Season of Discomfort

I woke up at 4:45 this morning with a pounding headache already negotiating with myself all of the reasons why I should stay in bed and not go to my workout class. I'm really good at doing this, my brain is amazingly efficient at finding the easiest road to laziness and procrastination. I'm just as good though and have learned how to counterattack with things like, "just go workout and you can go back to bed when you get home". I never do, but it's a great way to get her to agree.

On my quiet drive to my workout class, my "always looking out for me" brain, kicked into high gear with some really great negative talk, filling the silence with all the reasons I should be doing something else with my life and where I've gone wrong. She likes to put things under a microscope and dissect my past decisions. She'll leave me love notes with things like, "are you really supposed to be an artist? Maybe you are better off doing something else" or "you know, you paid for college to be a designer, and now look at you, barely making it trying to be an artist" or my favorite one, "maybe everybody was right and artists really can't make a living creating their art, they really are just starving artists."

Don't get me wrong, for the most part, my brain is kind to me. Most days she is positive and truly loving. It's only when I'm weak, either tired and emotionally drained, or hormonal (pre-menopause), that she kicks in with these sweet little anecdotes. She really is only trying to help. You see, for her it's about finding the path to the least resistance and keeping me from feeling the pain of failure or success. There has been a lot of personal, business, and familial hardships and growth this last year. It has been a season of discomfort. So she has had some great opportunities to create moments of self-doubt.

Three paragraphs into my post and you are probably trying to figure out what my point is. Yeah, me too. 

Anyway, I return home from my workout, and begin my morning chores: let the chickens out of their coop, feed the cats, the dog, and the bird, make some coffee, and take an aspirin for that damn headache that just won't go away. I slowly walk to my mailbox, still doubting some of my life choices, and inside is a small package from an art friend, Angelo. I met Angelo through Facebook. He invited me to do an art demo at one of his art group meetings for the Alden Art Group last year. I had a great time, met a bunch of really great people, and got to meet Angelo face-to-face. 

I wonder what it could be?

Instantly my brain has something else to play with and my self-doubt is replaced with interest and excitement. I open the package and it's a book written by Angelo. He inscribed the inside cover, "Nikki, I hope you enjoy sitting on my porches."

I cried. Look, I told you I have been emotional.

What an incredibly thoughtful and sweet gift. An art friend, who I may never have met had I not trotted down the artist path, thought of me.

Instantly, all of those nasty thoughts were gone, and I sat down and wrote a list all of the things that I am grateful for, the first being all of the amazing and wonderful people that I have met.   

Thank you Angelo for considering me. You gave me a moment to pause and reset myself. I truly appreciate it and I cannot wait to read your book. 

You can support Angelo and purchase his book for $10.00 - just leave a comment below or contact me via my form.