I had been keeping in touch with an old colleague of mine and recently when I asked if she wanted to get together after work sometime, she replied, “After work? You don’t have an after work. You can do anything anytime. I’m not sure that our friendship can continue because I just don’t know how to react to you anymore. We’re not on the same wave length anymore. You’ve got freedom, time, no pressure. You’re happy and everything is easy for you. I just don’t know how to relate anymore.”

After reading that I was a little confused. Certainly she wasn’t talking about me, was she? Because that doesn’t describe me at all.

But then I looked at my situation from her perspective and how I saw things from the 9-5 world. It was then I understood; because I am passionate about what I’m currently doing, and because I only offer most of the good news (because for the first time ever, the good news is outweighing the bad) everything I do must seem easy. I suppose that’s a credit to me that I can make it seem that way, because the reality of it, is that it is all still a struggle. Only this time, I’m willing to be in it.

There’s still so much that I have to learn, so much I have to grasp. There’s issues that I tend to struggle every day with - like money. My art classes cost quite a bit, not to mention my supply list. I’ve been putting off buying the supplies because I have no idea how I will afford them when my class starts in October. Chris is starting back to school in September and I can see the power struggle over time for the computer already.

If I was in my 9-5 world, I could buy the Ibook that I want within one paycheque. Now, I have to save and wait. Instead of getting praise everyday for a great report I did or how I helped out, I’m getting rejection letters instead. Instead of taking my regular 9am break with the girls to talk, I work straight through on the computer, alone, until 2 in the afternoon. I have constant pressure to come up with wonderful lines of words for deadlines that have no give. I have insecurities about the quality of my work and my creativity. Sometimes this all seems surreal and I feel like I don’t fit in. Sometimes, it’s just all a little too hard.

But, to me, it’s all worth it. For the first time I feel that I am in an intimate struggle and that it is somehow beautiful and meaningful. I feel I’m finally apart of something rather than trying to distance myself from it. I feel like I have found myself again. I feel younger, happier, and I suppose despite all, more free. I’m excited so much more than I used to be and I finally feel like I have purpose. And I suppose that is why I seem to talk less and less about the struggle and frustrations and more and more about the excitement.

Because I understand you can’t have one without the other.

I’m not the kind of soul who generally sits around all day and waits for things to happen but over the past couple of years that’s what I did.

I secretly held the belief that someone would come and rescue me from my creative boredom. Someone would discover my talent and unleash it. Something would magically happen and I’d have all the creativity, passion, and excitement I wanted mysteriously given to me. Even though I had always worked for things and created my life, subconsciously a part of me thought that something would just “happen” without me having to make any effort and that working for a dream seemed almost silly.

I remember after I had met Sark, even though I hadn’t ever thought of her helping me before, afterwards I secretly thought the phone would ring, she’d hook me up with the right people, tell me what I need to do and my life would be taken care of.

I waited around the phone a little for a few days before I realised that only I could make things happen by showing up each day and putting in some effort.

That sounds obvious now. But when you have no direction at first, or when things are overwhelming, sometimes you just want to throw your hands in the air and yell, “Here I am! Come find me!”

That is why I feel extremely proud and happy of everything that’s going on now. It’s all happening is because I went out looking for it and I created it. Nothing was handed to me. No one told me about all this or helped me realise things. I showed up. I put the effort in.

That’s big a great lesson for me, and also a sneaky one. Because before I never realised that I was waiting because I thought I was a take charge person. But I see now that I was, even if it was just a little.

But not anymore.

I have decided, rather forcefully, to take back my mornings. Or rather, my writing.

Over the past two weeks, I have to admit to doing almost no writing. No writing on this website really, no writing for magazines, no writing on postcards even.

My mind has just been absorbing all the changes, I’ve been finally getting everything together, I’ve been making so many discoveries and I’ve been busy.

And I don’t look at the above as excuses, because they’re not. I think what has kept me busy and occupied the past two weeks have been extremely important. Because I am more than just writing, and I’m finally expressing all that I am.

However, I have missed writing. I have missed my rituals that I did. My mornings of breakfast, yoga, dancing and writing had been replaced with haphazard awakenings met with scrambling for busses here and there to this place and that, for this art interview or that class or trying to deal with everything at once. I haven’t spent much time at home.

But I woke up at 8am this morning, refreshed and ready to go. I moved myself into the den, shut the door, opened the window and put the blinds up, and sat myself in front of the computer. Now I’m ready to take on the morning - even if it’s Sunday.

For me, I need to have the ritual of writing, a time set aside. Even when all I was doing was writing it was important for me to have just the mornings set aside for writing. This was especially odd to me since I had always been a night owl. But the mornings always seemed undisturbed, fresh, relaxed, and it just seemed the perfect quiet time for just me to write.

