My Artists Date with myself was to finally unpack the treasured pack of vintage-inspired valentines I bought at Barnes and Noble on my first Artists Date, only to face the same existential ADHD challenges described in my admission of failure about sending holiday cards.
However, several Valentines are written, and one is even stamped, although strategically designed to arrive on February 17. This experience is a case study in getting in one's own way.
I will continue to examine the why of this, not your burden, but the kind of thing, dare I say "shit", that comes up in this maddening, inspiring process called writing morning pages in community?
After posting (and subsequently taking down) three softball political pieces that were well-received by many but crucified by a few long-time friends and neighbors, my verve for sharing my writing was damaged, and I broke my string of over fifty weekly postings on Substack and had retreated to lick my wounds, regroup, to decide what I really want to write about, what I really want to say and to whom. But a moment ago, I just jumped back into the fray. I still don't know what I want to say, but then, who does? So. here is what I just posted, and it also exists as a two-minute listen. https://substack.com/home/post/p-157146725?source=queue
What do I want to worship? Nothing. I don't want to worship anything because the word comes with negative connotations for me, blind idolization with genuflection.
Having said that, thanks for offering me the opportunity to tell you that I am a card-carrying member, a regular attendee at Claremont UCC (United Church of Christ), a congregation that has declared and existed as a social-justice-forward, open and affirming community for over forty years. Most Sundays, I sit amongst Buddhists and atheists, reformed Evangelicals and recovering Catholics, all of us staunch supporters of the power of the individual and everyone's right to their body and their thoughts, coming together to actively, peacefully resist what is trying to take us over. If you need a loving and open community, this is it.
Dr. Jen Strickland and Dr. Jacob Bucholz were trained at Princeton and Duke, so even though I sometimes hum la-la-la-la when they say the J-word more than I care to hear, their positions that marry history and culture with current challenges always inspire.
The music is just as stunning and is under the guardianship of Dr. Alex Grabarchuk and Dr. David Rentz, the musical directors; Dr. Carey Robertson, the organist, who plays the mighty Glaetter-Goetz, the instrument that was built by the same company as those responsible for the instrument at Walt Disney Concert Hall; the multitalented Maritri Garrett, artist-in-residence; and a steady stream of talented and regulars plus guests artists. It takes my breath away. (Remember, I am a music snob with an MM in Vocal Performance and a DMA in Choral
Conducting and am quite capable of scathing criticism).
Last Sunday, we were challenged to set our alarms for 10 a.m. daily and to just take a moment for whatever you need.
Both Jen and Jacob are great, but if you want to start somewhere, if you don't believe this sanctuary exists, start with Jacob's sermone from February 2 which earned a five-minute standing ovation.
Most Sundays, I'll be sitting up front on the right so I can continue to learn from Jennifer Stephenson's captivating sign interpretation for the deaf. I'm often seen with tears streaming down my cheeks with my Maltese puppy in my lap.
I completely agree with your view on worship, I just couldn't say it as well. You do have my interest in listening to past sermons, I have it on my calendar to take a listen. Thank you for sharing.
Despite my personal aversion to organized worship, I agree with you whole heartedly regarding UCC. I know and love many of the Churches attendees and can say that they directly influenced a softening in me regarding “faith”. What a remarkable space they hold.
You article resonated with me because it reflects a facet of my the journey I have been on these past 15- 20 months. With the passing of my parents in 2023, I think about our lifetimes and why we fear death. I think you nailed it when you spoke about things you won't do or will never do again.
And that is what I sometimes consider: What is it that I will regret, what is it that I will do, and how do I wish to spend the time I have left (however long that may be). Of course, there will be a million and one things that I will not do, will never see, or never experience, but at this moment I think I am okay with that.
I find myself hesitating this week. A vulnerability that I can't show and instead I put up defenses to find a little self-preservation.
Artists pages were done. Finding I enjoy the writing now that I have set up a space by the window for the kitties and I to write.
Artist date was to Blum Gallery in LA. The work displayed was whimsy, fun, and lighthearted. Yoshitomo Nara's work can be powerful, but this exhibit had me feeling happy. It needs to be seen in person, the sculptures are like clouds of Crisco. I would love to see his process.
The tasks felt daunting. Funny because most of the time I am collecting rocks or flowers on my hikes. This week I just didn't do it. But somehow, I seem to do what is asked of me each week before I realize I am being asked (task #5). I had sent out little notes to let a few people know I was thinking of them. Snail mail is the absolute best; I'll have to find a pen pal to share correspondence with. I enjoyed making a list of 'favorites'. When you think of all the things you really like it can be a little window into yourself.
Money Madness exercise, that one was insightful. I struggle with the concept of money. I am very good with money, I've never felt abundance of money, but I have felt abundance of other tangibles.
Other significant issues this week: I am very protective of my being. I need to open up more, but I find people shy away when that happens. I can tell when I am protecting. I'm working on it.
Brie, I truly admired you going out to Altadena to see the fire affected area and to show your connection with the people there last week. About the tasks, this is how I picture it. Every week the AW tosses a few balls in my lottery ball machine (my head), and each week, some "lucky" balls got spin out (I did or attempted). And if I had connected a few numbers, that's a bingo to me!
Morning pages: this week I got to them later in the mornings and noticed less flow doing them once I had been awake for a while. I did not get to them all days either. I felt compassionate to myself about it since it was a challenging week with many mornings trying to get both my kids out the door solo. Not a week for peaceful pages solo with a cup of coffee while the sun came up by any means! Doing them at all felt like, OK, gold star for me.
Artists Date: I am hoping to carve out an hour or two for an artist date this weekend. If all else fails, I will view committing to attend my two-hour Online Literary Horror class—attending vs missing like last weekend—as my artist date! I did the assignment, writing in the style of Poe in “The Telltale Heart” and look forward do discussing the next one, writing in the style of King from “Pet Cemetery.”
Worship sounds scary to me, like loosing my mind. I don’t have anything I want to worship but if I’m being honest I’d say I worship productivity. And money. Yikes. I’ll meditate on this one this coming week.
I did not think I did any tasks yet this week but I did bake and lay out a beautiful cheese plate to enjoy, so I’ll count those. I also plan to buy and send postcards to friends, that sounds lovely.
I could not even imagine writing peaceful pages when my kids were young. I am sure challenging week will make the next peaceful page feel "productive", ha. Gold star.
This past week, I have spent very little time reading. The new and past tasks and artist dates merging together had me feeling as if I'm not only playing single musical notes but more complex chords: harmonious at times; ear-twitching head-tilting at times.
1. MP- For these past couple weeks, I have also written half a page of noon page to soak up some sun, and bedtime page to recap the day or express gratitude. If there's a noon page, it tends to be more organized and cheery than MP. Bedtime page tends to be tiring so I don't do much of it. I noticed some self-advice and suggestions started to show up more on MP.
I finally tidied up my corner in the loft to write MP, so I don't write on dining table anymore. I wish I had a hardwood bureau desk rather than this IKEA adjustable metal legs with a white veneered surface marked by clear signs of being my children's old homework/ craft table.
