Spring

I have a friend who tells me all the time that everything is consciousness. No matter what is being expressing, be it love, rage, jealousy, joy, grief, despair, lostness, foundness, it doesn’t really matter because it’s all consciousness. All of it, no buts or exceptions or exclusions; no separation, it’s all IT, in its many different forms, manifestations, expressions.

I like it. It takes a lot of pressure off. Pressure to be, look, sound, show up a certain way. Pressure to change. Pressure from thinking in terms of right and wrong, the good girl or the bad, the unacceptable, the unacceptable. (Ha, now there’s a great Freudian… didn’t catch that on the first few read throughs; that should read—of course—the acceptable, the unacceptable.) But this whole idea of no separation also seems to have some relevance to a conundrum I’ve been experiencing lately vis-à-vis the blogging world and the whole idea that I can split my blogging self into two parts, the writer, and the photographer (plus flickr, which I’ve been using a lot lately with my Photoshop e-coursing).

The wires have already been crossing, of course, but it’s come to more of a head this morning because I’m starting a creativity e-course and am completely stumped as to which of my many sites (wink) to link myself to with my new classmates. And long story short, the answer is simple—really, once I sit and relax and go with the flow—the answer is right here, in this place, except that in the same moment that I know its rightness, there's also a landfill full of doubts and fears.

It’s not that this is the only place where the “real” me hangs out, but it is where the most complete and honest me shows up. Time and again this is where I’ve fought the shame, embarrassment, fear, darkness, demons, and written with as much honesty and candor as I could. Here’s another opportunity to do it again, to be with what shows up as I go into this four-week e-course, to continue to be open and vulnerable, to share my desire to create and do art, to express my doubts, my feelings of mediocrity, of being less-than and different, my tenderness, sadness even, at the hiccup I experience around the notion that I-me-debby can be (is) creative and artistic AND that it’s a worthwhile pursuit and use of time; that it’s enough, that I’m enough, the usual blah, blah, blah mantra that even I am getting bored of. So bored, I’m going to stop listening.

So, in addition to the normal posts where I Muse and post some pics, I’ll be using this space to post my homework assignments for the next four weeks, and I will no doubt also be writing about the experience. Though it does feel like descending (once again) to a new level of the personal… but then I remind myself, oh yeah, that’s what it’s been about all along…

So, I’ll see you this weekend with my very first assignment.

In the meantime, happy spring  :)

Aloha Nui,
Debby