Creative Life Midwife

Inspiring Artistic Rebirth

Time Out for Yourself

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It isn’t even 8 pm this evening and the way I am feeling right now,  I could very happily climb under the covers and fall asleep for the night.

It has been a busy couple of days AND I feel like I ought to be focused on “important” things. “Just one more task,” I tell myself. “Just one more action…”

I came home a bit ago and put on sweats and an old comfy hoodie and started to do some of the “important” things when I realized, “I don’t have to do anymore. I have stretched myself and if I want to climb into bed and read a novel for an hour and go to sleep, it doesn’t make me any less of a person.”

If I lie down with a novel and read, I am one who honors what I’ve gotten accomplished and will trust myself to wake up more refreshed and ready to take on tomorrow.

While this doesn’t sound heroic, the precedent I am setting for myself is, I believe, a good one.

I just flashed on myself in the hospital bed in ICU three months ago.

Did I find fault with myself then?

There is no need to find fault with myself now.

May your evening (or morning or afternoon) be blessed. May you give yourself to rest when you feel the desire and need to rest.

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Bridge to the New Year: One Word #OLW 2018 – 2019?

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Here is one of the ways I find images for the content I create: I go to my flickr account – the one I have had for more than ten years and holds a huge repository of photos.

I do a quick search and up pop usually related possibilities. Today I searched FREE and a garden I used to visit as a child popped up.

I may have literally asked, “Why are these showing up as “free” when it hit me.

I only felt happiness here at Freeman Gardens.

It was an oasis, I remember walkign along the path in the back corner that felt like a wilderness, carrying my hand-me-down brownie camera taking photos.

On my walk to school in the Spring, I tasted honeysuckles growing on her fences.

I “bridged up” in an early ritual of growing toward being a woman. Each earnest little girl walked over a rickety bridge we only knew to trust.

Katherine and I visited after she graduated from Smith in May, 2014 and she is who you see in the photo above.

I felt freedom and love when I visited Katherine again, in May 2018. At this point she was married, had graduated from seminary, and was being ordained. My freedom seems slightly ironic because I was without a car but I read two novels, saw many friends from long ago and friends from livestreaming I had never met face-to-face and I regretted not planning better but in retrospect I was grateful for the freedom of no expectations.

My one word, one little word, Theme Word, whatever it might be described for 2018 was “Freedom” usually declared with a smug look on my face. Well, that smug was wiped away within the first three weeks of the year when I lost final shreds of friendships and the trajectory toward a lot of uncomfortable disengagement flooded my reality.

As little as six weeks ago I was ready to declare 2018 another in what felt like a long line of disappointing failures until… I gained clarity, like when I found this photo and realized this park – called “Freeman Gardens” which is probably why it showed up in the search – was a place I only knew happiness. While I had a fairly normal childhood, there was a lot of sadness, a lot of not-so-great episodes amidst the outward semblance of Father Knows Best and the Donna Reed Show.

2018 did show me freedom, also, simply in surprising ways.

I experienced freedom to let go of people and circumstances that caused more pain than promise, the freedom to say no or “I am not sure” or “not this time.”

I gave myself the freedom to be bad at things and I even gave myself the permission to ask people to participate in activities because I didn’t feel comfortable to do them alone and people even said yes on more occasions than not.

Turns out freedom wasn’t such a bad word for the year afterall.

Next year: right now for some reason Declaration and Proclamation are both attempting to get my attention. As usual, I am giving them space while still leaving the door open to other suitors.

Tell me about your One Word, #OLW or whatever you call it for 2018 and if you are not sure right now for 2019 that is completely fine, too.

This post is a part of Bridge to the New Year, a collaborative project/initiative between Creative Life Midwife and JuicyJournaling.com  Each day during December we will be offering prompts to guide participants through the process of reviewing and reflecting the year and setting a framework (roadmap, intention) for the New Year. There is also a facebook group with discussion, videos and more.

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The Song You Have Been Singing May Not Be the Best For You: Rewriting Your Narrative

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I’m about to share an actual thought I had two days ago. I haven’t shared this yet due to mortification and hoping if I procrastinate long ago it will just go away and the true confessions of Julie narrative might be an episodic program that gets canceled right after the pilot.

Unfortunately or fortunately I also know the most productive action I can take is… writing and hitting publish. Rewriting in my new snazzy pleather journal I bought specifically so I could categorize my old and new narrative and find a new way because quite frankly that old one was clearly not serving the world or me very well.