While looking through the donation pile of clothing, I examined one more time to see if I can reuse some fabric. This one never-worn blouse, charcoal in color, made from locally grown cotton in Taiwan, was my mourning of my sister. I had a hard time letting this one go. She wrote beautiful Chinese calligraphy. When practicing calligraphy, we lined a black cloth under the paper so the ink doesn't stain the surface beneath. I thought of this, and decided to cut the fabric from this blouse to make a "placemat" for my writing table. It draped across the table widthwise from me to the front edge like a waterfall. The color gives a sense of rest and depth, and the texture gives warmth and comfort. I now write MP here, on top of the cloth, over the the marking on this IKEA table.
2. AD- I went to a Mandir (Hindu temple) in Chino Hills. BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir.
I originally planned to go there in the morning, but needed to take my dog to the vet. I had that Monday off, visiting during sunset would be nice too, since that's normally my work hour. I was pleasantly surprised to see the moon rise over the temple. It was 2 days prior full moon.
Mandir is quite an impressive sight by 71, the temple majestic and the ground magnificent. The marbles in the temple were carved in India, then shipped and constructed here. Mandir is free and open to the public. Upon entering the temple, carvings and statues of Indian gods are abound: on the walls, along the columns, and up on the ceilings. Inside the temple, it's shiny and pure in white marble. It shut the howling wind outside and was surprisingly warm inside. I had come here many years ago during the summer, the marble kept it cool like having natural AC inside.
I noticed after walking around the mandir, I felt a sense of cleansing and had no appetite to have the spiced Indian food from its store. Much like last time after I went to the Korean spa, I also had no appetite to have Korean food in its restaurant. I preferred staying a little empty in my stomach until coming home to fix something light.
3. Tasks-
I sewed a burlap pouch and collected 2 rocks.
I tried using cash these couple weeks and found I was a bit rusty counting coins.
4. Worship- I was raised Catholic in Taiwan because of my parents. My father went to a Catholic middle school because he didn't have enough knowledge in Chinese to go to Chinese speaking public school after Japan retreated from Taiwan (For 50 years, until the ending of WWII, Taiwan was a Japanese colony. Both my parents spoke Taiwanese and Japanese, and later learned Chinese). He became Catholic and through church, he had an outlet to help tutoring children and volunteer free clinic in my agricultural hometown.
Church is a house to worship God, but to me attending mass was a family event in a good community. After I left home for high school, I never thought of going to church. It is a familiar place with foreign God and saints. But growing up in a Buddhist/Taoist culture, temples house familiar Gods, but with strange rituals and expressions. Recently I have practiced yoga and learned some stories of Hindu deities, but I regard them as much as the geo patterns and scripts in mosque. I pay respect, admire, and leave in peace. I never feel compelled to worship.
Maybe what I like to worship takes no human form or stories. I quite like the expression I was taught growing up: if you don't know whom to thank for, thank the heaven and the earth. I worship the forms in the nature.
Michelle, your stories intrigue me, unimaginable and uncomfortable, yet relatable. Your words linger, and I always have to pause to grasp and digest. You are truly extraordinary.
I love what you did with the mourning blouse of your sister. What a beautiful way to honor her, her art form and yours. Some things are just things. Some things are so much more.
* Morning pages - yes, wrote every day, but some were later in the afternoon. The chapter’s financial theme carried into my morning pages and I was in an evil mood after each MP session. This sounds bad and it was, but also quite productive. I identified some actionable items. In the mid-range it will all have been worthwhile.
* Artist’s Date: Back at home, developing a recipe for a low sugar lime-kumquat marmalade after tasting someone else’s version at accountability partner Janice’s house and being gifted a luxurious amount of fresh citrus fruit. The recipe development was the date (intellectual stimulation in a creative context, in a medium I had not explored before - marmalade), but the next day I tried making the recipe (sensory stimulation: taste, consistency/feel, smell, vision, the sound of it bubbling on the stove) - like a second artist’s date. Unfortunately, with artistic abandon, I did not actually follow my own recipe, cut the sugar in half (again) and made something shockingly sour. Then I recooked it again and again with incrementally more sugar until it was palatable - even tartly good - as long as one is anticipating the mouthful of citric acid. Upon completion, the sugars heavily caramelized and the kumquat peel mostly disintegrated to mush. I might make another batch following my original recipe to see if that is less murky looking.
* Tasks: Did a couple, but first I laughed out loud at the thought of going outdoors and picking 5 types of flowers - we’d had nearly 7 inches of heavy snow overnight. The next day I did find tiny yellow blooms on some unidentified probable weeds. Also found two deodar cedar wood roses on the ground (does that tip of the conifer cone count as a picked flower?). Eventually locating five types of flowers seemed improbable, so I switched to picking sprigs from five types of herbs still live and green in this winter season (either toughing it out bare under snow, in protective “igloos”, in an impromptu mini greenhouse - homemade of retired refrigerator shelving, or sheltering on the enclosed back porch). The five: rosemary, arugula, cilantro, sage, and lavender. This sprig-picking (and smelling, tasting) experience was enormously pleasant!
* Worship? I can’t recall using that word in any context, although I respect other’s use of it in their own ways.
Like Janice, today was day 41 of Morning Pages, and I managed to write every day this week. There were a couple of days were the writing did not happen at the start of the morning, but I did finish all of them before noon (so I still think it counts).
Today in my morning pages, I was inspired by the prompt from today's brilliant post: "What vulnerabilities are you protecting that might better serve you to share?" I thought about growing up as a short boy who wore glasses and hand-me-downs and was a bit too smart for his own good and how that shaped how I saw, and to some extent still see, myself. Recognizing that my flavor of imposter syndrome is less about "am I good enough to do this" but rather "am I interesting enough to be a friend, to be popular, to be cool." So I often don't take risks in things I don't yet feel competent in (like sing karaoke) where there could be an element of social acceptance or shunning, Similarly I often pursue solo activities for the same avoidance of potential social shunning. And there is synchronicity in this as part of this journey on the Artists's Way is to (1) give my self the permission to not be good at something and (2) do it within a broader community. Thank you everyone!
And in another moment of synchronicity, my Artist Date was exactly that: doing something I am not particularly good at (or at least I don't think I am). I was going to go outside and try to hand draw what I saw doing my best to capture what I could see, but the weather in the Bay Area precluded that. Instead, I spent about 45 minutes early one morning at work (when no one else was around) sitting in an open lounge space and attempted to draw the desk, chairs, artwork, etc. that was around me. Everything was pencil and I tried to resist the temptation to erase, but just to work with what I created. Overall, I was pleasantly surprised and felt quite content/centered/balance afterwards.
I did not do any tasks this week, but as always hoping to do better this week.
I don't know if there is anything that I particularly worship. Or perhaps like others, I find the word challenging given its religious connotations. But I find sacred spaces with sunrises, sunsets, a starry sky, the sound of the surf, and the crisp mountain air. These are places where I can appreciate and connect with the silence and the stillness.
Thank you for this authentic reflection. There's something so relatable in your telling of the insecure inner child carried within and shaping choices today. It makes me want to hug that smart little glasses-wearing boy!
