The Art Of Slow Living, A Ms Tittlemouse Rat Race, And Sawyers Birthday Celebration

[This was written on June 5, {where it was left in my draft file} Regardless, though, I felt inspired to post it. I hope you glean something from it.]

I've been spending my time in the slow living accomplishments of simplicity, which isn't unlike how I spend most all of my days.

I heard a video from Abraham this morning that set my heart favourably—in a nutshell; it was about allowing and permitting our hearts to slow down. Live in those quiet moments where much of the world thinks we aren't doing anything productive, but in fact, we're focused on living each moment with clear intention. After my son died, I felt this great sense of needing to keep going and not take a break, with regards to my business and writing books, that is. I'm officially {self-employed and a right tax-paying American. A full-time author, illustrator and the breadwinner}, so I was apprehensive that if I slowed down and didn't keep going by pounding things into place with effort and arduous work, I'd somehow lose my grip and feel unproductive. Honestly, that had been my mode of operation for all of my life. And I suppose that even though I now practise the LOA, I still had some of those residual effects on my psyche {in the summer of last year before Sawyer passed}, which, by the way, I think is perfectly normal.

Now, when I say apprehensive I'm not meaning in the sense of being the breadwinner, I'm speaking more so by way of feeling the constant need to work myself to death by all of the action and works I was accomplishing in order to feel that I was a worthy person. It reminds me of when Tasha Tudor said had she felt like her whole life was a continuous effort in keeping the wolf from the door, she'd have been perfectly content to potter and fiddle in her gardens for all of her days. But because she was the primary source of income, she'd often have to take painting jobs that she would have usually passed on. She had an enormous financial responsibility, so she felt the pressure to take everything that was offered {I read that in a book, btw}. I'm sure Tasha felt tremendous ease in her burden as she aged because she no longer had someone barking orders at her to keep the money train continuously replenished. In her later years, she wasn't married, and she could truly make her own decisions. I'm sure that was quite liberating for her, as I've felt a similar experience, now being divorced from my ill-suited ex-mate. However, now that I know better and have created new belief patterns, I no longer struggle with them, which is indeed, very lovely. I have a peace and calmness that now cascades over me. I have learned so many aspects and one that I have become very promising at is being still, and listening to my heart at all times. It feels so lovely to hesitate and give myself that opening for healing and if I don't feel like doing anything but watching reruns of Downton Abbey for a week solid or reading an excellent book for 9 hours straight then I do just that. As women caught up in a rat race like unto Ms Tittlemouse of time consumption, it's so vital to be okay with slowing down and allowing for the filtering that happens when we're still, most notably when someone dies. Not slowing down and halting everything will have a way of creeping back {resurfacing} up if we don't truly process, and that goes for any type of life experience.

I genuinely believe this is the result of so many women cramming their emotions down, thinking they can just keep going. And whereas they will probably be able to sustain these actions for quite some time, they will eventually rise back to the surface. Think about harvesting and canning a season's bounty. A canner lid top would explode were it not for the locking capacity. Now think of our emotions as the water inside the canner. This is the reason for our personal explosions from emotions and feelings we have but continue to hold them inside. Eventually, the top will blow off because we've held stuff in for far too long. This is why we come to blows with others and ourselves because we ignore addressing issues directly. If we treat them straight away, they never escalate to extreme emotions, anger being the greatest of all.

As I was thinking about the timeline of my last book, I thought about how long it's been since The Tale of MerryMaid Scarlette Rose was put out into the world. At first, I was a bit urgent to keep going and held myself to deadlines; however, I learned a valuable lesson one day after meditation. I realised when I placed timelines and deadlines on my books and all things {for that matter} that I sought to accomplish meant that I was attempting to override inspired action and instead focus on works and effort, which feels a bit like pushing a wet noodle. Having another book out at a specific time is no longer a requirement for me. I don't need a book on a list to make me feel that I'm good enough to be a New York Times bestseller. I don't need an NYT bestselling book to know that I'm a worthy and excellent writer. I know already in my heart that I'm an NYT Bestseller. Yes, that is bold and quite a powerful statement to make, and I have not one bit of reluctance in stating it. I know without a doubt who and what I am as well as what I'm capable of accomplishing. We all do if we will love ourselves deeply enough. I am not consumed nor have a desire for validation from others. Is it kind, yes, of course, but not necessary. Honestly, if I continued throughout my life, believing that another person/publishing company or whoever must validate my ability to author an excellent book, I would be emotionally up the creek without an oar.

Many folks have this flawed premise that to be considered an excellent writer by the masses; one must be ranked on a list. I don't agree with this at all. It's often been said that some of the best painters and writers in the world are never popular, nor the beauty and talents of their work realised until their long gone from this physical world. And I very much believe that statement. I am now at peace with my ability to write beautiful books. I've also heard that if one can't seem to find a book that they like, then write one. I'm writing books that I want to read.

I'm extra soft and tender with myself this month. I'm reading lovely Victorian books as they seem to resonate with me so nicely. My gardening, Victorian, homemaking, poetry, Beatrix Potter and Tasha Tudor books are what fuels my soul, keep me uplifted and high spirited. I'll hold with the feelings they send-off. This month is also a month of bittersweet.

{Remember I wrote this last month.} It's the month {June} my darling son Sawyer was born but also the same month he was murdered, so I'm making the most of seeking to find the happy moments. I relish in mothering memories of joy for being able to have the privilege of being Sawyers mother for the short time that was permitted.

I've been planning a little menu of his choice favourite foods, beverages and confections. I am preparing to bake him a big fudge brownie with 25 candles. I want to have the first page of The Tale of Sawyer Lamb painted as a gift, and it'll be my way of presenting and setting in motion his beautiful little storybook. A sweet little story of friendship between two lambs, living happily ever after, delightful adventures and England too! What could be more pleasant and charming? Indeed I believe nothing in all the world!

[UPDATE: I did have a little small gathering with Jeffrey, my folks and me in celebration of Sawyer's birthday which was June 8. We sing songs, brought in a bouquet of red roses, candies, and a brownie, with candles. It was purely magical. I know Sawyer was present relishing in the festivities. I blew out his candles in one fell swoop and made a secret happy wish.]

Most affably yours til my next swim, Raquelxxx