THE MORNING PAGES....

Here I am! I took a break to do a 12 week creative process called "The Artist's Way!" I did the program over 30 years ago. I was inspired to do it again because I saw a new friend post about it. I went and got the book right away! If you haven't done it, I highly recommend it. I wanted to see what it would like to take a break from things that weren't working in my life. One of the most therapeutic exercises the author assigns to readers is the "morning pages" as well as weekly essays and activities. Writing every morning, three pages of stream of consciousness was powerful. It became a place to unleash and release all of the mental chaos clogging my brain. Thank God my blank page was a forgiving, non-judgmental and a safe space. On those pages I cried through a breakup from someone who felt it easier to slowly fade away with no explanation. I screamed about wanting closure and knowing the "why?" Then, I sprawled insults across the page about myself and the person I became in that relationship. I carved anger into his name, but the ink bled backwards staining me instead. My pen was like a sword slashing through the angst I felt in other areas of my life. I cried and thanked God at the same time for sparing my 21-year-old son who was in a multiple car accident, totaling his car leaving us with one car to share. I told off the attorneys and insurance companies harassing me for information, screaming, "I am not in this, stop calling me!" I yelled at the pages about having one car to no car when that one broke down. In terror, I scribbled the numbers of all I am financially responsible for. Being a single mom out here hustling in Los Angeles, being choked by skyrocketing inflation, housing and gas prices, my pen screamed defeat. My heart broke all over again succumbing to grief about the fact I might not be in a lot of these situations had I not lost my spouse and my best friend. The ink in my pens dried up, my tears soaked and ripped the pages. My hand ached from writing so hard and so fast. I began hating the morning pages. I did not want to face the feelings that inevitable tore through my pages. 12 weeks, 84 days of writing, give or take some days that I rebelled and refused to write. Along the artist's way, I purchased many new journals and pens. Then, towards the end of the program, something happened! I slowly loosed the grip on my pen. I unclenched my hand and started writing in loops and swirls, flowers and hearts. I got new journals and started writing with colorful markers. I started dreaming again. I started envisioning possibilities. I started to feel hope again. I started writing lists, reviving former goals and making some new ones. I drew some boundaries about who I am, what I want and need. I became a visionary. I took myself on artist's dates to poke through book stores, gardens and flower shops. I attacked the clutter in my home, donated bags of goods and trashed junk. I got creative and redecorated some spaces in my house. I began expressing gratitude for all that I have to be thankful for; my kids, my furry babies, my health, a roof over my head and a new car. I became a leader of a women's online group sharing wisdom I gleaned from the pages and have been listening and learning from them too. I even went back to college! I was the oldest person in my first class. The dream never dies, but we do! I plan on continuing to write my story, manifesting all that the pages allowed me to envision. Thank you morning pages for letting me spill all of the "t" truth, tears and tantrums included. I am going to keep showing up, pen in hand. Thank you to my new friend who was courageous enough to post her doing the morning pages!

#theartistsway #themorningpages #creativityrestored