From my experience with you in this cohort, I can say that absolutely you are interesting enough to be a friend, to be cool, and popular! I understand what you say from your childhood, I had similar thoughts…
Forager Check In. First, thank you Michelle for sharing your experience and emotional processing necessary for survival and growth. Second, in terms of the MPs, completed each day. I was less resistant this week than last week.
Artist’s Date: Spent time with the color photographs of Harry Gruyaert, who I discovered by meandering through the aisles and search feature software (no longer a card catalog, of course!) at the local library. I was enchanted. He plays with composition the way Whistler and Rothko do and some of his photographs almost look like paintings, with visible texture. I felt that I could look at his work for hours.
Did most of the exercises and some of the tasks in the chapter. It was an interesting reflection to find 5 stones; I have ornamental stones in my yard so wanted to find something elsewhere and different. I thought about what was “interesting” to me re: rocks or stones. Wound up selecting several variegated stones of different shapes including a triangle; stones striated with black; rocks with patches of the colors red, yellow, and gray. The exercise helped me slow down on my walk with my dog and to see the beauty of the physical world without being in an exotic location, simply being in an every day setting, an every day setting can provide joy and release from mental activity.
I think the MPs are freeing my mind of some of the chatter that makes it difficult for me to focus on my writing project. Made some headway this week. I am beginning to understand why people say it can take a year to write a book. I am finding that the MPs help me confront some of the fear that keeps me inactive or stalled. I am still going in too many different directions at once, but it is good to be going somewhere, even if the destination is not yet clear.
I too thank you for the introduction to Harry Gruyaert. I was fortunate to visit you (Kathleen) and your library book in person today and to page through the book while you described what enchants you about his work. I loved the photography. Your enthusiasm for it made me look more closely. I rarely opened an art book so this was a special occasion.
Thank you as well for introducing me to Harry Gruyaert, his work is phenomenal. I also loved your discussion of the 5 stones, and it inspires me to find an opportunity to seek the same. However, what is the difference between a stone and a rock?
I am so happy to read you are going somewhere with your story; you have got this!
First off, Michelle, I love the camaraderie you find in fellow survivors of cult abuse . I too find the best healing and compassion and understanding and acceptance from people who are activists who have been through similar things as I have, and have gone out of their way to share them with the public even at great risk to themselves in order to reduce my suffering and the suffering of other survivors. It is a great gift to live in a society where we can talk about these things and become more free in our hearts and minds overtime. It is a great gift to recognize and honor our freedoms/ the freedoms we have fought for and gained and survived for so that we could give better lives to the next generation of children on the Earth.
Thank you for everything you share, Michelle, I resonate with you in my conscience very deeply, and then the deep love of my heart that I have for all humans, but especially those who strive to make the world a better place for others. You consistently put your heart on the line to draw us in to your humanity and I’m grateful for your courage and strength and voice.
For my artists date, I am taste-testing Irish whiskey while watching David Lynch‘s Twin Peaks: the return . I have decided to have an artistic obsession in a roundabout way with the actor, Kyle McLachlan, who plays Special Agent Dale Cooper. So this character and these three seasons of David Lynch‘s creative mind along with Mark Frost, and others on their team is astounding. This is my Artist date today. I don’t drink very often about once a year usually around St. Patrick’s Day because I’m Irish-American. I have a lot of other people in my genealogy, Native American and European American. I identify with artists from all cultures. I identify with humans from all cultures, historical and modern. I really love Jesus. I think my religion of origin is over-controlling especially about food and substances (which even the private Joseph Smith said is by way of guidance not by way of Commandment, but the modern mainstream church has effectively made it a commandment). However, their love of genealogy and of the ancestors has contributed to my life significantly.
My ancestors talk to me- they always have. They really love me and I love them. They are wiser and smarter than my mortal parents. They’re not as wise and smart and loving as my Creator, as I understand him to be. He is the most empowering, validating, protective, loving, caring, and kind human being that I have ever met in my eternal existence. It grieves me to no end how mortal people abuse even the thought of him, but I try to take people at face value because sometimes they’re smarter than you give them credit for.
And even if they have different ideas and perspectives than me, they may have useful ideas and perspectives. I relish getting to know and coming to understand humanity, one by one. I’m so excited about my upcoming art show. I’m so grateful for my understanding of grace that has enough compassion on me to let me explore life and freedom without a fear of being banished into hell or some other world where there’s no love. The people who really love me support my freedom and my exploration. Especially artistically.
I did my morning pages all but one day this week. I think I might’ve done them all seven days but I’m too lazy to go look it up. i’m really reeling from the fact that so many ignorant deceived people voted for Donald fucking Trump and his fascist regime and it breaks my heart. I’m so grateful for all the good people in Congress and the judges are standing strong telling him to fuck off and saying you are wrong you fucking asshole stop being a tyrant. This is a democracy.
I’m so grateful for all the people who came before me who loved freedom and loved democracy and love understanding people and understanding what reasonable good most people want. Understand them by listening to them - hearing people who are trans or brown, or any color or fishes or octopuses in the sea. I’m so grateful for my fellow human beings.
I didn’t do any of the tasks, but I am all caught up on the reading and hope to revisit the tasks at some point in the future .
I have been studying the news and writing to my Congress people as often as need be to let them know where I stand on certain issues so that they can protect our democracy and all the good work that people have done over the last 200 years to build a good free and peaceful society, imperfect as it is .
Also, I am watching David Lynch‘s Twin Peaks: The Return which is like season three but made in 2017 - 25 years after the original two seasons. It is so amazing to see so many dynamic women on the screen (especially as they mature)- so much visionary comprehension of human trauma and dissociation, and the struggle of the conscience between good and evil and how we divide ourselves in our hearts and minds according to our self judgment, and according to our survival needs of the day. David Lynch was a profoundly compassionate human being, but he does confront viewers with toxic evil and with the human capacity for good and evil, for innocence and wisdom, for transformation and healing. I am so grateful for profound artists even when it takes me a long time to be able to give their work the attention it deserves and use all my skills to comprehend their art. It is so delicious to my heart and mind to be reminded that I am not alone in my profundity of emotion, fear and anxiety, dread, delight, joy, wholesomeness, and of good intent. Black coffee and cherry pie. Or huckleberry. Good stuff. David Lynch knew it.
Looking forward to reading what everybody else is posting about how their week went.
Also, I just want to note that until 1998. I had extreme stage fright, a.k.a. social anxiety. When I was growing up, we called it shyness. But I was a closet writer for a good decade before I was able to interact with people about my writing verbally and intellectually. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Not everybody wants to share some people want to internalize and process internally and have their private creative output, and that is satisfying and meaningful to them. And I totally respect that. I don’t want anyone to feel pressured ever to share publicly the things that they grow from or right about or work on. I just want them to feel welcome if they want to share.
I hope everyone is doing OK this week getting by & getting through.
Thank you so much for sharing your story and giving each of us hope on our journey. I love the work of David Lynch. And yes, it is a great gift to live in a society where we can talk about these things and become more free in our hearts and minds overtime. It is a great gift to recognize and honor our freedoms/ the freedoms we have fought for and gained and survived for so that we could give better lives to the next generation of children on the Earth.
