When enough is enough

In a few days I will have lived in Phoenix for nine years. Nine years of yearning to be someplace else, to be someone else, to have a different life. Nine years spent wishing and wasting, nine fewer years left in this life cycle. Nine years closer to what? Nine years further away from an idyllic memory which maybe wasn't so idyllic after all. Nine years spent in a fog of desire, fear, sadness with a few cloud breaking moments.

Nine years of learning a new way of living, a new art form, a new landscape, a new climate. Nine years of new friends, new experiences, a new love affair with a new town, a new desire to make a difference in a place with which I share few common interests. Nine years of wishing sand was surf, heat was humidity, summer was shorter and air was cleaner.

Nine years of relentless heat, soul searching, self realization and reality checks. Nine years older, nine years wiser, nine more years of dreams and desires, fulfillment and disappointment. And now, one day closer to life altering choices and decisions. Minutes closer to destiny and design. Deadlines loom, as well as love, life, laughter and hope, always hope.

Looking for Answers

I haven't posted in awhile, life is sometimes like that, don't know what to say and even if I did, not sure if it's worth saying. Starting to feel the summer funk, it broke 100 again today. So I guess I'm feeling sorry for myself.


Then I read my previous entry. What happened that I lost that peacefulness? How did I misplace the feeling between then and now? Where did it go and how can I find it again?


Does my geographical location really make that much of a difference in my psyche? Or is it a convenient excuse to deny responsibility for my own thoughts and moods? If I am able to leave this place, will I be any happier in a different location? Or will this haze envelope me wherever I go? How much of this is self-imposed?


I have a friend who spent a year searching for home, and like Dorothy, found that home was in her own backyard. We carry home with us in our heart, or so the story goes. If this is true, where can I find the key to unlock my home? Why do I have this insatiable urge to keep searching? Why am I so lost?

I think it's time for yoga again, and maybe a trip to Flagstaff. Clear my head and let the answers flow to me through my higher self. Time to let go again.

Happy Ness

I am happy. Did you hear that? I am Happy!!!! This is something which has crept up on me and surprised me. Those of you who know me know that I have not been Happy living here in Arizona. As a matter of fact, its been one long "Poor me" for the past 8 years. I have been kicking and screaming since the day we moved to Phoenix, and rarely have I come up for air. The closest I came to not being unhappy was the summer I spent in Flagstaff. But when I came back to Phoenix that September, I crashed and burned, and was in worse shape than before I left.
I don't really know what happened to me. I just know that I finally feel at peace. Maybe I stopped fighting so hard. Maybe I decided to go with the flow instead of swimming upstream. Maybe I realized that I am in charge of my own destiny, and feeling sorry for myself won't get me anyplace that I want to be. Maybe during this forced healing period more than just my hip is healing. In any event, I won't question it, I won't analyze it, I won't deny it. I will accept it, and all the gifts that come with it.
Along with peace of mind also comes gratitude. Or, maybe it's the other way around. Maybe gratitude precedes peace of mind. Gratitude for the ability to feel happiness. Gratitude for my long-suffering husband who has listened to my constant complaints, and tried his best to help. Gratitude to my children for doing what they could to pull me out of my well of self pity. Gratitude to Jewly the puppy dog for listening to me rant and rave, and still being happy to see me. And gratitude for the ability to recognize that I am no long unhappy.
Maybe happiness is just the right combination of gratitude and peace of mind, with a sprinkle of creativity added for flavor.

Hiking Beyond the Equinox

The autumnal equinox has just slipped by. Fall is slowly approaching yet is not quite here. The aspen leaves are tinged at the tips with the yellow gold they are so famous for, and the ferns are losing their summer luster as if they, too know the mild days of the season are behind them. The whisper of the gentle wind is slightly breathless as if waiting for the deep slumber of winter.

The aspens follow me with their unblinking eyes, as if to say"Stay on the path, don't wander too far lest you lose your way. Gather what nourishes you, so that you may stay comfortable beneath winter's white blanket. Slow down, conserve your energy and be mindful of the changing seasons."

Yet, amid the ferns and wood, freshly blossomed wildflowers thrive. Their days are numbered, to be sure, but they reach toward the warming sun and drink it in, for they are living in the moment.

I, too am beyond the third moon, heading into the season of change. Will I hold onto the lush green of summer only to watch it turn brown in my hands, or will I stand back and allow the leaves to change into the gorgeous hues of autumn. Will I hold on to what was, or look forward to what may become? Will I discover the wildflowers among the fallen leaves? One thing is certain. I will not rest under winter's frozen blanket until all of the leaves have fallen and flowers picked, for I intend to arrange these lovelies into a colorful bouquet for those who would come after.

Don't you forget about me

My posts have become fewer and farther in-between. Sometimes life is like that, we start something, then put it aside for awhile to rest, like bread dough, only to have it rise up again bigger and better. Don't know if this is bigger or better yet, but thought I would try to pick up where I left off.
The apartment isn't so bad, but it is challenging making beads in the tiny bedroom with a hothead torch. It forced me to go back to the basics and concentrate on form and technique. I like that-sort of like a refresher course. I don't like the fact that it is as hot if not hotter than my garage studio.
I am still trying to find my muse again-to be inspired to create something new-to enjoy the process. It's really hard to work 40+ hours weekly and come home with any energy at all, let alone creative energy. But like attracts like, and if I continue to complain, I'll complain even more.
I am happy to have a place to work, and to have a job which pays me well enough to continue to try to be some kind of an artist. So I guess I will act "as if" and maybe I'll begin to feel it. Then maybe , just maybe, my muse will return.