The Art Of Struggle, Creates Art

Good morning dear mermaid hearts,

Did you pour a cuppa? If not, I'll wait.

Okay, you're back?

One must merely allow the moments of discontent to pour and reign over us at some point. I had to allow myself to receive the drenched melancholy of utter displeasure in the previous week.

Allow me to explain. These past four years, in retrospect, I have been quite blessed with my kind parents as they opened their home and generosity to my husband and me when my dear son Sawyer transitioned. They have been nothing but gentle and giving. My sweet dad, then realising I was struggling beyond measure with the pain of loss after losing my boy, offered up and gave me open creativity to use his olde storage shed to fling my sadness at. I felt like I was going out of my mind, and to a degree, I was, and I knew I had to formulate a strategy to heal. If ever I've struggled with hardship, I've designed art, whether that was crafting, sewing, homesteading, painting, or writing; I've always been able to navigate myself back to healing my own heart. These days I’m simply better at transcribing my emotions through writing. I sincerely needed an outlet for my pain. First, I planned to create a place to make YouTube videos, write and paint. I then continued the renovation and realised, oh my, this could become a place to live in, as I began setting up a water pump, a claw foot tub, a stove and even a commode.

That is when I think I began to go off track. Not in the sense that I did anything wrong or I was misguided, but that I think I began forgetting my purpose in why I created the space in the first place. It was to be a unique little niche for me to create, and whereas an olde timey life is a natural result of merely being myself, the cottage's intention was not to be a permanent home for me. It was always meant to be my refuge from the world (whilst I healed from my son's death) as my art studio, the place where I could go to create art of all kinds, whether that was a little display vignette, an illustration, or writing my little storybooks or novel; that was the purpose from the beginning. I might add that all artists, I believe, need and near require a refuge for creating.

“First they watch, then they hate, then they copy.”

As these past few months began and have taken on a new meaning, and I've constantly been evolving (as this happens with everyone), I've shifted once again into growing and moving up the scale of expansion. Isn't that what often happens in life? We start in one place, and before we know it (because if you're anything like me, we all have common tales of woe), we spend so much of our lives attempting to create a place to escape from our pain, and everyone has multiple ways in which to escape. Mine happens to be my surroundings. I have to live in an older atmosphere. I have endlessly been fascinated with the Victorian era. There are other conclusions and facts that I have received as downloads from Spirit on this topic as well. (I'll leave that for another post, though.) Some folks shoppe til they drop, remodel their home constantly, move furniture around, travel, regularly require entertainment, move from one home to another (chronic discontent), extracurricular activities, sexual patterns, and this, that and the tenth. This semblance we create is to escape, which is what children inherently do as a way to disassociate, especially when there has been hefty developmental trauma in childhood. (For example, why I relished in my youth by pretending I was Laura Ingall’s Wilder) and why many women on Instagram have this notion of escaping into a cottage core lifestyle. We are diverse and complex human beings with many facets of emotions, frailties, positive aspects, and everything in between. Yet, most of us pretend everything is pleasing and satisfactory when our hearts know it isn't. Rather than address the elephant in the room, though, we will spend much of our lives running, like I would spend many years before healing and performing copious years of recovery.

I spent my early years looking around at other women (especially on Instagram) and putting on their character to a degree by emulating what they did, thinking if I did what they did, it might strike gold too. But that never works (not for sustainability), and it will never work for those trying to do that now in our present time. Have you seen Instagram as of late? It's a compound effect. Women in their 30s to late 50s are constantly trying to get that hit of dopamine validation, and the more they get, the more they want. And then you have them regulating their popularity and attention as a way to judge whether they will give you the time of day. If you have low numbers, they will not look twice, but the more followers you get, the more they want to be friendly. This behaviour, in my opinion, is a sickness.

There are so many insecure and jealous women on Instagram, and I want to aid by infiltrating and disrupting the system. It's coming to pass as we are beginning to see that mental health and spirituality are not as taboo as it once was, and I am “Taking Joy” in that progress. Please do not misunderstand me. I think it's rather brilliant that we have muses that we look up to, and we are right to find little beauties in each other and steal from them (and when I say steal, one must understand as an artist what I mean when I say steal in that term.) Read the book Steal Like an Artist by Austen Kleon. In his words and definition is what I mean when I say ‘steal’, so let's not juggernaut the meaning. In other words, we are emulating, to a small degree, the lovely little aspects we see in others. Still, then at the close of day, we are and have become the most accurate version of who we are as a person—a uniquely exquisite being that is full of wonder and beauty, with many dimensions.

