Little Miracles...

I woke up this morning to snow and wind. A lovely combination, actually--especially when you have a nice big mug of coffee with cream. The wind is made even more enjoyable by the fact that we were about to run out of water again. Wind! I have grown to love it. Our water is gravity fed from a well, which we fill by turning on our incredibly out-dated windmill that stands at the top of the hill on the edge of the vineyard. It's quaint, actually. We just weren't aware of how problematic it would be. Or maybe this year the wind has just been exceptionally still. I don't know and I don't care. Mostly, I just love the way the wind makes those blades spin, causing the pump to respond in a miraculous up and down motion.

And with that little description I just need to take a moment and say: Wow, I've missed writing here. I know...I seem say that every time I finally sit down to blog. The the feeling is truly as satisfying as drawing water into a nearly dry well.

For the past 10 days I have been working diligently on bringing order, understanding and growth into my life. After we moved this summer, I got sick and then, before I knew it, nearly 6 months passed and I still hadn't unpacked my office! That in itself seems sort of crazy. I mean, how did my life get so freakishly busy? My business exploded. It has been incredible and yet...well, I was quickly running myself into the ground and the state of my office was driving me crazy.

After delivering my last commissioned painting for Christmas, I hit the much needed "pause" button in order to give my attention to a few behind-the-scenes necessities. Things like paper work and the state of my office, pricing and other works in progress. The change around me has been extraordinary. For the first time since moving, my office space actually feels calm. My cats love it so much, they won't leave and, often, I find myself surrounded by the soft sleeping breathing of my animal menagerie. It is a supremely comforting feeling. It grounds me. Even my collection of found rocks and old wooden crates (which I've converted into bookshelves) feels comforting. I thought I wouldn't be happy until I had new flooring and new cabinets and new this and perfect that. Turns out I was wrong. The things in this room hold warmth. They hold my history. They hold the pieces of me that bring me back to center. The sheepskin thrown across the seat of a chair, the rich silk textiles that I brought back home with me from India, my books, a wedding photo of Vinny and I, the soft glow of lamplight...yes, this feels like me. And it feels good.

Granted, this has been a huge process and I still have more ahead of me. Going through so many boxes and pile after pile of paperwork sort of made my brain feel like it was being dragged across a bed of nails. Now I've moved on to the thing that has given me more fear than anything else: financial paperwork. Wowzers. And it won't stop there.

All I can say is that it's happening. It's finally happening. I don't know what took me so long to finally work up the courage to take control of these aspects of my life, but I am relieved to finally be doing it--even if I have to nudge myself forward over and over again. I hear myself chanting to myself in the back of my head and am impressed by the level of support I give myself. For the most part my brain is acting like my very own guardian angel. Or maybe I really do have a spirit guide sending little whispers of support and motivation. Forward movement requires a bit of discipline and, yet, if there is one thing that the past two years has taught me it is discipline. Along with discipline, what I'm really learning now are the virtues of self-care.

Two years ago I began the Be Brave Project and started on a journey towards a life that I never in a million years dreamed of. These days I find myself in the midst of beginning this journey all over again. It's time to start taking risks again. Not just the little kind, but the sort that makes me feel a few butterflies; the kind that makes my face go a bit flush. Change requires risk-taking. You would think that it would be easier this time around. After all, I've proven to myself that I can make anything happen when I really want it. Oh, man(!)...but it is still so incredibly scary! Brave souls, we need to band together.

These days I am taking it one step at a time. Lots and lots of little steps. In an odd way, even taking time to blog is one of those little steps. This new beginning, it's a package deal. There is something for me on the other side of this--and I'm simply too curious to stop now.

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