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Sign, Sign Everywhere a Sign

12/6/2016

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​"Mimi Grows Wings"  mixed media on canvas paper, 9" x 12".  Available on Artfinder.

Good golly.  This week the universe has smacked me upside the head and been quite bossy.    I mean seriously, now, I kind of half put a question out into the cosmos, asking what to do about a couple of situations, and KABAAAAM!  The answer was there.  And the universal finger was pointed at me.

Now somehow I knew this was going to be the answer.  And deep down, I am ok with that.  I've fallen into a couple of negative patterns of thinking which even the fabulous neural retraining program hasn't yet touched.  And I think they are causing me a heap load of discomfort.

So someone asked me to ask myself, what am I afraid of?  Easy peasy, right?
But when I asked myself, the list was looooooong.  I am afraid of death, pain, being old and alone, failing, zombies, ax murderers, clowns, balloons, being poor, death of loved ones, losing my mind, being hit by cars, being bitten by (insert all animals here - dogs, alligators, lions, snapping turtles, snakes, rats...), tripping while wearing heels, forgetting a speech, messing up a class, embarrassment, being lost,  being boring, needles (oh yeah, I faint when someone removes a splinter for pete's sake), betrayal, confrontation, conflict, war, palmetto bugs, heights and losing love, for starters.

Now for sure some of these fears are long shots.  I don't stress out about potential lion bites every day of the week.  Clearly though, fear is a major part of the human condition, and I am no exception.  But fear is nearly always a state of anticipating something that hasn't even happened.  Living in a hypothetical future.  Not being present.  And fear can become a rut or a pattern we fall into and have trouble getting out of.  And the first step in getting out of a rut is being aware that you are in one. :)

With that in mind, I will march out into the world today, determined to find a new groove.  And perhaps tame a lion or two along the way.
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Here's the blue wild, where
tiny dreamers ride beasts, speak
​ birdsong, hold the moon.

(by poet Mary W. Cox)
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​Art prints available on request
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