let's try this again...

i posted yesterday, maybe you saw it - maybe you didn't.  i've heard from a good many of you privately, asking where the post went.  the answer?  i vaporized the thing.  after spending all that time writing and loading photos and looking up wikipedia definitions for a particular color, i obliterated it.  don't ask me why, because today i'm not exactly sure, except to say i felt that most of you were probably as sick of blue as i am and wanted to move on to something else.  i don't like depression, particularly when it stems not from what is stirring inside of me but as a direct result of what is stirring outside, around.  one thing that i've learned at the ripe age of 51 is that i don't want to spend my days in such a fit of worry about what someone else might think or how they might respond to honest feelings i might have; i don't want drama, i don't want conflict, and i most assuredly don't want unhappiness or displeasure that sprouts from trying to do what is best, but not what is best for myself.  enough.  enough!  i am fairly sure at this middle age of who and what i am, of the decisions i make, of opinions i have.  and have them, i do.  and express them, i will.  i've learned not to discuss politics on this site or with my folks, i've learned when to stand back and let a crisis mend itself, when to hold on and when to let go.  sometimes i don't do it early enough and the unfortunate fall out is dire.  i'm learning now that sometimes, no matter how hard i try to make things right, to clear the air, it isn't enough, and that i need to stop shaking the dust into the air.  i need to let it settle, and i'm learning this only now.  i've learned to gauge myself when a conflict arises; i've learned to process my emotions, to know them, to embrace them, and i've grown to assess more often than not when i am wrong and when i am right.  sometimes there is no right or wrong - sometimes there is simply a difference of opinion. 

i like being this age;  i would not go back for anything.  with age comes grace, comes wisdom, comes clarity that wasn't there for me when i was a younger adult.  with wrinkles and age spots and gravity come new peace and calm, and a sense of being in the place i'm supposed to be.  i don't live my days pining for something that isn't in the here and now, and i've learned to stop dead in my tracks and look up or down, but never back.  and never ahead.  not while standing there, anyway.  there are many things to acknowledge, to appreciate, to see, that had i not slowed down in my steps and looked closely with a keen, inquiring eye, would have gone entirely unnoticed.  sometimes what i see, in all simplicity, is merely the way a shadow happens to fall across my view.  the other day, for another simple instance, while walking out back with aspen i spotted two slender strands of crumpled metal christmas tree tinsel, hidden under the brown dried leaves of winter.  they made me smile, and brought pleasant memories - but no pining (do pardon the unintentional pun).  things like this greatly matter to me, and to express the fact that they matter is paramount.

i express myself to a fault.  because i am so open, i've sometimes regretted in later hours the vulnerability that comes with laying things out in front of me so vividly.  readers like you seem to appreciate the candor, and this is a good thing, because good lord i cannot stop myself from being so damned transparent and exposed.  but i'm not going to change, because i can't.  nor do i want to, for that matter.

my sweet friend gina sent me this lovely poem this morning, as she knew i'd drink in the comfort that it brought.  she's been going through a rough stretch herself, and understands the feelings of deflation, of distress.  thank you, gina; you are a dear thing.  hang in there.  springtime is surely on the way. xo

For Loneliness

When the light lessens,
Causing colors to lose their courage,
And your eyes fix on the empty distance
That can open on either side
Of the sunset line
To make all that is
Familiar and near
Seem suddenly foreign,

When the music of talk
Breaks apart the noise
and you hear your heart louden
while the voices around you
slow down to leaden echoes
turning the silence
into something stony and cold,

When the old ghosts come back
to feed on everywhere you felt sure,
do not strengthen their hunger
by choosing to fear;
Rather, decide to call on your heart
that it may grow clear and free
to welcome home your emptiness
that it may cleanse you
like the clearest air
you could ever breathe.

Allow all your loneliness time
to dissolve the shell of dross
that had closed around you;
choose in this severe silence
to hear the one true voice
your rushed life fears;
cradle yourself like a child
learning to trust what emerges,
so that gradually
you may come to know
that deep in that black hole
you will find that blue flower
that holds the mystical light
which will illuminate in you
the glimmer of springtime.

John O'Donohue

********

dear readers:  i am so grateful to all of you, for taking the time to write.  and simply for being there.  i wanted to let you know that i'm away from a computer until tuesday, as i am out at my folks' cabin visiting with them and drinking in their presence and love.  aspen is with me too.  i came into town to read a couple of emails and now have to dash.  but - thank you.  thank you, all of you.  thank you one hundred x a sunny day.  xoxo

Comments

[patricia]

YES! YES! YES!
and the poem speaks volumes to me also...Thank you for always being TRUE to yourself and your spirit. It is an inspiration to all who visit here.
Artfully Yours
Pattie

[Chris]

All I can say is WOW what a poignant poem! Thought provoking post. Thank you for your words. No matter what your mood may be, somebody out there shares it....and that's why we keep coming back! Love you!

[Jean Zoss]

Nina - you are an amazing woman and artist. I've enjoyed your blog without comment until now. I saw an installment of American Experience with Joni Mitchell where they talked about her and her incredible talent and all the struggles she encountered on her journey and she simply said "Without the demons there would be no angels" As I'm writing this a pair of cardinals are flitting in the tree outside...spring

[Cindy In Carolina]

AAAhhhhhh yes.......gravity.

[Adrienne]

I saw yesterday's post and I saw it gone today. I thought hhmmm, maybe she just didn't want it out there. Why can't we all just be who we want to be, and accept eachother for who we are? Why must we explain ourselves away on these blogs. I let someone do that to me. I put myself out there and someone got offended and a war ensued. So I started a new blog and barely told anybody about it so I could just be me. But I've always got that little voice back in my head saying don't write that, don't be that open, don't offend. My hats off to you, be you!!!!

