Malaised and Confused

My astrologer said this would happen.

Sometime in September, some aspect of my future working life would resolve and become clear, and I would have a genuine "A-HA!" moment, and not to sweat it in the interim, allowing myself to get antsy and a tad worried and fret.

Last night was a fret night. Yesterday was an antsy day. So I was thrilled to get an email that a hold was waiting for me at the library, because it was a copy of "Starting Your Small Business in Oregon" newest edition with CD of extras, and I would have something solid in my hands to dive into and feed the antsy beast. Forms, charts, checklists, sample conversations, info on lawyers and accountants and taxes. Ahhh, so much better. When in doubt, educate. Works every time. As does the music I checked out at the same time as the book, Chopin's Nocturnes 2CD set, Blues in the Desert, Bollywood classic soundtracks, and the big Crosby Stills & Nash boxed set with unreleased material, cuts I haven't heard 100s of times yet, soul food.

There's the Groovy Rhubarb booth. We're just coming out of the slow time of year and going into the busier time of year, so there's going to be more income there than before. My on-line store is always expandable, as I make more and post it, there's more to sell, simple equation. And no monthly rent to pay them.

So I dove into the "craft thing" this year, one of my goals since being laid off. Cool. Nice job! And I've been writing, here and on other ideas, and that was another huge goal. That's working---great! I enjoyed the spring and summer in the garden, working on growing and eating things that grow, another huge fantasy that is now my everyday life. Again, great job! So so happy about these things, and no regrets about any of it. So...anything I haven't done yet that I was carrying around all that time as a Borders wage slave as a dream in my heart? Other than that Johnny Depp thing?

Uh, ye-s-s, and I'm almost ashamed to bring it to light. Because there's no good reason to not do it, other than my own stupidness and shyness, and inner critic hang-ups.

Somehow, I made along the way some idiotic bargain with myself that I couldn't let myself dive back into painting again until I got all and everything else organized and taken care of and out of the way. Only then, could I reasonably paint again. Until the studio was perfect, the apartment all re-organized, the craft thing paying well, the writing flowing thick and fast again, only then is it okay to lay out the brushes and pore over the sketchbook for the right project to start. To activate yet another yearning to bring forward to the light, somehow I must earn it by being some sort of Cinderella of Tasks, then I can go to the Ball and be seen and real.

"Hello, Therapist-o-Rama, can I make a virtual appointment to discuss---"

"Press 1 for Freudian, press 2 for Jungian, press 3 for Buddhist, press 4 for Kabbalist, press 5 for Wakantakan, press 6 for Nietszche Nihilism, press 7 for Gender Issues, press 8 for New Age or Wiccan, press 9 for Come to Jesus, star for Alien Abduction, and the pound key for weight issues, 0 to repeat the menu."

So, I called the astrologer instead, a few months ago, and she gave me the heads-up about the mid-September malaise and uncertainty. So here we are. Malaise-ing and uncertain.

What a perfect time to bring out the canvas, I thought. I've been fighting with it all summer, all spring, too, when I said I needed to wait until Betty came and went for the best time. Then there appeared other reasons, good reasons, reasonable reasons, so I fought it some more. Make more pillows to sell, take down more LPs and books, clear out the studio, re-do the bedroom, iron all the new fabric, read the new book, do the dishes, weed the garden, vacuum, water the plants, take VHS tapes and CDs to the booth...I always lost the fight with painting. This weekend I have a project to finish, sweaters to take to the booth, more dishes to do.
I need to face it, that there are always going to be reasons to not-paint. But the fight is making me crazy.
So then my back acts up, I get that midday headache, by evening I'm restless, antsy and starting to fret.

We know what this is. The thing we are not letting ourselves do. Biting away our peace of mind and good intentions. So you can't really do anything else fully, either.

Time to walk around the block, get the mail, and watch the squirrels bury walnuts for a while. The referee just called for a Time-Out.