Walking the Lonesome Valley

Tree in a Lonesome Valley“You’ve got to walk that lonesome valley by yourself,” I found myself singing as I walked alone in the snow the other day. Here’s a snippet.

And I was walking along, feeling so alive and so delighted be reminded of how important solitude is to my creative process. When I was a lonelier person (a fat, smart, Jewish girl in a small town high school…you do the math) my solitude came “naturally” and my art (mostly some very bad poetry and a few equally bad songs) was by my side when I felt like no one else was. Being able to spill my guts in words and in music was a vital refuge for my lonely girl soul, and that lonesome valley was, I have no doubt, an important training ground for the songwriter I became.

“Yes,” I thought to myself crunching through the snow, “I’ve got to walk this lonesome valley by myself.” And then I thought, “I can’t wait to share this insight about solitude in a Scoutie Girl post!” And then I laughed at myself.

And that movement from aloneness to sharing sums up what so much of the creative life is about for me. We want to connect, we want to share, we want our art (whatever form it takes) to reach all the way to the heart of the other.

And yet, in order to make the art that I can then offer up, I have to be willing to walk the lonesome valley by myself.

As Woody Guthrie’s version of the song goes:

Mamma and daddy loves you dearly,
Sister does and brother, too,
They may beg you to go with them,
But they cannot go for you.

I am grateful that solitude is now something I have to seek out when I want it. And I have also, more and more, been enjoying the work of songwriting itself as a community process.

But at their core, my songs are born in solitude; I lose my sense of connection with Source very quickly when I don’t make the time to simply be alone.

So whatever lonesome valley you walk — by choice or under duress — may it become a source of wonderful treasures that you can bring back and share with the rest of us.

Bonus: Here’s a version of Pete Seeger “lining out the hymn” as he likes to call it (teaching a song as he sings it, just like he taught me and lots of others how to do).

Checking Fear at the Door

Fear is the highest fence.

Fear is the highest fence by mrsdkrebs.

I have a frenemy in my life. His name is Fear.

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m always talking about conquering fear, so it’s strange for me to call fear a frenemy, implying that, to some extent, fear is a friend.

Now don’t get me wrong, fear sucks — but I need a healthy amount of fear in my life. Fear is that voice that keeps me in check to some extent.

Fear is the voice that lets me know that I’m doing something challenging.

You can’t be too comfortable in your creative and business pursuits. A little fear lets you know that you’re doing something different. You’re adventuring into new territory. 

The dark side of this is that if you don’t keep fear in check, it can rule you.

Do you ever do any of the following:

  • Not take a risk or try something new because of what could happen.
  • Not follow through on your big idea because you feel like you can’t do it.
  • Diagnose yourself, life, business with the worst case scenario outcome without evidence.

In these cases, fear is ruling you, you are not ruling fear.

Here’s how I keep fear in check in my life: I act.

The more I dwell in my head, the more likely I am to let fear beat me up. So I must take action.

I have the following quote on my office door:

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage.  If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Get out and get busy.”
– Dale Carnegie.

How do you give life your all while keeping fear in check? Is there a place for fear in your life?

Get Out of Your Head and Into the Moment

Sunday Soup & Biscuits

Baking and cooking are great ways to give your brain a rest and enjoy the present.

I’m an ideas person. I live in a world of options, movement, and possibility, with thoughts churning merrily most of my waking hours. I love it.

On the flip side, with so many thoughts flitting about, it’s easy for me to get comfortable in this cerebral space and remain “stuck in my head.” I get so excited and caught up in my projects that it’s sometimes hard for me to switch modes and experience the physical, present moment in front of me.

Sound familiar?

Sometimes our brain needs a rest, and our body and senses need to take center stage.

If you’re feeling uninspired or overwhelmed, or just a need to connect with the here & now, it may be time to make the switch.

These five simple activities have helped me get out of my head and connect to the present, physical world. They may be useful to you, too.

Move Your Body
Take a walk, stretch, or break out the tunes and dance. Hit the gym, take a yoga class, or dig up your garden. Find something that’s convenient, and works well for you.

Putter
I am a big fan of puttering. Tidy up the living room, put the clothes away, do the dishes. Go through the pile of papers on the table, file the obvious, sweep the floor. Meander in your physical space and see what small task calls you.

Make Something
Paint, cook, slice & dice. Sew, hammer, bake, sink your hands in the dirt. Draw, knit, or pull out the sander. Use your hands to work with textures, colors, and scents.

Touch Someone, or Another Living Being
Hold a loved one’s hand, pet the dog, feel the bark of a tree or the leaves of your favorite plant. Get a hug or, better yet, give a hug. Focus on your sense of touch and delight in the exchange of life energy.

Sit With Your Surroundings
Sit comfortably and straight, close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Feel the surface beneath you: the floor beneath your feet, the chair on which you’re sitting. Feel the sensations on your skin, hear the sounds — near and far — and inhale and take in the scents. Become aware of your surroundings. Stay this way as long as you’d like; when you feel ready, wiggle your toes & fingers, and slowly open your eyes.

How do you make the switch from the cerebral world to the physical?

How do you get “out of your head” and into the present moment?

Why You Shouldn’t Marry the Man of Your Dreams

image by mudcard  - click for more info

The scene: my wedding reception.

Toasts have just been completed by my dad, the maid of honor, the best man, and freshly minted husband. I unexpectedly grab the mic.

“Zach was scheduled to give the final toast tonight, but his days of having the last word are over.”

The crowd goes wild. The laughter dies down. People shift in their seats and drink from their Mason jars.

“After we got engaged, Zach playfully asked me if he was the man of my dreams. I thought for a second and said, ‘Nope. I never could have thought you up.’ Zach, you are unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and unlike anyone I could have predicted for myself. So, no, you are not the man of my dreams. But you are the man that I love.”

Why am I sharing this story, and why did the table of bridesmaids produce enough tears to fill a punch bowl?

Because there is extraordinary power in being open to the unexpected.

It requires vulnerability. It means experiencing rather than controlling.

Can you stay open to the unexpected?

Because sometimes your imagination just can’t do justice to what’s in store for you.

In the comments, I’d love to hear if you’ve been pleasantly surprised by something you couldn’t predict.

Gathering light,

 

Take Time to Remember

Sunny Side Up c. 1998 by Megan E. Evans / Butcher Paper, Newsprint, and Pastels

I’m in the process of moving. Yep, I’m packing up my life and putting it all in boxes. Dates and details are still up in the air as to where my husband and I will move, but we keep charging ahead with the preparation.

One unique and interesting gift about packing up, sorting through, reorganizing, and throwing out is that I keep running across memories.

Trinkets, papers, pictures — many old and recent memories. At first I thought it was just going to be overwhelming (and to be honest, it is at times). But it has also opened up a new aspect in my creative life that I haven’t addressed in a while: it has helped me remember.

I do not often take time to filter through memories of where I’ve been before. For example, I came across some drawings and collages I did in college when I was in architecture school (which I transitioned out of). I had forgotten about some of those projects, and I haven’t looked at them in over twelve years. It’s interesting to see how far I’ve come since then in my design and creation, but I could still see my design “aesthetic” peeking through, the beginnings of my creative self, and glimpses of who I am today. And remembering is helping me through my current transitions, giving me hope of what is ahead.

When was the last time you did this? Have you taken the time to “look back” recently? Does it give you energy to realize where you’ve been?

If you haven’t tried reflecting and remembering lately, I encourage the experience!

Take time to remember where you’ve come from; it could greatly inform where you are going.