cut myself loose to start playing. One of these days I'm going to just cut loose and play anyway... (see I'm procrastinating)

My boyfriend, Superman, just helped me tremendously this past week. I needed him as a sounding board. I pointed out all the pros and cons of various locations to set up my studio in the Tree House (what I call my home). All had potential, promise, and all posed problems. All had bits and pieces of my art supplies strewn about like clothes in a teenager's room. Well actually kinda like my bedroom. (hehe) He liked my ideas and told me they made sense. I needed some validation. I also need a strong arm... He gave me some guide lines to work under. If it is not creative—it does not belong in my studio. Sweet! I can work with that.

Here's my usual pattern. One room, one space in my world has always been the dumping ground, the holding tank, the clutter catcher, the junk room, the room you keep the door shut at all times and pray no one stumbles upon it looking for the bathroom, “Fibber MC Gee's closet”, my shame, my lack of perfection. My nemesis. My undoing. The proof I do not have things together. I am and always have been very hard on myself about this. It seems if I had it all together, I would be perfect but to get there everything must be perfect. I hear screaming.... Oh, never mind... it's just me.

Plus, I do a bit of hoarding. Holding on to things, so to speak. “I might be able to use this sometime.” Sentimental alley. Broken babbles, and stacks of papers. I do not know how to toss things. Throw it away? Yikes!!! I have dried out paint bottles for heaven's sake! Scraps of paper that was trimmed off of something. Buttons that belong to a pair of pants or blouse I no longer own. It's a cluster fuck in my mind and world. “What if I need this?” “How could I use this?” This is a project waiting to happen.” “Wow, that would make the perfect ____, or _____, or you fill in the _____. Blankety, blank....

I have stood in the middle of one of my storage tanks of creative possibilities and been so overwhelmed I left the room, garage, etc., and took a frigging nap. I've turned in circles like a ballerina with no choreographer. My toes are raw. My mind is weary. Where do you start??? I need the peace of finishing a room, especially my creative space. It's usually the place that sits in the most chaos, and it's the place I need to be in the most to heal. I want a studio where I know where everything is. I can reach for a tool I need. I can walk in and simply begin creating.

I just want to paint and maybe that's the trick to all of this.... Just Do IT!!!