Ok, so I'm still on the "doing it anyway" week, on my Brave Girl Journey; a class that I think shows the true colors of my black and white world. The premise of the class is to work on these big hairy issues that have basically held you by the neck and thrown your life into a Tizzy.  I'm behind, which is just fine, as I don't care too much about the time line, as I know these are big chunky monster-things that can't be tamed in just one week.  I actually didn't get it at first, then when I was taming my 13 year old daughters Freak-Out , I caught myself saying "ya know Georgie, it doesn't matter if I know the right thing to do is hard or embarrassing.  In your heart of hearts, if you believe it will be right...just do it AnYwaY!  I think I stopped in the midst of this teen age debacle and said a lil' hand-to mouth  "...oh!"
Sooo I started to think hard about this lesson, and decided to... you know what I'm gonna say,  (altogether now!)...Just Do it Anyway regarding my health issues.  I need to be healthy in order to fight these battles that I had to have with my 13 year old - over and over again.  The wish for me to be this incredible woman and mother only happens if I'm alive, so I'd better get over it.  The Universe complied with my wish, and after a torturous couple days at work,  I landed in the hospital with a mini-stroke. It's called a T.I.A or Transient Ischemic Attack, My blood disorder is all about keeping the protein levels low so my blood runs nice and thin, doing all that it's supposed to do.
When I drove myself to the hospital, it took every ounce of me to sit in my car, for one thing.  Having never met the creator of this class I'm taking, but seeing her face and hearing her little cheerleader voice on the videos, I just heard it blaring Just Do It Anyway in my ear, her voice, though loving and honest, was something that I didn't want to hear -like fingernails on a chalkboard, I've gotta tell you! Four hours later, the docs gathered that's what it was.  The beginning of Beet Juice, and leafy greens, the end of chocolate bars and lattes.  sigh.
I know, as somewhere up there, I am here for a reason, so I'm trying not to deal with the fact that my insurance did not cover this nice E.R visit.  I am just holding myself, hugging myself and knowing that my body took over when I, myself could not utter those Just Do It Anyway words. 

Aha moments

I've been spending this week on the roller coaster I have constructed for myself out of pain, guilt, loss and glued it together with bad country songs.  I let it guide me up and down these emotions, going from pain and heartache to actual Bliss.  Yes, I said Bliss.  I'm continuing with my Brave Girl course, and though it's daunting to sit at my very lonely jewelry table and say hello to all the tools that haven't been touched in forever. I'm starting to take baby steps, sitting longer, actually starting to sketch again, pick up my wire again. The longer I let myself make something without harsh criticism, the more I want to sit here. I am starting to give myself permission to say  I am enough! The kids are off on holiday with their father, so instead of stew about that, I can churn and burn out some stuff.  I think I can, I think I...
I've had these bittersweet moments before, where I recite my positive mantra when my girls leave on vacation with their dad. Then I get out that familiar 2 x 4 and whack myself in the head for not being able to take them anywhere tropical or amazing.  The most colorful place they've gone with me is a white sale at Target!  I say those familiar words "I'm a great mom"  and "in 20 years they won't remember the material stuff".  I know in my heart of hearts in 20 years they won't care about that like I do right now. I'm nuts about them and they are nuts about me.  So why all this crap I throw on myself about this material chit?  Isn't this the very thing I ran from in my marriage? Then why the hells bells am I craving that for them?  Silly Girl.
So...this big shift of process is happening from sheer Connection.  Connection to my little girl that I lock deep inside, letting her come up for air now and again, but that same girl that was locked away when was a Real little girl needs to come out of the closet.   I used to hide in a closet and draw and draw and write poetry.  Now I'm envisioning myself slowly open that yellow door, crawling out of my hidden art space, and color and paint and create until my eyes pop out!