"What vulnerabilities are you protecting that might better serve you to share?"
Wow, that question hit me right where I am. I shared a very vulnerable anecdote on my substack page just one hour before reading this, after agonizing over it all week until it released into the world and away from my careful control. (I then noticed I went down by one subscriber after its release. Ick.) I'm still wrestling with the question of whether it is better to protect or share. I appreciate how on point your post was to me today!
The Artist's Way questions:
This week, I was able to carve out more writing time each afternoon, though I've struggled with dissatisfaction with everything I wrote, I kept trying new versions of a story I'm trying to shape. On one rainy afternoon, I decided to take my frustrated artist on a walk in the rain, no umbrella, no hood, to just let myself experience it. I went a different route, and I found two succulent branches that had been cut or broken from their plants; one with bright yellow flowers, one red. I carried them home and planted them in front of my house where I can see them while I work. So, I unexpectedly got flowers on my date. :) Then I came inside, dried off, treated myself to chocolate and wrote.
I also took my artist dancing! I was a bit nervous, but found it freeing and expressive in a warm and embracing atmosphere. (Nothing like the zumba class I tried once 20 years ago and could not keep up with!)
I completed all of the exercises and activities from last week, read this week's chapter, and did a few of this week's activities: removing 5 items from my closet, looking for 5 interesting rocks and leaves and flowers - though aside from the succulents, I chose to simply appreciate them in place rather than collect. I may continue the list this weekend.
I think I'll have to ponder what "worship" means to me these days. I feel aversive to the question, but I will sit with it. Honour as greater than myself? Perhaps, then, collective humanity and love itself? Spend time in deep appreciation of? Perhaps, then, the sun, the moon, and all of nature. I will sit with this some more, and consider every one else's contributions. (I usually read them all before I reply, but today I've done the opposite.)
Thank you all for being in this practice together!
Oooh, a rainwalk! How romantic! And flowers, how perfect. I love that you danced. I think dancing is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Even spiritual, if I dare. May I suggest that your walk, your dance, your flowers, your choice to leave nature in nature are all subtle forms of worship? Of respecting and celebrating the magic of life and being alive? Just a thought.🌸
Also, I would add that I experienced some synchronicity today; there was an article in The Washington Post about a new book from a children’s book author, who talked about writing for a younger audience in a different way, without the plot having to be a problem to be solved or overcome. It is interesting that I’ve been wrestling with similar ideas, wondering about the plot and settings for different ages. My next Artist’s Date might be immersing myself in some of his books!
You go, Kathleen. And speaking of the WP, yes, I'm still a subscriber, I couldn't give up playing Keyword everyday, let alone reading Anne Lamott's series on aging.
I’ve not been meditating. Does it count to sit and stare out into nothing for minutes at a time just to taste the inevitable void?
I’ve been surviving. I wake up from deathlike escapist sleep, hours later than normal. I resist the urge to look at my phone in a feeble attempt to deny reality. My mantra has become “What the Actual Fuck!” though that was never my intention. Thoughts come and go in my mind like whack-a-mole. I figit with my fingers and suck my teeth in a frenzy of fight or flight. Maybe I wash my face or hop in the shower, just to wrap myself back into the pajama pants and Smiths t-shirt I’ve had on for longer than I can calculate. Did I brush my teeth?
I should drink some water.
I should be doing…
Well,
I should be doing…
Shouldn’t I be doing…
something?
Unclench your jaw, Tamar.
Take a deep breath.
Relax your shoulders.
I know the fix, but it feels absurd.
I want to yell. I want to smash something. Can I breathe through outrage and disgust? I want to shake strangers by the shoulders and yell “Dont you see what I see, man?!?”
I can’t so I don’t.
I angrily flip through Julia Cameron’s passive aggressive God without God, You do You, Here’s How… More God, Not really God, But God pages and I’m triggered again like I was before when I marked up the margins with notes reading “Fuck This” and “Hell No”, and pentagrams covering entire pages and paragraphs. Rage is a wonderful prompt so I read it again and I write words for kindling and I feel better now but I’ve got nothing to show for it.
“Hello, Fellow Cult Kid” resonates in my fingers because this space, these people make me feel less alone in my rage and recovery from High Control Fundamental Christian Jehovah’s Witnessism. I take refuge in your commitment to your morning pages and artist dates. What catharsis. I cheer you on from this side of the screen. I stalk your posts and pages with deep admiration and envy.
I lied about not writing. Or reading. For the sake of art and drama. I sit with morning pages most days minus Tuesdays. I breathe through the dark days and it works every time. I changed my shirt. I will take myself on an Artists date today. Maybe I’ll dance. Maybe I’ll break something. Or make something. Or change my hair.
What do I worship?
I worship Life. Life in all of its splendor and sloppiness. I worship the trees and sunsets and sand in my toes. I worship survival and rebellion and the smell of long grass after the rain and sweaty sheets after sex. I worship questions with no answers and stars that died eons ago. I worship laughter and music and long awkward hugs. I worship the breath in my body and the energy that animates it and all living things because it demands nothing of me but to live.
I want to worship nothing more than Life in its entirety. Gods are fickle and ill-humored. I gave them my youth. I fight for the right of others to worship as they choose as long as it harms none. As for me and my house, we shall serve Life itself with an abundance of Love.
I'm laughing to myself at how gingerly and politely I danced around the edges of my reaction to this chapter's very Christiany "not God" god and you just flayed it all out there. Yes! I love your incredibly authentic writing.
I was wondering about you and how you're doing with this, and I'm glad you posted. Sending you my love.
2/14/25 Day 41 of morning pages.
My Artists Date with myself was to finally unpack the treasured pack of vintage-inspired valentines I bought at Barnes and Noble on my first Artists Date, only to face the same existential ADHD challenges described in my admission of failure about sending holiday cards.
https://storiesbyjanus.substack.com/p/copy-tis-the-season-to-send-holiday?r=28rbmj.
However, several Valentines are written, and one is even stamped, although strategically designed to arrive on February 17. This experience is a case study in getting in one's own way.
I will continue to examine the why of this, not your burden, but the kind of thing, dare I say "shit", that comes up in this maddening, inspiring process called writing morning pages in community?
After posting (and subsequently taking down) three softball political pieces that were well-received by many but crucified by a few long-time friends and neighbors, my verve for sharing my writing was damaged, and I broke my string of over fifty weekly postings on Substack and had retreated to lick my wounds, regroup, to decide what I really want to write about, what I really want to say and to whom. But a moment ago, I just jumped back into the fray. I still don't know what I want to say, but then, who does? So. here is what I just posted, and it also exists as a two-minute listen. https://substack.com/home/post/p-157146725?source=queue
What do I want to worship? Nothing. I don't want to worship anything because the word comes with negative connotations for me, blind idolization with genuflection.