I think now, it’s especially vital that I carve out time for writing because of all the art classes & programs I’m in - not to mention time with Chris that is important as well. And if I don’t keep the mornings to myself, the writing could easily disappear. The afternoons and evenings always have plans and the end of the day I’m tired and uncreative. But the mornings, their mine, all mine. There’s no excuse not to get up, sit down, and write.

And since writing is so important to me, I have to make the time to do it. If I don’t, then nothing happens, and I feel like I’ve come too far to just let it all go.

It’s not just about the writing anymore.

I interviewed for the Docent Program at the Art Museum today. During the interview one of the two women looked at my application and said to me, “I see that you’re a freelance writer, tell us a little about that.”

I told them how I had left Corporate America in April because filing, stapling and collating were not my passions. I told them how now I get to write all day and actually become excited when I wake up in the morning. I told them

I no longer hate Mondays. I told them that my philosophy on writing is to make the ordinary, extraordinary. I told them I was finally happy and felt that I had conquered a huge fear and that I was ready to conquer more.
They were very impressed. They said to me that I spoke with passion. One of the women said, “Listening to you makes me feel like picking up a pen again.”

Then they asked me why I wanted to be in the program. I told them it was because when I began to write I felt at peace and I also felt amazing but asked myself, “Why stop there?” I discovered that I wanted to learn art as well but then I asked myself, “Why stop there?” And that’s when I decided I wanted a career in art and found out about the program at the Museum. I told them that I felt the program was perfect for me because I am so eager to learn and share my excitement and passion for art. I told them how I felt I had always pushed aside my creativity for the greater good of Corporate America but now was my time to learn and indulge. I told them that that this program seemed like it would give me guidance, show me different paths of art and careers in it. It would let me explore, learn and play. I told them that’s exactly what I wanted.

They accepted me on the spot.

Things are coming together and I am starting to form some kind of wonderful beginning. I’m writing every day, I’m being published by two magazines in September and October, I’ve sent out specs to several others and am working with them on being published. I’ve enrolled in two art classes & I’m now in the Docent Program at the Art Gallery.

This would not have been possible several months ago. My mind had different priorities then. Before, I had to worry about keeping my co-workers happy, looking after the office, stapling, how much money I was making and was I being paid fairly. I had to worry about commuting, about buying clothes that were “appropriate” for the office and I had to worry about what my image was and what people thought of me when I told them my title. I had to worry about how tired I’d be when I got home. I worried that I had lost myself and the life I wanted would never begin.

By realising that I am a writer and creative person has changed my perspective so completely. I now realise how much I can do and want to do. I know that going in a new direction isn’t such a crazy and useless idea and that what ever I want to be I can be - even if others don’t see it or believe it.

I realised how listening to my heart and forgetting everything else, makes me feel complete.

I’ve been thinking a lot about intent lately. I’m the sort that always believed it was the end result that mattered; it didn’t mean anything if you intended to write an article but you didn’t. But I’m starting to believe that intention matters just a little - at least true intention. Not the kind where you were just plain cruel to someone and then when you realise how much you’ve hurt them you use the excuse, “Well, it was just my intention to give you some feedback.” True intention is sometimes harder to realise.

I think about what my intention for this site was: to get a simply message out. That message being that an ordinary girl, who has no degree, no special education or training, can become something she wants to be, even if it’s completely different than something she ever was. She could be anything as long as she wanted it, and she tried.

I never made this site with the intention of becoming famous, or showing off. I never made it with the intention to have a platform on which to bitch and moan without purpose. I just wanted to show people that dreams aren’t something for other people to have. And although this site is being written about a lot, and I garner some attention once in awhile, the intention of this site is living loudly and clearly and making its mark. To me, that’s perfect.

I’ve had more emails than I can count from people of various ages, backgrounds, sexes, and countries, telling me how this site has helped them. Not one person ever wanted to emulate me or be me. They never wanted to do exactly what I’m doing. What this site did, was give them strength to be them.

The end result followed the intention. And that’s what success is, I think.

It’s getting contrived again, isn’t it?

I feel like I should have something amazing to say, something new to share, or even just some random useful thought. But the fact is, I don’t.

I’ve been so busy the last little while that I haven’t had time to really reflect on a daily basis all that’s been happening. I wanted to be busy so I’d have something to write about, and now I’m so busy that I just don’t care about writing it all in here, isn’t that strange?

I suppose that’s one frustration of being a writer - you’re always thinking of something to write. Everything you do you try to fit into a story somehow. You try to think how to describe it, how to reflect on it, how to get meaning from it. Your mind is always working, and sometimes, that can ruin the moment.

So the past week I’ve just given up on trying to account for everything and decided to just do things and go with the flow. For the first time in a long time I’m just satisfied with being in the moment and looking forward to the next, rather than trying to record it all.

