Lightly child, lightly...
The Artist's Way Ch. 9 (June 2022, Issue #23)
Welcome to a love letter, a monthly publication from artist, writer and yoga teacher Colby Mackenzie featuring stories of my loving practices and support for yours. This year (Oct 2021 - Sept 2022), we’re practicing with The Artist’s Way. Thanks for being here.
Hello loves!
Happy June! In 21 (shortening) days, it will be summer. Exhale.
How are you feeling?
Excited about summer? Dreading something you anticipate? Just playing this day as it lays?
While summer is the season of “luminous gifts” according to our Mary Oliver, there is no season without suffering, and we are certainly experiencing our fair share of it.
At my most afraid, I cling to a comment that a volunteer made at a local astronomy event my dearest, nerdiest (read: coolest) friends invited me and my mom to in April: “Everything in the universe moves, we just gotta hold on.”
(Another astronomy reminder I need: TO GET OUT IN THE SUN!)
Whatever you’re navigating, just hold on. If we’re smart, we can let time do the work for us.
This month features personal news, a small/it’s good enough because it has to be practice, and the thing(s) I’m loving most lately.
If you don’t have the time or energy to read right now, please go take care of yourself. You can come back here anytime.
Inhale, exhale, step outside.
An Artist’s Way
The big news this month is that my partner and I are vacating our beloved Arlington, VA apartment this week after 3 years. Terrifying. Exciting. Exhilarating. Exhausting. It was our first home together, our COVID safe haven, a place where we grew closer to dear friends, grew the most as a couple. I will always remember our wide view of Georgetown and the National Cathedral from our tiny balcony, the sunlight striking our plants at midday, seeing the sunset reflected off the turquoise glass of a nearby building.
But I won’t miss Washington DC in the same way I’ll miss the reason I’ve lived here for over 11 years - the people. I’ll miss friends that became family, the coworkers that witnessed and supported me, the strangers that surprised and delighted me. I grew up in DC, entered the “real world” here with my first big girl job and big city apartment in July 2011, a mere two months after college graduation. I came with no clue and am leaving with maybe one or two. I found my bottom and then the sun-pierced opening of a way up and out. And I met the love of my life here, my dear bubsy, the person who reminds me what the real work is and why we do it.
The move has been a longgggg process of decluttering, sifting, lifting, storing, giving. I leaned on the Artist Way lessons: go slow, trust the process, get rid of what doesn’t reflect us anymore. We put what we can’t travel with but want to keep in a small storage unit and donated/sold the rest.
I got through it remembering Julia’s note in Chapter 8 on time: to stop wasting time debating how to spend it wisely and just spend it. Just do. Do something NOW that gets you where you want to go. What particularly resonated in Chapter 8 is Julia’s comment that artists tend to have an “addiction to anxiety”, which keeps us fretting about our grandiose futures instead of doing the small, unsexy, necessary things to help ourselves in real time (*raises hand meekly).
It was hard to keep going each day (especially while recovering from COVID - do not recommend) and it’s hard to let go of this place, these roots. But as my teacher Cath reminded me, we are simply “moving onto the next cycle, without a lot of baggage.”
And remember an Instagram post I saw a while back and think of (though forget to practice) often:
It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly…Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them… throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you… trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly… on tiptoes and no luggage… completely unencumbered.
— Aldous Huxley
Instead of “steady as she goes”, I’m thinking “light as she goes” as I approach my first summer in 17 years without a fixed home or source of income.
We don’t know what the future holds or where we’ll land. As deeply unsettling as this is, I’m learning (very slowly, forever and always) to let go of control and accept that no person, least of all me, has the answers. That if I go light, if I try less, maybe it’ll turn out alright. (Don’t worry, I will promptly forget this wisdom and have to remember it the hard way all over again, repeatedly).
This summer, we’ll be continuing to tend to loved ones at our family homes and travel a bit when we can.
I get to make my own choices and bathe in the luxury of my fortune. I pray that I can soothe the guilt for long enough to recover, to rediscover, and reemerge more fully energized and myself than ever. I can’t offer anyone anything if I having nothing of myself to give, and right now - I’m on empty.
And while my first self-employed OOO is now officially on for sabbatical summer, you/your organization can join the Mindful Breathing for Stress Relief workshop waitlist for the Fall (and beyond) here.
(And I’ll still send this love letter each month).
This season, my hope is to go easy, be gentle, to not panic about the future and “business” but allow myself the joy to explore creative work with the sense of freedom and flexibility that fewer commitments allows.
It’s not coincidence that I’m on Chapter 9 for June: Recovering a Sense of Compassion. Julia summarizes:
One of the most important tasks in artistic recovery is learning to call things—and ourselves—by the right names. Most of us have spent years using the wrong names for our behaviours. We have wanted to create what we want to create and we have been unable to create and we have called that inability laziness. This is not merely inaccurate, It is cruel. Accuracy and compassion serve us far better.
Blocked artists are not lazy. They are blocked.
May we unlearn the ways we’ve been unkind to ourselves and one another.
I wish you creativity in whatever form during this season of luminous gifts.
P.S. For those of you just joining the newsletter, I started working through The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron (for the second time) in October 2021 and sharing my process/progress here a chapter a month. It’s essentially a (12 step - go figure!) recovery program geared toward rediscovering our truest creative selves. It is what got me to this place - resigning from my job, creating my own business, praying, teaching, writing, moving and laughing and playing more, loving better. In short: finding my way to a more honest, current self. There are SO MANY GEMS in the workbook, even if you peruse it just for the famous artist quotes in the margins or do the tasks to kill time. It’s hard work, but the good kind. People come to it when they’re ready. You can read more about why creativity = love here and buy it here (there’s also a post-retirement edition). I stopped filling out the Practice Plan I created for us months ago bc it turns out 2022 is NOT less stressful than 2021 lol, but holler if you want an updated one!
Practice: One breath
I didn’t get my act together in time to produce a quality practice recording. I consistently underestimate how long things take, and at 12:23AM on June 1 after 5 failed recording attempts (tech is being a brat today!), I had to let it go. Thank you for your understanding.
For now, let’s keep it simple:
Place a hand to your chest (if comfortable)
Notice the contact your body makes with itself
Inhale fully; notice your chest expand
Exhale completely; notice your chest fall
Repeat as many times as you choose (option to close the eyes)
If you prefer the audio experience, option to revisit our May recording.
Loving Lately: Murder and Carbs
Given the circumstances, my artist dates have been orchestrated in the brief interludes of supine pose between swaths of to-dos.
More specifically, carbo-loading in a hot bath while binging season two of Castle Rock (Hulu), a show inspired (& produced) by horror writer Stephen King.
How are you being kind to yourself lately?
Thank you, thank you for your time and attention. I appreciate it more than I can articulate.
I’ll leave you with this delightful reminder that my GSA yoga & mindfulness mentor, Monica, sent me in a wonderfully thoughtful goodbye card from the team:
"When breathing doesn't work, try dancing," says the Sloth.
To (lightly) busting all sorts of moves,
Colby
This monthly letter is given freely with love. If you’d like to support or show appreciation for my work, option to Venmo any amount to @Colby-Sheffer. Thank you dear!