There's another notion I've arrived at; I'm not apologetic or ashamed to share when I've experienced life dissatisfactions. The valid reason a person cannot share their frailties and weaknesses is that they are internally ashamed, and another reason women cannot congratulate or encourage other women is jealousy. The guilt a person faces or refuses to face creates incredible discomfort, usually as this directly relates to a struggle with vulnerability which is a result directly related to low self-worth and a fragile self-concept.

(I've been speaking about this type of thing for over a decade, and although it's been quite unpopular to focus on a healthy mindset, I'll continue to bang on it until it takes hold and spreads. It is becoming a little more talked about, and yet we have a ways to go. I intend on playing the long game.)

There are types of folks who go about their lives projecting their self-loathing and jealousy onto others. Anyone in their path becomes a target. You can't change what you won't confront, and once a person confronts themselves and faces the person they have been avoiding (sometimes for decades) is not your nor my concern. I say this because I feel an obligation to stand up for folks that have spent years being a scapegoat, mainly in families that have enormous dysfunction. Another form of jealousy masked on Instagram is how many women gather up their discretionary little armies, target, and then alienate by tearing one down because the woman is insecure and cannot handle the competition. This concept is what I'm excited to share on the reality show “Cottage to the Core. It's a competition show. I'm going to show you what healthy competition is, my darlings.

I know there's rarely a household on earth that hasn't experienced dysfunction; however, it continues into successive ages because good men do nothing. I'm no longer participating in this nonsense on stilts, not on my watch. Neither you nor I are responsible for other folks' issues. In the last several years, by confronting, healing and loving myself, I've gained tremendous confidence, and I'm not feeling guilty or bullied into the belief that I am a selfish or arrogant woman because I refuse to accept psychological abuse from others who are disgruntled sods. You and I know who those salty, bitter folks are; it's quite apparent. I've done my internal work, and if others haven't and refuse, that's not my business. I've come to the place where if my life and style create others significant discomfort where they then want to try and mentally dismantle me, that's not going to work for me, not for one second; I keep trying to warn the dark horse's that karmic debt will be their best friend. She's coming for them. You can lead a horse to water; you finish the rest. (Smile)

I'm not accepting that narrative, not for another day. Me living my truth and dreams will and has cast a shadow on others who have ignored their truth. Some've tried countless times to dim my light or encourage others to shelve me no matter how many times they trash me; well, that era is over. You know the saying. “The truth shall set you free.” I'm looking forward to more ways I can hold the mirror up in front of others; actually, I'm finding it a cheeky delight. And those that held no space for me when I was struggling alone on my isolated island but added to my pain will not stand with me now or in future. I took names, and I will never need to tell them who they were; they know. If my being myself and shining my light which casts someone's shadow upon themselves, causes discontentment within that person, that's not my baggage, and I'm not taking that on any longer. If folks believe I'm a thorn in their side and continue to carry an attitude towards me, that's not my problem either. The truth is they are their enemy, not me. I'm just an easy target, just as you may be for others in your family dynamic. There's a reason I don't keep particular folks in my aura; we are not the same. That's the skettle of fish a person like me has dealt with for such a long time; because I'm a sensitive soul, other folks think they can throw their projections and issues on me as if they're my responsibility. Yes, I am kind and loving, but not a soft touch. If folks decide to make me their enemy, then so be it. It didn't have to be that way. I've now learned to place energetic boundaries not by staunchly drawing a line in the sand with verbal clarity; merely, I decided not everyone gets to spend time with me or have access to me. I choose not them; I've been taking my power back for years as this is the new me. I also hope you, darlings, will spend this new moon and retrograde clearing and purging olde beliefs about yourself and deciding to make fresh determinations by being yourself and shining your light regardless of what others think. It only matters what you think. Believe it or not, there is a silver lining in the struggle, and the truth is, I've seen the true colours of many, and a considerable amount of them have revealed their liverish and sallow selves. Yet, no matter, I will continue “Taking Joy” and "Following My Bliss", and I encourage you, dear hearts will as well. Do not allow the winter to get into your thinking. Be bold, my darlings. Toodle pip!

Most affably yours til’ my next swim, Razz