[Taken in the Golden Bay, South Island, New Zealand last spring.]
I have had a hard time coming to this blog for a fairly long while now, at a loss as to how to find the right balance between the surface and the depths. On the one hand, there are plenty of things I could write about that would skim lightly and easily across the surface (I even thought of posting some of my favorite recipes, which, if you knew my less-than-shining reputation in the kitchen, would make you fall out of your chair laughing), giving the impression that I am toodling through my days on a glittery pink bicycle with metallic streamers furling in the wind, sun in my hair, cherry Life Savers in my back pocket. And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, because I'm not sure the world needs yet another soul standing up and announcing that life is hard, and there is struggle, and too many unanswered questions to count.
But I'm simply not capable of that, of presenting a story that aims to hang a veil over the truth. More importantly, I feel a real sense of responsibility to be honest with my readers. The one comment I receive more than any other from anyone who visits here, has read my book, and/or knows my work can be summed up in a note I received just this morning:
"I admire you so much for what you bring to the world, not simply the beauty of your art, but in your sharing and offering to others the real truth of your heart."
When I read that this morning, I knew I had to come here and speak my truth - to say out loud that I am struggling - not to seek pity or ask to be rescued, but to be honest. I am being faced with the kinds of issues that come knocking on everyone's door eventually - Family, Health, and that uncomfortable space between my ideas of who I want to be and the difficult choices and actions I must take if I truly want to live up to them. As if the universe has placed me squarely on the edge of a diving board and says, "So you really want to live by these values? Well here are some opportunities to make that real. Dive in."
I turn my head and look back at the ladder - an easy route back down to solid ground - wanting so badly to give in, wanting to avoid making the leap, but knowing that if I choose to step away from the edge of the diving board, I am walking away from my self and abandoning all I have tried to create in my life in countless other (easier) ways: Truthfulness, integrity, grace, compassion, mindfulness, courage.
I have written about this countless times - about this journey towards becoming the person I want to be, about seeing all these tangled parts of the path as moments when I can step more fully into her skin. I know deep down these are my moments of truth; these situations have the potential to become memories I look back on with a profound feeling of contentment in the knowledge I did my very best, and stayed true to the values I proclaimed to be my most important. I already have a number of these memories, stories that all have the same ingredients - fear, anger, and resistance, all wrapped up in the knowledge that the choices I made in those situations would determine the course of my life in more ways than I could imagine. And most of these are, at their essence, very small moments, very tiny gestures. But they are each steps towards wholeness, towards a point in time when I can take a breath that is free of pain, free of regret.
There are spaces of solace for me everywhere along this part of my journey - in my work, in the voice of a friend, and yes, in the ingredients of a spinach salad I concocted this weekend and devoured with glee. There is plenty of joy to be had in the midst of the difficulties I am wading through, and this is another element of my little cache of Stories That Changed My Life - that no matter what, there is beauty, and to refuse to acknowledge it, to let the dark matter overwhelm my senses, is to commit the greatest sin, and to give up in every sense of the word. I am nowhere near giving up, and the circumstances of my life are nowhere near being dire or catastrophic, but I am struggling, and that is OK. Because right now the sky is blue, and the reflection of the sun on my floors is so bright it is blinding, and there is a radio outside playing "It's gonna be a bright, bright, sunshine-y day..." which, if you knew the story of that song in my life, would help you understand that in this exact moment, I feel the grace of God.
love you.
love you BIG.
Posted by: jenica | January 08, 2010 at 10:13 AM
Remember, you've always got back-up
Posted by: Marisa and Creative Thursday | January 08, 2010 at 09:02 AM
Christine, this is so very beautifully said.
Just a big wow.
And pause for gratitude.
For you. your honesty and your words.
Having spent much of the last few months in the midst of my darkest soul journey to date, I thank from the bottom of my heart for the light of your words, the lifting of spirit and the reminder that we are not alone in our humanness and our suffering and that are always, always moments of grace to remind us of the goodness and love that always is there to hold us.
Posted by: Shannon | January 07, 2010 at 10:01 PM
You are such an inspiration to me Christine. Thank you for continuing to share you with us.
Posted by: Carmen Torbus | January 07, 2010 at 10:35 AM
Because of who you are you'll create the right next step. I'm going through some possibly similar challenges and *sigh* I'm just amazed at how hard life cam be sometimes. But perspective, good company, time, and being honest with ourselves and our needs and values will help to create decisions we won't regret hopefully. Hang in there!
Posted by: Alexandra | January 07, 2010 at 08:42 AM
me too...I am on that diving board too and the synchronicities that brought me here to read this today let me know that I am in the grace of God too...thank you for being a vessel of the Light.
Posted by: elizabeth ~ so wabi sabi | January 07, 2010 at 07:22 AM
Christine, I've been following your blog for nearly five years and I am grateful that you keep coming back, even if you feel a little at a loss with it all. Isn't that just how everything, life really, goes? A constant flow of ups and down, sometimes nothing more than a gentle wave, other times a stormy sea where we need to hold on tight. By sharing your journey with us in your own unique way, I always feel richer, and softer, after a visit here. Take care, Kerstin xo
Posted by: Kerstin | January 06, 2010 at 11:40 PM
I think often we are on the edge of that so called board....and usually going back and climbing down the ladder is what we do....this time though, maybe it's time to dive in and see what happens....that ladder will still be there :)
Posted by: beth | January 06, 2010 at 08:10 PM
Thanks so much for your openness and honesty. I am in the process of re-reading your book, getting to know you better -- and, consequently, myself. I, too, am struggling with how much to say. Not just on my blog, but in my life. I, too, am struggling to become the person I want to be and sometimes it's HARD, but your words make it easier.
