10 Ways I am Mean to Myself:
1. I allow others to waste my time.
2. I don't eat properly.
3. I don't exercise.
4. I don't get enough sleep.
5. I avoid conflicts with others, though I seethe.
6. I won't let myself give up the damn job I hate.
7. I allow the negative opinions of others to lessen my self-esteem.
8. I resist Artist's Dates.
9. I postpone my own pleasure until "everyone else" is happy.
10. I procrastinate by doing the "shoulds" before the "wants" (i.e. sometimes I spend so much time getting ready, there is little time left for execution).
This week's work was a wrestling match. Either Julia Cameron addresses two unrelated issues, or I'm just not seeing the link between the two: accessing the Creator's abundance, and demanding time for oneself. I thought the week was pretty meaningless and assumed everyone else would feel the same. Shows how much I know; it seems to be the most meaningful chapter so far for several of us.
Debra seemed somewhat irritated by the message and I felt the same. I suppose Cameron is doing a check-in of sorts on all aspects of our lives. However, while visualizing where we'll be when we're 80 might be good exercise, the persistance of such exercises seems overworked. I live the life I chose, and for the most part I live the life I want. There is much I would like to change, but I've been unsuccessful in my attempts, and it gets less likely that I will change them as time goes on.
Does this mean I live a life of quiet desperation? Sometimes. Is it unbearable? No. Is there a blessed thing I can do to improve it? No…believe me. Do the benefits of status quo outweigh upheaval? You betcha. About the only principle of AA that I understand and agree with is the Serenity Prayer—I know what I can change and what I can't change, finally, and I have the wisdom to know the difference. What I also know is that I am about all I have the power to change. So I work on being the most complete Me I can be, within my parameters, just as I think we all do.
Like Tracey, I was put off by the urging to ask for unlimited material possessions. Believe me, I'm a Material Girl, but I'm Puritan enough to feel uncomfortable about praying for personal gain. But I read Hilda and Pat's views and I agree with them too! (See the theme of confusion here?)
The section I had absolute clarity about was the issue of wanting to be left alone.
For an artist, withdrawal is necessary. Without it, the artist in us feels vexed, angry, out of sorts. If such deprivation continues, our artist becomes sullen, depressed, hostile. We eventually become like cornered animals, snarling at our family and friends to leave us alone and stop making unreasonable demands.
Recently at a family gathering, one of my little nieces was being excessively needy. I watched my sister being pursued by her whiney child, when suddenly she whirled on her daughter and said, "Stop following me!" We both laughed at each other, and it became a joke between us because we both sooo need to be left alone! And we both sooo have these needy people around us who are driving us crazy with their demands, or their whining when we ignore them.
Most of my creative block is pure frustration at having so little time to give to my artist. That which I do give to her is the left-over parts of the day when I'm tired and really ought to be getting some sleep. I learned well and early the lesson of the over-tired young mother: If you can just get everyone tucked in for the night, the house is yours, the quiet is yours, the freedom to do whatever you wish is yours. Today, I continue the pattern of staying up later than I should, not giving the best effort to my sewing but desperate to feel cloth in my hands and pedal under foot, even at the cost of a good night's rest.
Some of this is due to needy family; most of it is due to working 4 days a week. I gather from this group's blogs that many of us are stay-at-homes, or those who aren't, don't have domestic demands in the evenings. But most of my creative time is what's left at the end of the day. I don't have young children to care for any more, but my needy husband who has never found a way to fill his retirement days expects a large chunk of my attention at the end of the day. While that may not be unreasonable, I begrudge giving it. Fortunately his body clock is that of a farmer, so bedtime comes early for him. I find myself repeating that long-ago cycle of stealing renewal from the late hours.
Julia Cameron acknowledges that making these people "stop following me" will indeed annoy them, but the pay-off to me will be worth the whining. I don't know how adamant I am willing to be, but at least I am assured by her that I have that right. I might even test the waters at work regarding having TWO days off each week.
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4 comments:
If you hate the job anyway, and you don't "need" the money enough that you could reasonably work only 3 days a week, I say go for it. All they can do is say no - and if they do, perhaps it will push you to look for some place that will let you work 3 days instead of 4?! However, how much of that extra day off will your retired husband want your attention? If it still pushes you to work after hours, maybe you need another solution. Just playing devil's advocate here for a moment.
When I dated my 1st husband, I told him not long into the dating relationship not to expect me to go out with him Friday and Saturday; that one of those days I had to sew. At first, he was taken aback but then he began to schedule guy activities on the evening I was sewing. He was also the same man who was informed that I would always have a place to sew in any house we owned (even if his hobby stuff was out in the garage) & because he knew "the rules" he always accomodated those wishes.
The advantage is that I started out with a young dog. Can you teach your old dog some new tricks? Probably.
Very perceptive, ladies. Pat, my dilemma about working 3 days a week is that I AM afraid the extra day will just get taken up by my needy husband. I may be better off to be out of the house and picking up extra money. My job is not hard--it's just a marking-time enterprise, and I would hate most any job at this point.
Debra, you point out another difference between most of the group and myself. I didn't START OUT as a quilter so he wasn't properly trained from the get-go. He is not amenable to learning new tricks, and effects of aging are beginning to creep in too.
It's significant that his mother was an obsessive (says he) quilter/needleworker. (She had 3 boys and I think it kept her sane.) When I took up quilting he was tickled and often mentions how much she and I could have shared. He speaks with pride about her work, but he's always complained that she wasn't a good housekeeper. (Once I started quilting I had an "Aha!" moment about why she wasn't a good housekeeper.) In his worst moods he accuses me of the same. (1. Not true. 2. I'M the one working OUTSIDE the home; HE'S the one jockeying a recliner all day, who also happens to think he's the world's greatest housekeeper--HE should do it.)
His initially hostile response to my plan to create a studio was about being a control freak who thinks the only good ideas are his ideas. His cracks about my obsession are about his jealousy of the enjoyment I derive from something other than him. I wonder if my quilting is a hot button for him because of his perceived neglect by a quilting-obsessed mother. How's that for dime-store psychology? (Now that I think of it, how's that for some sort of synchronicity--or karma--for him? A poor-housekeeper mother who quilted for the church bazaar all the time, and now a wife who wants to quilt all the time!)
Thanks for your always-encouraging words, Gemia. Even at my age it's nice to have validation.
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