Having said that, thanks for offering me the opportunity to tell you that I am a card-carrying member, a regular attendee at Claremont UCC (United Church of Christ), a congregation that has declared and existed as a social-justice-forward, open and affirming community for over forty years. Most Sundays, I sit amongst Buddhists and atheists, reformed Evangelicals and recovering Catholics, all of us staunch supporters of the power of the individual and everyone's right to their body and their thoughts, coming together to actively, peacefully resist what is trying to take us over. If you need a loving and open community, this is it.
Dr. Jen Strickland and Dr. Jacob Bucholz were trained at Princeton and Duke, so even though I sometimes hum la-la-la-la when they say the J-word more than I care to hear, their positions that marry history and culture with current challenges always inspire.
The music is just as stunning and is under the guardianship of Dr. Alex Grabarchuk and Dr. David Rentz, the musical directors; Dr. Carey Robertson, the organist, who plays the mighty Glaetter-Goetz, the instrument that was built by the same company as those responsible for the instrument at Walt Disney Concert Hall; the multitalented Maritri Garrett, artist-in-residence; and a steady stream of talented and regulars plus guests artists. It takes my breath away. (Remember, I am a music snob with an MM in Vocal Performance and a DMA in Choral
Conducting and am quite capable of scathing criticism).
Last Sunday, we were challenged to set our alarms for 10 a.m. daily and to just take a moment for whatever you need.
Here is the link for past sermons. https://podpoint.com/claremont-united-church-of-christ
Both Jen and Jacob are great, but if you want to start somewhere, if you don't believe this sanctuary exists, start with Jacob's sermone from February 2 which earned a five-minute standing ovation.
Most Sundays, I'll be sitting up front on the right so I can continue to learn from Jennifer Stephenson's captivating sign interpretation for the deaf. I'm often seen with tears streaming down my cheeks with my Maltese puppy in my lap.
Invitation to join our community at 10 a.m. PT on Sundays (You Tube or FB Live) or here is the link of recent sermon topics. https://podpoint.com/claremont-united-church-of-christ
I completely agree with your view on worship, I just couldn't say it as well. You do have my interest in listening to past sermons, I have it on my calendar to take a listen. Thank you for sharing.
Hi Janice
Despite my personal aversion to organized worship, I agree with you whole heartedly regarding UCC. I know and love many of the Churches attendees and can say that they directly influenced a softening in me regarding “faith”. What a remarkable space they hold.
Will respond more fully, but I just wanted to say that your Substack post was wonderful and resonated with me deeply.
Thats what its all about…connections, touching one another.
Thank you!
You article resonated with me because it reflects a facet of my the journey I have been on these past 15- 20 months. With the passing of my parents in 2023, I think about our lifetimes and why we fear death. I think you nailed it when you spoke about things you won't do or will never do again.
And that is what I sometimes consider: What is it that I will regret, what is it that I will do, and how do I wish to spend the time I have left (however long that may be). Of course, there will be a million and one things that I will not do, will never see, or never experience, but at this moment I think I am okay with that.
The kind of loneliness that makes you want to run from anyone who has the power to trap you. Even people who love you. Especially people you love.
Yes, I relate to wanting to run from anyone who has the power to trap you, to trap me, to trap anyone.
I find myself hesitating this week. A vulnerability that I can't show and instead I put up defenses to find a little self-preservation.
Artists pages were done. Finding I enjoy the writing now that I have set up a space by the window for the kitties and I to write.
Artist date was to Blum Gallery in LA. The work displayed was whimsy, fun, and lighthearted. Yoshitomo Nara's work can be powerful, but this exhibit had me feeling happy. It needs to be seen in person, the sculptures are like clouds of Crisco. I would love to see his process.
The tasks felt daunting. Funny because most of the time I am collecting rocks or flowers on my hikes. This week I just didn't do it. But somehow, I seem to do what is asked of me each week before I realize I am being asked (task #5). I had sent out little notes to let a few people know I was thinking of them. Snail mail is the absolute best; I'll have to find a pen pal to share correspondence with. I enjoyed making a list of 'favorites'. When you think of all the things you really like it can be a little window into yourself.
Money Madness exercise, that one was insightful. I struggle with the concept of money. I am very good with money, I've never felt abundance of money, but I have felt abundance of other tangibles.
Other significant issues this week: I am very protective of my being. I need to open up more, but I find people shy away when that happens. I can tell when I am protecting. I'm working on it.
Brie, I truly admired you going out to Altadena to see the fire affected area and to show your connection with the people there last week. About the tasks, this is how I picture it. Every week the AW tosses a few balls in my lottery ball machine (my head), and each week, some "lucky" balls got spin out (I did or attempted). And if I had connected a few numbers, that's a bingo to me!
Your brain is amazing to me. I will try your concept and take the tasks as they come feeling like those are the lucky ones to get selected.
I empathize with your hesitation. I would venture that not everyone would shy away from you opening up more. Everything I see is beautiful. 💛
This post 💗🙌🏼
Artist Way Check In:
Morning pages: this week I got to them later in the mornings and noticed less flow doing them once I had been awake for a while. I did not get to them all days either. I felt compassionate to myself about it since it was a challenging week with many mornings trying to get both my kids out the door solo. Not a week for peaceful pages solo with a cup of coffee while the sun came up by any means! Doing them at all felt like, OK, gold star for me.
Artists Date: I am hoping to carve out an hour or two for an artist date this weekend. If all else fails, I will view committing to attend my two-hour Online Literary Horror class—attending vs missing like last weekend—as my artist date! I did the assignment, writing in the style of Poe in “The Telltale Heart” and look forward do discussing the next one, writing in the style of King from “Pet Cemetery.”
Worship sounds scary to me, like loosing my mind. I don’t have anything I want to worship but if I’m being honest I’d say I worship productivity. And money. Yikes. I’ll meditate on this one this coming week.
I did not think I did any tasks yet this week but I did bake and lay out a beautiful cheese plate to enjoy, so I’ll count those. I also plan to buy and send postcards to friends, that sounds lovely.
Thank you for your vulnerability, Annalise. It’s hard not to worship productivity in our culture. It’s what’s most rewarded.
I could not even imagine writing peaceful pages when my kids were young. I am sure challenging week will make the next peaceful page feel "productive", ha. Gold star.
Hi, fellow artists, Happy Valentine's Day!
Week 6. Yes! We made it to the halfway mark.
This past week, I have spent very little time reading. The new and past tasks and artist dates merging together had me feeling as if I'm not only playing single musical notes but more complex chords: harmonious at times; ear-twitching head-tilting at times.
1. MP- For these past couple weeks, I have also written half a page of noon page to soak up some sun, and bedtime page to recap the day or express gratitude. If there's a noon page, it tends to be more organized and cheery than MP. Bedtime page tends to be tiring so I don't do much of it. I noticed some self-advice and suggestions started to show up more on MP.
I finally tidied up my corner in the loft to write MP, so I don't write on dining table anymore. I wish I had a hardwood bureau desk rather than this IKEA adjustable metal legs with a white veneered surface marked by clear signs of being my children's old homework/ craft table.
