Room To Breath

Can I be candid for a moment? Yes? Oh, thankyousomuch. There are times when my cupeth runeth dry. Real dry.

And I think that sometimes, in the midst of the desert, you need to give yourself a little grace. A little freedom. And a little room to work itself out.

Last month I was feeling dry - extra dry. Stranded in the Mojave, dry. So instead of editing or blogging or returning emails, I gave myself an afternoon. One afternoon. I sat in the backyard and sorted through piles of my grandmother’s china. And then, as if for the first time someone had told me I was an artist, I created. Something pretty, and shiny, and colorful. Some place I would be excited to eat a meal.

Sometimes I think we deserve more of a break than we allow ourselves. Our souls deserve a break. A few moments to do something that really feeds the deepest part of our hearts. For you fellow artists, most of the time that means creating something just for you.

I’ve found that every time I take the time to do this – to give myself space – the rest of my work benefits greatly. It’s like we all simultaneously take one, giant, wonderful breath.

…of fresh air.

Happy Thursday, Michelle

Find What You Love

I’m a dreamer. It’s what keeps me awake at night, refuses to let me shut up, and exhausts the bejebus out of Colton.

It is also the reason I cannot, for the life of me, stop watching Ted videos.

It was the first day of spring term and as I walked into class awkwardly late I prayed for an open seat next to someone, anyone, looking remotely familiar. EXSS 371 was the course – Measurement and Data Analysis in Exercise and Sport Science - and the reputation preceding it was notoriously le boring. I averted eye contact as I entered the third floor room and fortunately found a seat close to the front – hoping to redeem my tardy self and appear extra studious. Without an introduction, a hello, or even a warm, teacherly greeting, our professor began class, sans speaking, with a YouTube video projected onto the room’s wall sized white board. It was spring of 2008 and yet it was the first time I had ever heard a word of Steve Jobs’ Stanford commencement speech. It was also the catalyst for my present day love affair with the mind behind the Macintosh (and the iPod and iMac and iPhone and iPad…).

I was three years late and a few schools off, but for fifteen minutes I sat absolutely certain Apple’s CEO was speaking directly to me. For the first time in my academic career I felt as though someone was validating me –unconventional, irresponsible, spontaneous, creative me. And it.was.liberating!

I’ve returned to this speech many, many times over the past few years. When I’m feeling like a complete and utter mess {which as it turns out is more than you'd like to know}. When I’m feeling hopeless and cannot manage to connect even one dot in my life to another. And when I simply feel as though I’m a total failure - at everything, these words seem to make the medicine a little easier to swallow. For even if I spend my whole life pursuing a dream that yields no fruit, I will have spent my days doing something I love.

And this will have made me a very rich woman in spirit.