The bad part about that, however, is that when I get a little downtime, I try to haphazardly slap it all down into words. Then I feel like perhaps the feeling of what I was trying to say was lost, and all the words seemed too contrived. And I feel like perhaps I’ve failed somehow.

But the strange thing is, if that’s the case, I’m ok with it. For right now at least. I’ve put so much effort into all this, so much thought and motion, that I feel like I’m entitled to start enjoying it all. I’m finally doing what I love, and I’m starting some new things, and I don’t want to let it all pass my by and only remember it according to some words. I want to remember it in feelings too.

The other day I started to receive an unusual amount of email. And not only was it the amount that was unusual, but what they said. They were all saying, “Congratulations!” The problem is, I had no idea what they were talking about.

Apparently, I had won some contest and my URL was passed out in a mass mailing. In two days, this site that receives around 1000 hits a day received over 30,000. I was absolutely floored by that.

All the email I received was positive. Really positive. I received a lot of beautiful personal stories, a lot of good lucks and a lot of people saying they were inspired. I felt really good.

But then, I also began to feel really really crappy because most of those emails were critical. Critical in a good way, I realise now, but still critical. I was used to people just complimenting about the general tone and message of the website. I hadn’t had people pick it apart before.

The number one criticism was my grammar and spelling. My first reaction was to say, “Well, you try living in 4 countries that all spell English differently and see how confused you are.” A lot of people had thought I spelled realise wrong and added u’s where there shouldn’t be u’s. That made me defensive. I also wanted to point out that my grammar was supposed to be bad! “It’s not an article!” I wanted to scream, “it’s a bloody free flowing writing page!”

But I didn’t say any of this. Instead I just replied and said thank you, and was quietly defiant by not listening to any of them.

“I’ll leave my page as it is. I don’t care what they say - I like it.”

I suppose that’s what we’d call too smug for your own good.

I realised after that I was being stupid, and that what they had to say was not only valid, but right. I claim to be a writer yet I had stupid mistakes like mmore and double word usage.

That night, instead of remaining defensive, I decided to become humbled. I stayed up until 5:30 am re-working almost every sentence on this site. I spell checked, I grammar checked. I rechecked and over checked. Check one two and three.

I felt better after it all, and even slightly embarrassed by my previous attitude.

It taught me to pay more attention and take this all more seriously. Even though I consider this to be only a journal of sorts, it is still a reflection in some ways of my work. And that the message can’t get out there if people can’t understand it.

Criticism - especially deserved criticism - it’s something I have to get used to, I know. I have been lucky with that the current things I am having published were accepted almost as is. However, I know in the future, some editor will tare my work to pieces. And I don’t want it to be over spelling and grammar - that’s for sure.

When I began all this, my only intention was to write. At the time, my goal was small and clear. I had a passion burning inside me and I had to let it out. And at the time that I decided to become a writer, not only was I proud, but satisfied.

However, the most amazing thing has been happening to me over the last few weeks. My understanding of who I am and what I can do has changed dramatically. Possibilities along side new directions have been coming my way. I couldn’t have imagined this the day I left my office job.

I think, perhaps, that’s a good thing that I started out small. Because taking that one small step, to write, was scary and overwhelming. If I had tried to conquer the universe back then, I don’t think I would have ever left my office cube.

But it’s like I said once before, your mind starts rolling if you take just one step. One idea can lead to another and in no time at all you’ll have a plethora of ideas where you were once blocked. You just have to make the effort to start somewhere, and have faith that the answers or ideas you really need will come later.

Although I’ve actually been doing a lot of writing, and will be published shortly, I had felt that something was missing. A week ago I was in a state of confusion because I felt I could be more than I was. But I had no idea what to do. I cleared my mind one night and made some self-realisations, and then I had a strange dream that made everything perfectly clear to me.

On that night of the 7th, after I had spent some time alone I had the dream where I was living with my father. He was saying to me how I should move because the bus system where we lived wasn’t very good and wouldn’t get me to the school on time. I asked what school and he said, “That great computer school.”

“What are you talking about,” I asked.

“You’re going to that computer school to get a degree in the Internet. That’s what you’re good at. That’s where your talents are. That’s what you’ve done in the past and that’s what you know.”

I looked at him and said, “No dad, I’m not going there.”

He looked at me in utter disbelief and said, “Why not?”

And I said simply, “I want a career in art.”

Then I looked at myself in the dream, which was eerie. I smiled and at that moment, I woke up. I was in shock.

For the first time, ever, I had said the phrase, “I want a career in art.”

Before I had always said something like “I want to be around art” or “I want to learn art.” I always thought of it as a side thing, because I never thought I’d ever be able to have a job in it - especially since my entire work history has been in the office and geared toward linear jobs. I also felt that I couldn’t ever be an artist, because I wasn’t either good enough, clever enough nor had enough time to learn.

