1. What might make me better join with myself to support my creative efforts?
2. Do I feel on my own side? If not, what can I do to change that?
I am drawing a blank. Except that I have been thinking about my past work life and how different things are now than they were in past jobs.
I realized recently that I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep waiting for when I will be "found out". But I have been working for this city for almost four years and have learned that even if I make a mistake I am not pilloried. (is that the right word??) In past jobs I have had supervisors who were always finding some problem, or if they didn't but a commission did, then again it was my doing. In my present job I am supported. The department is behind me, the director and the planning manager are behind me, and so are the other planners. That is, there is a sense of community here, we do not compete. We do not try to find fault but instead work toward helping each other.
This is why I stay here and this is why I am able to do good work here. I don't feel like my work will be picked apart at every turn.
I suppose this goes back to my mother criticizing everything or always finding at least one thing wrong. I do it to myself. I have talked back to myself, have learned that getting a thing done matters more than having it perfect.
Here it is, two days later, and I haven't finished this.
I think it's clear that what I need to do is to clear things out of my life that don't matter to me. Unfortunately, right now I don't know what those things are. I do know about the physical things, the clutter. It oppresses me, and I don't need it, and I don't have any kind of "collecting" disorder. My daughter points out that I do throw things out. So I feel that the first thing for me to do is to spend fifteen minutes a day - the Flylady's technique - decluttering. I did it for a while, then slipped up when my roommate arrived. I can get back to it now.
That will help.
I mentioned before that I have found the zen of making beds and cleaning cars. I was thinking about that bed today, wrote about it. I make it every day, change the sheets every week. This is regular stuff for a great many people but it wasn't for me. I've been doing this for maybe a couple of years now. What is so amazing about this is that I do it entirely for me. I love the luxury and sensuousness of slipping into those clean sheets, opening up that bed, every night.
It is a luxury and a gift and something more. It reinforces the feeling that I am worth something.
Similarly with the decluttering. It's for me and it is because I am worth something.
I feel that the biggest block for me is this feeling that whatever I am doing is the wrong thing, that I can never do enough, which ultimately paralyzes me. So I feel that the more I do to face up to that inner voice the better.
Back to an earlier question: do I ever hug that inner child? Yes. I wonder, though, why I still ache so much, why I continue to feel so much of that pain. And I wonder what it will be like when I don't any more, if I will feel an emptiness without it. Part of learning to live differently, I think. Yet I also admit to realizing that this pain is a door to my inner self, a source for my writing.
When I last was writing, I wrote about being a child. I think this is where I need to go again.
Good questions and interesting. I think that thinking about questions like this is repetitive and the repetition is necessary for change, for growth.