How ya feeling?
How many times a day do we get asked that question?
And how many times a day do we actually sink into the question, sense, discern and become conscious of the actual way we feel – and then, risk the truth of transparency in our answer?
I get to feeling kind of awkward when someone asks me how I am and I know they don’t want to really know.
I have a moment of wondering if I should reach for my truth anyway, or give them the finey-shiney answer they are expecting.
Or maybe I make the inner call that I don’t want to risk anything with them beyond “Fine.”
I might decide that they can’t handle my truth, or they are not really interested. Maybe I don’t want to be known by them.
We make instantaneous decisions about who we are – and who we are not – going to reveal ourselves to.
Who hasn’t been told to keep her feelings to herself?
Too much, too loud, too emotional, too intense?
We restrict our true feelings to conform to a culture that does not understand, appreciate, or acknowledge the ever-changing, ever-unfolding inner life of an emotionally healthy woman.
And by doing so, we restrict ourselves.
Driftwood. Heard of it?
At the School, driftwood is what we look for whenever a woman is in the process of conjuring or creating a desire, but the desire isn’t exactly here yet.
And – as far as I can tell – this is nearly all of the time.
Because there are always desires, and there are always different desires moving towards us.
As women, we are always on our way to some new and perfect desire.
This period of time, in relationship with a particular desire – when you haven’t gotten what you want yet – can be treacherous. Mama wants what she wants, and she wants it now. Right?
How do you keep your enthusiasm?
How do you keep your trust and your belief in yourself that the desire you’ve been longing for is indeed coming toward you?
I am the middle of an overhaul.
An oil change.*
Necessity, she is my mother.
My girl is in 11th grade, and she doesn’t need me in the same ways she used to. We are actually going on our first college tour next weekend.
I have separated my home and office for the first time, and I am cultivating new friendships and rituals. Sally and I now do a workout and steam every Friday morning. Yes, I make time for that.
I am finding a deeper, purer, truer voice in this next book I am writing. Even more exposed, more true to my calling, more me.
And with this reinvention, I am finding that I can lose my sense of groundedness.
I am flying with enthusiasm one minute, and wobbly as un-jelled jello the next.
I know you know the feeling. How do I know?
Let’s dive in.
I have something I want to talk to you about. Something I am passionate about, and fierce for.
I want to talk about your magic. Your creativity. Your mark. Your way.
About how to take a dream and set it on its feet.
About how sensual magic works.
Magic that every woman has.
Every person has it, actually.
Living magic. The magic of living your life as if you were a continually creating – and recreating – work of art. The magic of taking a stand to live your dreams and desires, on this earth, in your lifetime.
Which is not an easy row to hoe.
Because what is a desire, anyway? continue reading…
Just a love contest
And I never
Now you have another good reason
To spend more time
Many people ask me how I started, where I started, when I started, and why I started The School of Womanly Arts. When something is truly a calling, it has many beginning points in your life, as I am sure that many of you have seen inside your own lives.
For me, one of the early points when I began to hear the call was when I was 14, and my parents took me and my brothers to Israel for a couple of months. I was miserable and I had nothing to do. I could not speak the language. So, I volunteered at the WIZO baby home for orphans and foster children. There, I found a language I could speak. I knew the language of babies. continue reading…