While looking through the donation pile of clothing, I examined one more time to see if I can reuse some fabric. This one never-worn blouse, charcoal in color, made from locally grown cotton in Taiwan, was my mourning of my sister. I had a hard time letting this one go. She wrote beautiful Chinese calligraphy. When practicing calligraphy, we lined a black cloth under the paper so the ink doesn't stain the surface beneath. I thought of this, and decided to cut the fabric from this blouse to make a "placemat" for my writing table. It draped across the table widthwise from me to the front edge like a waterfall. The color gives a sense of rest and depth, and the texture gives warmth and comfort. I now write MP here, on top of the cloth, over the the marking on this IKEA table.
2. AD- I went to a Mandir (Hindu temple) in Chino Hills. BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir.
I originally planned to go there in the morning, but needed to take my dog to the vet. I had that Monday off, visiting during sunset would be nice too, since that's normally my work hour. I was pleasantly surprised to see the moon rise over the temple. It was 2 days prior full moon.
Mandir is quite an impressive sight by 71, the temple majestic and the ground magnificent. The marbles in the temple were carved in India, then shipped and constructed here. Mandir is free and open to the public. Upon entering the temple, carvings and statues of Indian gods are abound: on the walls, along the columns, and up on the ceilings. Inside the temple, it's shiny and pure in white marble. It shut the howling wind outside and was surprisingly warm inside. I had come here many years ago during the summer, the marble kept it cool like having natural AC inside.
I noticed after walking around the mandir, I felt a sense of cleansing and had no appetite to have the spiced Indian food from its store. Much like last time after I went to the Korean spa, I also had no appetite to have Korean food in its restaurant. I preferred staying a little empty in my stomach until coming home to fix something light.
3. Tasks-
I sewed a burlap pouch and collected 2 rocks.
I tried using cash these couple weeks and found I was a bit rusty counting coins.
4. Worship- I was raised Catholic in Taiwan because of my parents. My father went to a Catholic middle school because he didn't have enough knowledge in Chinese to go to Chinese speaking public school after Japan retreated from Taiwan (For 50 years, until the ending of WWII, Taiwan was a Japanese colony. Both my parents spoke Taiwanese and Japanese, and later learned Chinese). He became Catholic and through church, he had an outlet to help tutoring children and volunteer free clinic in my agricultural hometown.
Church is a house to worship God, but to me attending mass was a family event in a good community. After I left home for high school, I never thought of going to church. It is a familiar place with foreign God and saints. But growing up in a Buddhist/Taoist culture, temples house familiar Gods, but with strange rituals and expressions. Recently I have practiced yoga and learned some stories of Hindu deities, but I regard them as much as the geo patterns and scripts in mosque. I pay respect, admire, and leave in peace. I never feel compelled to worship.
Maybe what I like to worship takes no human form or stories. I quite like the expression I was taught growing up: if you don't know whom to thank for, thank the heaven and the earth. I worship the forms in the nature.
Michelle, your stories intrigue me, unimaginable and uncomfortable, yet relatable. Your words linger, and I always have to pause to grasp and digest. You are truly extraordinary.
Your writing placemat 💕 Oh, and the moonrise over the temple 🌕 Thank you for sharing 🙏🏼
What a lovely and meaningful way to honor your sister and your connection to her. 💖
Thank you for sharing your experiences with religion, spiritually, and worship. A gift to look through your eyes.
Pauline,
I love what you did with the mourning blouse of your sister. What a beautiful way to honor her, her art form and yours. Some things are just things. Some things are so much more.
Your artist dates sound wonderful too!
Weekly check-in.
* Morning pages - yes, wrote every day, but some were later in the afternoon. The chapter’s financial theme carried into my morning pages and I was in an evil mood after each MP session. This sounds bad and it was, but also quite productive. I identified some actionable items. In the mid-range it will all have been worthwhile.
* Artist’s Date: Back at home, developing a recipe for a low sugar lime-kumquat marmalade after tasting someone else’s version at accountability partner Janice’s house and being gifted a luxurious amount of fresh citrus fruit. The recipe development was the date (intellectual stimulation in a creative context, in a medium I had not explored before - marmalade), but the next day I tried making the recipe (sensory stimulation: taste, consistency/feel, smell, vision, the sound of it bubbling on the stove) - like a second artist’s date. Unfortunately, with artistic abandon, I did not actually follow my own recipe, cut the sugar in half (again) and made something shockingly sour. Then I recooked it again and again with incrementally more sugar until it was palatable - even tartly good - as long as one is anticipating the mouthful of citric acid. Upon completion, the sugars heavily caramelized and the kumquat peel mostly disintegrated to mush. I might make another batch following my original recipe to see if that is less murky looking.
* Tasks: Did a couple, but first I laughed out loud at the thought of going outdoors and picking 5 types of flowers - we’d had nearly 7 inches of heavy snow overnight. The next day I did find tiny yellow blooms on some unidentified probable weeds. Also found two deodar cedar wood roses on the ground (does that tip of the conifer cone count as a picked flower?). Eventually locating five types of flowers seemed improbable, so I switched to picking sprigs from five types of herbs still live and green in this winter season (either toughing it out bare under snow, in protective “igloos”, in an impromptu mini greenhouse - homemade of retired refrigerator shelving, or sheltering on the enclosed back porch). The five: rosemary, arugula, cilantro, sage, and lavender. This sprig-picking (and smelling, tasting) experience was enormously pleasant!
* Worship? I can’t recall using that word in any context, although I respect other’s use of it in their own ways.
Switching from flowers to herbs is creativity at play! Impromptu greenhouse too.
Like Janice, today was day 41 of Morning Pages, and I managed to write every day this week. There were a couple of days were the writing did not happen at the start of the morning, but I did finish all of them before noon (so I still think it counts).
Today in my morning pages, I was inspired by the prompt from today's brilliant post: "What vulnerabilities are you protecting that might better serve you to share?" I thought about growing up as a short boy who wore glasses and hand-me-downs and was a bit too smart for his own good and how that shaped how I saw, and to some extent still see, myself. Recognizing that my flavor of imposter syndrome is less about "am I good enough to do this" but rather "am I interesting enough to be a friend, to be popular, to be cool." So I often don't take risks in things I don't yet feel competent in (like sing karaoke) where there could be an element of social acceptance or shunning, Similarly I often pursue solo activities for the same avoidance of potential social shunning. And there is synchronicity in this as part of this journey on the Artists's Way is to (1) give my self the permission to not be good at something and (2) do it within a broader community. Thank you everyone!
And in another moment of synchronicity, my Artist Date was exactly that: doing something I am not particularly good at (or at least I don't think I am). I was going to go outside and try to hand draw what I saw doing my best to capture what I could see, but the weather in the Bay Area precluded that. Instead, I spent about 45 minutes early one morning at work (when no one else was around) sitting in an open lounge space and attempted to draw the desk, chairs, artwork, etc. that was around me. Everything was pencil and I tried to resist the temptation to erase, but just to work with what I created. Overall, I was pleasantly surprised and felt quite content/centered/balance afterwards.
I did not do any tasks this week, but as always hoping to do better this week.
