Do you miss a person?
Take that idea and hold it in your heart. Now we’re going to inspect.
Perhaps you just miss the feelings he created within you. How he or she made you feel clever, hopeful or even better as a person. Perhaps she was a creative outlet in which you were appreciated- for your wacky brain, your confidence in creating. Maybe you don’t miss him at all but all the things he provided. Safety, stability, being cared for. Even the person you were when you were with him.
It may be that you don’t really miss who she is as a person, but rather the world of what it meant to have someone there. To connect with and share with.
Really let your heart feel out on all angles, what this miss actually is for.
Next I want you to ask yourself what of that miss, you can supply on your own.
Getting into a comfortable relationship with yourself is so incredibly important but it’s often the thing we focus on the least.
Administer the value on yourself, yourself. Take moments to actually laugh at how silly you are being or how radical you know your mind is. Validate your beautiful existence yourself. If this means making a sticker chart and rewarding each recognition with an end of the week treat? Then do so.
Fill this ‘miss’ void as much as possible. Wrap up love and give that gift to yourself over and over again.
In the end, you’ll find you are much stronger and funner then you thought you were and whatever miss you felt for a person or a place,is less- simply because you’re able to produce the feeling of being cared for, yourself.
May I remind you too, you don’t need someone else to make you better. If you like who you are when you are ‘better’, go be that without the crutch of someone else.
If you can do that, your ‘better’ just got a whole lot better.
Everything isn’t art to me. It might be art to somebody else. And I respect that.
I look at a pile of rocks and I see a pile of rocks.
I haven’t trained my eye to see beauty in stuff like that.
When I see laundry on the line and it is blowing in the wind,
when I see a moose in the clouds or the shape of a truck my son has drawn,
it makes my heart twinkle
and I consider that feeling, art.
If something can give me feelings other than what I was feeling, it’s art.
I feel, more so than I see, art
and that’s why everything I see, is not art.
You realize new things all the time. Sometimes you ignore them. Sometimes you can’t.
Sometimes deeper inflection means more new things.
I used to be a giggle, life loving, small things make me laugh loud, person.
It got crumpled over the years and now, looking back I tend to feel sad at the loss of that characteristic of me.
But as it turns out,
I am in charge of my self.
I really can promote that type of easy happy. Just by changing some brain thoughts.
I realize that over time I have gotten more conscious of my little springy happiness and thought it to be childish. But now I know that those are the things that do make me happy and without them, I lose a big chunk of self. And losing a good part of self, is a sadness.
I dont’ feel 27. I still feel 20. And that is where the imbalance comes from.
I shouldn’t care about what others thnk anymore. Because it’s wrecking my life.
So I shall now walk into my days with a silliness, a goofiness that I’ve tucked away in trenches. Because that’s the kind of happiness I am good at creating and being around. That’s the me that I need to live.
The clicking heels level,
where smiles burst out of ears and paintings of delicate holidays
are falling out of mouths.
Hugging until the clouds part;
to taste the moment while it stays.
A launch that lands on lips,
a launch that has clothing talking to the floor.
And these are the paintings we create.