Every week I write an update and invite everyone in the Creative Dream Circle to share their updates.
It’s an update on walking the path to a dream, and on being in the process of transformation.
Being in the process is hard, sometimes.? Sharing updates is a way of grounding yourself in your process – plus it helps you notice things you wouldn’t otherwise notice.
Last week, in writing my update, I noticed that skipping my first-thing-in-the-morning journaling session is really, really bad for me.
I need this practice as the doorway into my day.
Like, this doorway leads to the day I want to be having.? Other doorways – like skipping my practice and getting right to work – don’t lead to the day I want to be having.
So, I discovered this while writing last week’s update.
Then Monday came, and my inbox was overflowing.
And I thought, well, I’d like to just get to those emails first.? So my mind is clear and I don’t have any energy going towards “all these emails I need to respond to”.
And it won’t take that long, really…
Which is bullshit.
I know that it’s important for my self-care that I start my day with my creative journaling practice.? Any reason I have for not doing that is just a bullshit excuse.
I know this because later on in the morning, once I’d already had my bike ride and coffee and the day was bright, I opened up my journal and hit a huge wall of resistance.
I snapped my journal shut and put it away.
And I knew that I hadn’t skipped my first-thing-in-the-morning practice because I wanted to get to those emails.
I skipped my first-thing-in-the-morning practice because I was afraid of what I’d find when I dove in.
Meeting resistance.? This is a part of the practice.
Some days it’s terrifying to open up a journal because of what you’ll find when you start writing.? You can feel it, sitting underneath the surface, and you’d like to leave it there, hidden, where you can’t really see it.
Except, of course, you’re carrying it. In your mind and your body and your energy field.
You look at the world through the lens of the things you carry, so when you leave it there, hidden beneath the surface, you’re letting it alter your possibilities.
You resist looking at the thing because you’re afraid of how it’s going to feel to face and you worry that you can’t change it anyway so why bother.
But in avoiding the sharp pain of dealing with your stuff you are choosing to live with the dull ache of letting your stuff dull your possibilities.
We all do this, on some level.
Committing to your practice is a commitment to live from your brightest possibilities, and a commitment to doing the work to get there.
It’s messy and hard and some days you just fall down and don’t get up but that’s ok.? Get up when you can.? Keep going one baby step at a time.? Come back to it.
Your practice is a container that holds this process of you being more and less committed, always inviting you deeper into it.