Thank you again.
Posted by: Cindy Jones Lantier | January 06, 2010 at 05:08 PM
Thank you for sharing your feelings and your honesty/dedication to truth telling. I am also trying to live my life from a place that includes recognizing and looking at the truth after some life changing events. It isn't always easy, but it is not as difficult when I know someone else is doing the same thing. So again, thank you.
Posted by: Jennifer | January 06, 2010 at 03:58 PM
Awww. I just got lighter knowing that I've been feeling the same way you have and that it's okay to express that to my loved ones. Your clarity and creativeness in experssing the "truth of your heart" are a joy to experience and something I aspire to.
You're not alone.
Opening to Grace,
Eileen
Posted by: Eileen | January 06, 2010 at 12:56 PM
ahhh, your soul is already in the water. your body will follow....
love you x0
Posted by: Grace | January 06, 2010 at 08:21 AM
Thank you Christine for always finding the words to describe how you feel and honestly share with us. It seems we can all relate to what you write and it's so delightful to read your posts, whether they are written in a shiny orange or twinkling pink mood or in a deep dark grey. Thanks for being a continuous inspiration to all of us.
Posted by: Marianne | January 06, 2010 at 07:47 AM
Your honesty is beautiful and much appreciated! Your power with words is awe inspiring. Trust your journey. One breathe, one moment, one day at a time.
Posted by: kristi | January 06, 2010 at 06:11 AM
you have a wonderful gift of being able to see inside your own soul and put words to all that lies there. when i read many of your posts, i either totally relate, or find myself wondering how i could possibly put my own feelings into words that could be strung together coherently, rather than a disjointed gibberish! oh the gift of words - and you have it. such a pleasure, thankyou for bringing so much into the light for me!
Posted by: donna | January 05, 2010 at 08:52 PM
Part of the beauty of this journey is that the journey IS what it is all about. My sense is that for beautiful souls like yourself, there is no destination. And, even though I don't have the answer, I can say that my perspective is that anyone living a full, messy, crazy, beautiful fully aware life walks the same path. You are not alone and you bring us all comfort that we are not alone either - because you are there too. And you are loved. Your joyous, beautiful spirit shines brightly through, no matter how dark it may seem and it will guide you through the tough times. I'm confident of it because we all see it.
I am so looking forward to meeting you and spending time with you in Jordan!
Posted by: Karyn Entzion | January 05, 2010 at 05:48 PM
thank you for your beautiful honest self. I call these moments the speed bumps in life. sometimes I think they slow us down for a reason and other times I cannot wait to hit the pedal to the metal and GO! whatever you need to do - DO! whatever you want for -WANT! it is okay. you are okay. I feel like telling you to write a book! gasp! I just did! okay, so your beautiful art, words and the struggle poured out onto the pages. hugs. ciao!
Posted by: Nadia | January 05, 2010 at 02:51 PM
i love you.
Posted by: doorways traveler | January 05, 2010 at 02:43 PM
I see you.
I wish I were close enough to come over for tea and tears and hugs.
Posted by: Marianne @ Zen Peacekeeping | January 05, 2010 at 12:49 PM
Thank you for your honesty and your beautiful words. I'm in a similar place right now and I recognize how hard it is to be honest and own up to the fact that sometimes we feel weak and lost and not sure we can find solid ground under our feet.
Blessings to you. And to all those others who are in a similar place right now. May we all find strength to get through this part of the journey.
Posted by: Heather Plett | January 05, 2010 at 12:39 PM
i think because you do share your beautiful truth, seeing you as the glittery pink bicycle girl that you are (none the less :)resonates even deeper... and i would very much love that spinach salad recipe!
Posted by: mindy | January 05, 2010 at 12:12 PM
...and you are not alone...i keep thinking by 36 i should have things figured out a bit better, or be more comfortable, confident, self-assured, blah-blah but the truth is some days i am down right frightened that i am a mom and responsible for two little men in the world when i feel like i am still trying to navigate my own way and it feels messy. everything you wrote - i bet many of us can relate to on this human journey. it's not easy to own any of it, but it's there...and you are not alone. :)
Posted by: sperlygirl | January 05, 2010 at 12:09 PM
I'm probably not your only reader who could sense something under the surface in your posts of the last month or so... your depths do come through, and that's a really good thing. My last few months have been fairly dark, too. Last night my husband said to me "but you can still find the beauty, can't you?" and I said "yes, always, I can always find the beauty" and he said, "well, that's your gift." I think it is your gift, too. Thanks for this post.
Posted by: Bronwyn | January 05, 2010 at 11:35 AM
Oh, hallelujah and amen. Me too (to the not knowing how much to say, avoiding the deep dive) and so now I post silly stuff on my blog and hope nobody notices I'm not really saying anything. ?!
If we had roommates in Jordan, I'd want to be yours. And I don't care if you're perky and upbeat and all contributory (not a word, I don't think) and the sun is shining or you are deep in the muck of "Oh dear Lord I'm xx years old and I'm not who I wanted to be when I grew up." Don't we all have our days? I know I do and I am right smack dab in the middle of this inquiry or whatever it is.
And one more thing... whenever this part of the cycle (post-big success or right before the next Big Thing or whatever it is) happens I think it shouldn't be like this again. Like once I've figured it all out once and gotten my ducks in a row they should not by God go all caddywhampus on me again, even if I did line them up when I was 35 and that was years ago and everything's different now.
Thanks for this. Made me breathe easier today.
Posted by: Rebecca in Switzerland | January 05, 2010 at 11:15 AM
You express yourself beautifully, my dear.
Posted by: Kate Courageous | January 05, 2010 at 09:41 AM