I don't know if there is anything that I particularly worship. Or perhaps like others, I find the word challenging given its religious connotations. But I find sacred spaces with sunrises, sunsets, a starry sky, the sound of the surf, and the crisp mountain air. These are places where I can appreciate and connect with the silence and the stillness.
Thank you for this authentic reflection. There's something so relatable in your telling of the insecure inner child carried within and shaping choices today. It makes me want to hug that smart little glasses-wearing boy!
Thank you Deborah!!!
I like the way your artist’s date was something like a morning pages day with sketches instead of words. It inspires me to do the same one week.
I did not think about it that way, but you are right. Thank you!
I think its a powerful exercise to do( or try) something we aren’t good at. Bravo on your sketches. I’m curious what you’ll try next.
Me too 🤣
From my experience with you in this cohort, I can say that absolutely you are interesting enough to be a friend, to be cool, and popular! I understand what you say from your childhood, I had similar thoughts…
Forager Check In. First, thank you Michelle for sharing your experience and emotional processing necessary for survival and growth. Second, in terms of the MPs, completed each day. I was less resistant this week than last week.
Artist’s Date: Spent time with the color photographs of Harry Gruyaert, who I discovered by meandering through the aisles and search feature software (no longer a card catalog, of course!) at the local library. I was enchanted. He plays with composition the way Whistler and Rothko do and some of his photographs almost look like paintings, with visible texture. I felt that I could look at his work for hours.
Did most of the exercises and some of the tasks in the chapter. It was an interesting reflection to find 5 stones; I have ornamental stones in my yard so wanted to find something elsewhere and different. I thought about what was “interesting” to me re: rocks or stones. Wound up selecting several variegated stones of different shapes including a triangle; stones striated with black; rocks with patches of the colors red, yellow, and gray. The exercise helped me slow down on my walk with my dog and to see the beauty of the physical world without being in an exotic location, simply being in an every day setting, an every day setting can provide joy and release from mental activity.
I think the MPs are freeing my mind of some of the chatter that makes it difficult for me to focus on my writing project. Made some headway this week. I am beginning to understand why people say it can take a year to write a book. I am finding that the MPs help me confront some of the fear that keeps me inactive or stalled. I am still going in too many different directions at once, but it is good to be going somewhere, even if the destination is not yet clear.
I too thank you for the introduction to Harry Gruyaert. I was fortunate to visit you (Kathleen) and your library book in person today and to page through the book while you described what enchants you about his work. I loved the photography. Your enthusiasm for it made me look more closely. I rarely opened an art book so this was a special occasion.
Thank you as well for introducing me to Harry Gruyaert, his work is phenomenal. I also loved your discussion of the 5 stones, and it inspires me to find an opportunity to seek the same. However, what is the difference between a stone and a rock?
I am so happy to read you are going somewhere with your story; you have got this!
Thanks for the introduction to Harry Gruyaert.
Wow!!! This is beautiful. Thank you as well for introducing me to Harry Gruyaert!
Artist way check in post-
First off, Michelle, I love the camaraderie you find in fellow survivors of cult abuse . I too find the best healing and compassion and understanding and acceptance from people who are activists who have been through similar things as I have, and have gone out of their way to share them with the public even at great risk to themselves in order to reduce my suffering and the suffering of other survivors. It is a great gift to live in a society where we can talk about these things and become more free in our hearts and minds overtime. It is a great gift to recognize and honor our freedoms/ the freedoms we have fought for and gained and survived for so that we could give better lives to the next generation of children on the Earth.
Thank you for everything you share, Michelle, I resonate with you in my conscience very deeply, and then the deep love of my heart that I have for all humans, but especially those who strive to make the world a better place for others. You consistently put your heart on the line to draw us in to your humanity and I’m grateful for your courage and strength and voice.
For my artists date, I am taste-testing Irish whiskey while watching David Lynch‘s Twin Peaks: the return . I have decided to have an artistic obsession in a roundabout way with the actor, Kyle McLachlan, who plays Special Agent Dale Cooper. So this character and these three seasons of David Lynch‘s creative mind along with Mark Frost, and others on their team is astounding. This is my Artist date today. I don’t drink very often about once a year usually around St. Patrick’s Day because I’m Irish-American. I have a lot of other people in my genealogy, Native American and European American. I identify with artists from all cultures. I identify with humans from all cultures, historical and modern. I really love Jesus. I think my religion of origin is over-controlling especially about food and substances (which even the private Joseph Smith said is by way of guidance not by way of Commandment, but the modern mainstream church has effectively made it a commandment). However, their love of genealogy and of the ancestors has contributed to my life significantly.
My ancestors talk to me- they always have. They really love me and I love them. They are wiser and smarter than my mortal parents. They’re not as wise and smart and loving as my Creator, as I understand him to be. He is the most empowering, validating, protective, loving, caring, and kind human being that I have ever met in my eternal existence. It grieves me to no end how mortal people abuse even the thought of him, but I try to take people at face value because sometimes they’re smarter than you give them credit for.
And even if they have different ideas and perspectives than me, they may have useful ideas and perspectives. I relish getting to know and coming to understand humanity, one by one. I’m so excited about my upcoming art show. I’m so grateful for my understanding of grace that has enough compassion on me to let me explore life and freedom without a fear of being banished into hell or some other world where there’s no love. The people who really love me support my freedom and my exploration. Especially artistically.
I did my morning pages all but one day this week. I think I might’ve done them all seven days but I’m too lazy to go look it up. i’m really reeling from the fact that so many ignorant deceived people voted for Donald fucking Trump and his fascist regime and it breaks my heart. I’m so grateful for all the good people in Congress and the judges are standing strong telling him to fuck off and saying you are wrong you fucking asshole stop being a tyrant. This is a democracy.
I’m so grateful for all the people who came before me who loved freedom and loved democracy and love understanding people and understanding what reasonable good most people want. Understand them by listening to them - hearing people who are trans or brown, or any color or fishes or octopuses in the sea. I’m so grateful for my fellow human beings.
I didn’t do any of the tasks, but I am all caught up on the reading and hope to revisit the tasks at some point in the future .
I have been studying the news and writing to my Congress people as often as need be to let them know where I stand on certain issues so that they can protect our democracy and all the good work that people have done over the last 200 years to build a good free and peaceful society, imperfect as it is .
Also, I am watching David Lynch‘s Twin Peaks: The Return which is like season three but made in 2017 - 25 years after the original two seasons. It is so amazing to see so many dynamic women on the screen (especially as they mature)- so much visionary comprehension of human trauma and dissociation, and the struggle of the conscience between good and evil and how we divide ourselves in our hearts and minds according to our self judgment, and according to our survival needs of the day. David Lynch was a profoundly compassionate human being, but he does confront viewers with toxic evil and with the human capacity for good and evil, for innocence and wisdom, for transformation and healing. I am so grateful for profound artists even when it takes me a long time to be able to give their work the attention it deserves and use all my skills to comprehend their art. It is so delicious to my heart and mind to be reminded that I am not alone in my profundity of emotion, fear and anxiety, dread, delight, joy, wholesomeness, and of good intent. Black coffee and cherry pie. Or huckleberry. Good stuff. David Lynch knew it.