However saying, “I want a career in art,” - even a dream - opened up something inside me. It made me realise that’s what I want. That was the missing link. I didn’t just want to be a writer, I didn’t just want to take an art class. I wanted to have my career be in art. But how? That I couldn’t figure out. Like I said, me entire work history had done nothing but train me for office jobs. I had no degrees, no skill, no previous employment that could lead me into a career in art. It seemed impossible.

The dream had left me with a huge want though; it was the missing link I was looking for. So that morning I decided that I had to figure out how to get a career in art. So the first thing I thought I should do would be to enrol in some kind of introductory art class, to get my mind going and my body physically doing something in art. I’m lucky that I live by two fabulous art centres and they were taking applications for fall classes. I found two brilliant introductory art classes and immediately signed up for them.

It could have ended there, but then I found an even bigger step for me to take. The art gallery where one of my classes is has a nine-month training program for becoming a Docent. It teaches you art history, interpreting art, speaking on art, giving guided tours through the museum and teaching art classes to children and adults. It’s a volunteer program that you have to apply for, and the best part is, it’s only one morning a week. That, I thought would help me immensely. That could point me in the direction I want to go in. That would give me some grounding. So I applied and today I spoke with the education department and I have an interview next week.

I’ve taken bigger steps than I ever thought I could have, and the strange thing is, it’s no longer scary and it doesn’t seem impossible. Not only does it seem exciting, but also it seems right. I’m starting to feel more like myself. I feel like I am taking charge of not only who I am, but also what I want, and that is just one of the most powerful, exhilarating feelings you could ever have.

It doesn’t happen over night, but, if you start with one small step, it does happen. And maybe you don’t have all the answers up front; maybe the first few months are scary as hell. But I am such a true believer, that when you make the decision to follow your heart and take control of what you want, that the universe will provide you with all you need.

Because at this point, how can I say otherwise?

I received an email from Andrea Scher, who is a jewellery designer, artist, and all around fabulous person. She said, “To think that by creating art, I can not only make a living, but also be in community with amazing people like you, makes me feel like the luckiest girl ever. If I was just creating a product, en masse, and there was nothing connecting me to the world, I would feel kind of empty. Yuck.”

To me, this was such a beautiful statement; it sums up a lot of my feelings about my website and what I’ve received from it. When I first started all this, I felt like I was the only one going through all these fears and insecurities. I thought if I could somehow be published, that the fear would be gone and I would have “made it.” I tried to focus on the end result. But that didn’t work.

So instead I started to contact artists - not for advice, but just complimenting them on what I liked about their work or their site. And the strange thing is, they all replied to me - every single one. And every single one of them told me that they felt fear and insecure sometimes. That they had the down days and the up days. They told me they related to what I had said.

Now, it wasn’t just writers that said this, it was artists, illustrators, authors, and performers. They made me feel that not only was I not alone, but I was apart of some amazing group. A group that gave unconditional support, encouragement, inspiration and, when you needed it, a good kick in the arse. In any event, my emails and friendships with these artists made me feel more secure about my choice and that I wasn’t a freak or alone. It made me go from feeling like a wannabe, to the real deal. I think it also changed my intention.

Instead of doing everything with the feeling of having to prove something, I was able to relax and just to what I love to do without worrying about its outcome so much. I realised that writing makes me happy, being a part of this community makes me happy, and anything else is just icing on the cake.

I don’t think there will ever be a “safe place” or a “safe time” for as long as I’m an artist. I think that has been one of my biggest realisations.

I’ll always get blocks, I’ll stumble over something. My head will be in a funk, I’ll feel useless and scared. Sometimes this won’t seem worth it, it’ll seem too much. I’ll feel less than or just plain stupid. That’s life.

I know, however, that I’ll also feel amazing, more alive than anything, accomplished, happy, at peace, flip flop flyin’.

There’s no guarantee to anything, ever. All you can do is make efforts. I’m learning how to make mine despite the constant company of fear.

It’s funny, but people always want proof. Proof that I’m a writer, or an artist, or that I’m happy or that I’m sad. Why can’t the fact that I just am be enough? Because it is enough for me.

My fear is that because I have no valid proof for some, that what I say or what I do is discounted. I’m not credible. Who am I to be telling people to chase a dream if I haven’t had proof of success? I feel like sometimes that might discourage people from wanting to jump ship and try something they’ve always wanted to try.

I think one thing I’ve learned from all of this though, is that as an artist or writer, you don’t ever feel 100% accomplished, finished, secure, or that feeling of “I’ve made it and now it’s enough.” All the artists that I’ve ever talked to, have echoed this. Each day can be scary or wonderful. The only difference is, you feel better about it all.