The painting I'm working on at the moment is so exactly indicative of my life right now.
It's a mish-mash of colors and ideas and images. But not feeling very cohesive. There are spots of absolute beauty and clarity. I know exactly what it needs. What it's trying to tell me. Other areas are just a mess, not feeling connected to the rest of the painting, awaiting insight which seems fleeting at best.
Like my painting I feel a jumble of colors and emotions. Both as I've worked on this painting and in life in general. Cranky one minute, content the next. Amazed at the progress I've made this year. Then suddenly feeling adrift and directionless. I watch the emotions flow in and out.
I find myself walking away from the painting again and again. Making another cup of tea. Staring out the window. Distracting myself in various ways, not able to sit with the discomfort of this moment.
There is something just below the surface. Or several things. I feel them. All awaiting expression. Or release.
But I also feel so very very very stuck.
The painting. And me.
This is part of the process. Of painting. Of life. But boy oh boy, sometimes the murkiness feels stronger than the light.
It's the time of year when days are shortest (at least for those of us up here in the northern hemisphere). There is more darkness and the shadows are long and deep. It's the time of year for going within. For seeing what hides in the shadows of our own lives. What needs to be culled out. What needs to be nurtured. What needs more space for expansion. But it's not really the time to act. That will come later, with the return of longer days and more sunshine.
Right now? Going within is exactly what we're "supposed" to be doing. Do I feel myself resisting? Most definitely.
Deep down, I know there is such beauty to be revealed by this process. If only I could surrender. Give in to this energy and let it happen. I am acutely aware of some areas in my life that need attention. It's not that I'm blind or ignoring them. I'm just not sure what kind of attention they need. And so the resistance builds. My head takes over wanting to "figure it all out." Where perhaps it would be better if I just listened. Letting my heart lead the way.
And so the internal struggle wages on.
In the meantime?
I'm honoring the resistance.
Holding the space for whatever it is that is stirring deep down.
And having another cup of tea.