Looking forward to reading what everybody else is posting about how their week went.
Also, I just want to note that until 1998. I had extreme stage fright, a.k.a. social anxiety. When I was growing up, we called it shyness. But I was a closet writer for a good decade before I was able to interact with people about my writing verbally and intellectually. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Not everybody wants to share some people want to internalize and process internally and have their private creative output, and that is satisfying and meaningful to them. And I totally respect that. I don’t want anyone to feel pressured ever to share publicly the things that they grow from or right about or work on. I just want them to feel welcome if they want to share.
I hope everyone is doing OK this week getting by & getting through.
Thank you so much for sharing your story and giving each of us hope on our journey. I love the work of David Lynch. And yes, it is a great gift to live in a society where we can talk about these things and become more free in our hearts and minds overtime. It is a great gift to recognize and honor our freedoms/ the freedoms we have fought for and gained and survived for so that we could give better lives to the next generation of children on the Earth.
"What vulnerabilities are you protecting that might better serve you to share?"
Wow, that question hit me right where I am. I shared a very vulnerable anecdote on my substack page just one hour before reading this, after agonizing over it all week until it released into the world and away from my careful control. (I then noticed I went down by one subscriber after its release. Ick.) I'm still wrestling with the question of whether it is better to protect or share. I appreciate how on point your post was to me today!
The Artist's Way questions:
This week, I was able to carve out more writing time each afternoon, though I've struggled with dissatisfaction with everything I wrote, I kept trying new versions of a story I'm trying to shape. On one rainy afternoon, I decided to take my frustrated artist on a walk in the rain, no umbrella, no hood, to just let myself experience it. I went a different route, and I found two succulent branches that had been cut or broken from their plants; one with bright yellow flowers, one red. I carried them home and planted them in front of my house where I can see them while I work. So, I unexpectedly got flowers on my date. :) Then I came inside, dried off, treated myself to chocolate and wrote.
I also took my artist dancing! I was a bit nervous, but found it freeing and expressive in a warm and embracing atmosphere. (Nothing like the zumba class I tried once 20 years ago and could not keep up with!)
I completed all of the exercises and activities from last week, read this week's chapter, and did a few of this week's activities: removing 5 items from my closet, looking for 5 interesting rocks and leaves and flowers - though aside from the succulents, I chose to simply appreciate them in place rather than collect. I may continue the list this weekend.
I think I'll have to ponder what "worship" means to me these days. I feel aversive to the question, but I will sit with it. Honour as greater than myself? Perhaps, then, collective humanity and love itself? Spend time in deep appreciation of? Perhaps, then, the sun, the moon, and all of nature. I will sit with this some more, and consider every one else's contributions. (I usually read them all before I reply, but today I've done the opposite.)
Thank you all for being in this practice together!
Oooh, a rainwalk! How romantic! And flowers, how perfect. I love that you danced. I think dancing is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Even spiritual, if I dare. May I suggest that your walk, your dance, your flowers, your choice to leave nature in nature are all subtle forms of worship? Of respecting and celebrating the magic of life and being alive? Just a thought.🌸
Congratulations on your artist dance! Something different about your writing this week, there's more space and ease.
Really? What an interesting observation! Thank you for sharing that reflection, Pauline. 💛
Also, I would add that I experienced some synchronicity today; there was an article in The Washington Post about a new book from a children’s book author, who talked about writing for a younger audience in a different way, without the plot having to be a problem to be solved or overcome. It is interesting that I’ve been wrestling with similar ideas, wondering about the plot and settings for different ages. My next Artist’s Date might be immersing myself in some of his books!
You go, Kathleen. And speaking of the WP, yes, I'm still a subscriber, I couldn't give up playing Keyword everyday, let alone reading Anne Lamott's series on aging.
I love Anne Lamontt’s series on aging!
Wow, Michelle, you continue to knock it outta the park.
Thank you.
I’ve not been reading. I can’t process words.
I’ve not been writing, the letters are jumbled.
I’ve not been meditating. Does it count to sit and stare out into nothing for minutes at a time just to taste the inevitable void?
I’ve been surviving. I wake up from deathlike escapist sleep, hours later than normal. I resist the urge to look at my phone in a feeble attempt to deny reality. My mantra has become “What the Actual Fuck!” though that was never my intention. Thoughts come and go in my mind like whack-a-mole. I figit with my fingers and suck my teeth in a frenzy of fight or flight. Maybe I wash my face or hop in the shower, just to wrap myself back into the pajama pants and Smiths t-shirt I’ve had on for longer than I can calculate. Did I brush my teeth?
I should drink some water.
I should be doing…
Well,
I should be doing…
Shouldn’t I be doing…
something?
Unclench your jaw, Tamar.
Take a deep breath.
Relax your shoulders.
I know the fix, but it feels absurd.
I want to yell. I want to smash something. Can I breathe through outrage and disgust? I want to shake strangers by the shoulders and yell “Dont you see what I see, man?!?”
I can’t so I don’t.
I angrily flip through Julia Cameron’s passive aggressive God without God, You do You, Here’s How… More God, Not really God, But God pages and I’m triggered again like I was before when I marked up the margins with notes reading “Fuck This” and “Hell No”, and pentagrams covering entire pages and paragraphs. Rage is a wonderful prompt so I read it again and I write words for kindling and I feel better now but I’ve got nothing to show for it.
“Hello, Fellow Cult Kid” resonates in my fingers because this space, these people make me feel less alone in my rage and recovery from High Control Fundamental Christian Jehovah’s Witnessism. I take refuge in your commitment to your morning pages and artist dates. What catharsis. I cheer you on from this side of the screen. I stalk your posts and pages with deep admiration and envy.
I lied about not writing. Or reading. For the sake of art and drama. I sit with morning pages most days minus Tuesdays. I breathe through the dark days and it works every time. I changed my shirt. I will take myself on an Artists date today. Maybe I’ll dance. Maybe I’ll break something. Or make something. Or change my hair.
What do I worship?
I worship Life. Life in all of its splendor and sloppiness. I worship the trees and sunsets and sand in my toes. I worship survival and rebellion and the smell of long grass after the rain and sweaty sheets after sex. I worship questions with no answers and stars that died eons ago. I worship laughter and music and long awkward hugs. I worship the breath in my body and the energy that animates it and all living things because it demands nothing of me but to live.
I want to worship nothing more than Life in its entirety. Gods are fickle and ill-humored. I gave them my youth. I fight for the right of others to worship as they choose as long as it harms none. As for me and my house, we shall serve Life itself with an abundance of Love.
I don't have a strong feeling towards God, but sometimes I read it backward and feel a bit lighter.
I'm laughing to myself at how gingerly and politely I danced around the edges of my reaction to this chapter's very Christiany "not God" god and you just flayed it all out there. Yes! I love your incredibly authentic writing.
I was wondering about you and how you're doing with this, and I'm glad you posted. Sending you my love.
Beautiful! 😻 thank you for all this experiential “drama”… it’s nourishing to my soul.
Damn I love you, Tamar. 🖤♥️
🥰