I received a facebook messenger post from a playwright I met probably eight or nine years ago. I was in the play he wrote and my friend directed. I never felt like he was happy with my portrayal of his character and never really felt like he even liked me at all.

Fast forward and more confession, I don’t feel like the man who directed that production likes me anymore either, not that I would be brave enough to actually sit down with him and say, “What’s up?”… yet, anyway.

“Why did you send this to me?” as I read the post. I started singing inside, too, like a catchy commercial jungle: “You know you hate me, you know you do.” Over and over and over my mind sang this ditty until the conscious Julie swooped in and said, “What the Hell, Self? This man has NEVER told you he hated you just STOP STOP STOP and rethink and rewrite NOW!”

I obviously rethought but you know the rest of the story: I’ve been sitting on the avoidance of writing this for three days.

The facts are, I don’t know if this particular individual has even thought of me once since we worked together.

<< I left the keyboard again, this time for about 36 hours, to digest and move forward.>>

The truth is this:

I have bruises from long ago and I have current bruises that become tender when I am tired or feel alone or left out or unsure.

I am triggered by the thought that people don’t like me and I risk being alone in the majority of my life.

The overlying truth is I have the choice to make insignificant actions mean whatever I choose to make them mean. This message may have gone to every single facebook friend this person happens to have and I happen to be one of them.

I also have the choice to be gentle with myself when I say things that are hurtful towards myself. I have a lot of years to heal. From moment to moment I pledge to treat myself with as much love and respect I am capable of in that moment.

Finally, I can embrace the truth that most people enjoy my company after they meet and get to know me. Some people even like me right away. What really matters is whether or not I like me, whether or not I am enjoying my company. Whether or not I create a community and live in a community of people who care about me, my feelings, my growth and what I create.

I have the choice to make insignificant actions mean whatever I choose to make them mean.

Julie Jordan Scott inspires people to experience artistic rebirth via her programs, playshops, books, performances and simply being herself out in the world.  She is a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy-extraordinaire and mixed media artist whose Writing Camps and Writing Playgrounds permanently transform people’s creative lives. Watch for the announcement of new programs coming soon!

Contact Julie now to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

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Love for Systems and Structures: The Artist’s Dream Companion for Success

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“What sorts of systems and structures may I put into place that will support me and not feel like a noose around my neck?”

What makes a system?

What makes a structure?

What makes me think of them as a negative or something I don’t want?

I love mission statements, I enjoy guidelines, what makes me feel like I’m being strangled is this:

The first time I was witness and a victim of a “according to procedure 467.3” mentality I had recently lost Marlena. I had taken on a job as a Program Manager at a home for the developmentally disabled. It was the start of my getting underpaid for my work because I was holding on by a thread and needed to keep holding on and it felt like the best I could do.

This man (The one speaking about procedures and repeatedly parroting them back to me) was a bumbling bureaucrat, former state employee. He had worked at the dreaded state hospital my mind always told “avoid, avoid, avoid” and then he did the droning on about numbers and “the state the state the state” was something of a God at that place I worked and that was a natural turn off and fear inducer for me.

I remember being sick over that stupid, didn’t pay enough job.

I remember when I was stressing out about something and Katherine jerked in my belly and I freaked out more. I was literally in a chronic state of fear, a chronic state of “I am risking the worst pain in my life in order to have something really great but damn I feel like I myself am on the verge of death all the time!”

He was tall, on the edge of portly and was losing his hair.

He wore glasses. He bent his neck when he looked down at me and droned on about whatever whatchamacallit he was worshipping.
I wonder how many times my subconscious mind said, “I will never be like that blow hard, I will never, ever EVER be like that blow hard.”

He was a caricature of a small time good ol’ boy and therefore to be avoided at all costs.

I saw him as systems and structures personified.

Note to self: this bumbling bureaucrat was NOT systems and structures personified, he was a buffoon.

  • Let go of him as a representation of systems and structures – which are in place to support you – and start recreating your relationship with systems and structures which will keep your vision alive:
  • spiritual practices (Gratitude, Art, Meditation, Prayer)
  • timed writing daily
  • a calendar to keep track of appointments and tasks for long, medium and short term
  • a daily list of 5 passionate possibilities written the day prior.

These are systems that nurture and nourish.

These are structures upon which you may build your sustainable transformed life.Facebooktwitterpinterest