I wouldn't so much call it burnout: that sounds too simple to name what this passing year's gift has been.
There was some frenzy in it, some high peaks of boundless energy and deep lows that ended in some sort of malady or freeze, putting me out of commission for days and days.
There was the fear, the bone-crushing fear as sales dropped and I wondered about my path or purpose
forgetting that it had already changed to include a job so big I won't really ever finish it.
And oh my heavens the LOVE. From friends, family, new souls I am owned by, souls departing and winking from The Mystery...so much love.
Two thousand and twelve schooled us down to the cells and here we all are, about to graduate toward another year with all its possibilities and growth rings poised to etch themselves in our flesh.
The realization has been dawning for some time that things need to change here in this body, that more tenderness and pause needs to find its way into these days somehow so help me God!
This January I am going to offer a few pieces in both shops toward the beginning of the month (think sweet winged things!)
and then four custom slots for the metal shop because I miss the art of bowing to someone else's wishes,
I really and honestly do
I am going to do a creative reset.
21 days of journaling and exploring in order to find some balance and equilibrium. 21 days to a new habit of gentle and fierce.
I wish for you to join in if you are so inclined: I will be posting the daily instructions here for myself and for anyone who wants to walk with me.
I will be creating a Facebook page (more info to follow) for anyone interested, a safe place where we can share our thoughts and experiences and do a fun swap at the end of each of the three weeks: knowledge, supplies, tendernesses.
There will be some recipes as well, because when things start unfurling I tend to hit the kitchen like what(!).
Orion and I are going to comb through the city and sleep during naptime and read and write (well I will, anyway!) and the grand hope is that on the other side there is a self driven not by a ceaseless cracking of some invisible whip
but instead that there may be room
in which to fall apart a little, lay fallow and bloom again when the season is right.
Who's with me?