[Isabel]

Nina,this post makes me like you even more.
You are luminous in all your transparency. And I am always learning with you about "being" now and not later,you precious soul.

[Brian]

Too often I'm prone to follow the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald: "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." Still, I'm getting better with age, learning to lament the past a little less and concentrate on the present a little more. Spring will make it easier for us. (I'm glad you're enjoying Kathleen Norris. Makes me want to sit in the middle of the Dakota prairie and just look and listen.)

[Penny]

I loved this post. I know so many women 'of a certain age' who are finally accepting themselves as they are, accepting life as it is and loving every minute they are given. My moment yesterday was the faint sound of some dried leaves left over on a tree, moving against each other during a slight breeze. To stand there and listen with all my heart in the quiet was reward enough for the day.

[Emily]

All I can say about this post is "AMEN, GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!"

[herhimnbryn]

And so it is.
And so it will be.
And so you must be.
And so you most dearly ARE.

[Suzanne - The Farmer's Wife]

I missed yesterday's post but every word here....well said.

Mostly I just tell people who have a problem with who I am to put on their big girl panties and deal with it.

- Suzanne, the Farmer's Wife

[Lisa]

Lucky me for I did see your post yesterday. I thought your post was thought provoking...and I wasn't tired of the blue. Your honesty and true feelings woven in your words are what make your blog so wonderful...so real. The good...the bad and believe me I have never read anything here that was bad. See you at ArtFest.

[terri]

What a thought provoking post. It speaks volumes to us all, which is why I love reading your blog. Your an amazingly talented women.

[Liz]

I send you many things from my heart, from far across this continent, not the least of which is a wee wry smile, an outstretched hand, oh and a fistful of fresh cut iris (just starting to bloom here). so many of your words, well, they just Are, so many of your words just are, for me. Oh, and I wasn't tired of the blue, and was sad for just a brief moment when I discovered that all the lovely blue symbols were, poof, gone, but there are always more, blues and symbols that is...

[posypusher]

honey-you could not pay me to be twenty. for all the reasons you list above. i love the personal growth and wisdom that comes from being in the "middle ages". the greatest gift is to know oneself and to be true to it. i used to give up my opinions to please others(usually men). no longer. if being honest means being alone-then so be it. i will not live a lie. i cherish my time alone and cannot imagine having anyone in my life just to banish loneliness.

[Cindy Ericsson]

It is a wonderful thing to know oneself! Thanks for sharing these thoughts (and the ones from yesterday) here for me to ponder.

[gina armfield]

Thank god you can express being blue. What would we do if we just kept it all inside - go crazy that's what! I feel so much freedom in expressing ALL of my feelings on my blog - it makes me feel better - helps me heal - reading about your blue periods makes me feel like I am not the only one - it gives me hope. I want to connect with what is real and all that means - I love you blue, red, pink, and green.

[hol]

Babe, so glad you're back,..( Blue, Shmoo, POO, Thank-You teacher! :-) ) This post reminds me of a Quote Jeanine Payer uses in her work on her piece 'Dale',
"Out beyond ideas, of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there."-Rumi
I am also reminded of a reference used so many times in speaking of my Mother, and now myself, I'm afraid,.. ..'What she lacked in tact, she made up for in frankness'. We have learned 'to be true to ourselves' in these 50 years, and that is good... LYLT, Hol

[Jan]

That was a lovely post. Thank you. The poem was a welcome gift, Nina. Soon I will be going back to my parents home to help them prepare to move. I also need/want to spend time with my dear old Dad, so I can say goodbye. He's dying of cancer and I hope that living in the "now", as you do, will allow me to appreciate being in their midst just a little while longer - together. (He's 84 and Mum's 88). Keep on doing what you do, you do it so well. You have the bravest of hearts to share yourself so openly. I admire you for that, and draw strength from your words.

[Michelle Leray]

Nina,
I have to say that I get all tingly with excitement when I see that there is a new post from you on my Reader. I am a frightfully shy woman, so it always amazes me when I see someone who is so open and honest about themselves with people; many of whom are complete strangers. Please don't ever think that your willingness to let people REALLY see you as anything but a positive and admirable character trait. Those qualities are something that I have struggled with my entire life, and as I keep moving forward wth this life I hope to become more like you, and just let it all out there without the fear of judgement and the "notgoodenoughitis" that is always lurking in the back of my mind.

[Joei]

Nina
I read the Blue post and loved it. I am doing research for a show my guild is doing called The Blues. I'm just sorry your post is not in your archives as I found it insightful for my research. Guess I now have to look some of your references up =-)
The poem is lovely. Hope you have some yellow spring sunshine this weekend. There are ever so tiny green shoots poking up in my yard and I will think of you as I stop to examine each one.
Joei
Rhode Island

[T2]

Hi. Just thought I'd say hi.

[Suzanne - The Farmer's Wife]

I wanted to return and leave an additional comment because the first one seemed a little flippant.

You should be assured how important it is to be transparent when you're feeling the need, and how important it is for others to read and identify with your mood. Depression and "blue" gain strength in the dark, when kept hidden and unacknowledged. When we bring it out and turn it over in our hands and discuss it with others it seems to lose a bit of it's power. And in talking (especially internally) come to a better understanding.

I speak out about depression whenever and whereve I can, simply because I want others to recognize the signs and seek a road out. Why? Because I didn't. Because I denied the blue, pushed the blue back until it gained a power I never knew could exist. If you deal with each piece of it you won't be forced to deal with the tsunami of blue, which in my case involved 5 yrs. of therapy.

Some people will take issue with transparency, sharing and openess. I perfectly understand their sense of privacy but the truth is that openess and honestly is always the best path.

What I see in your writing can be summed up in one word - authentic. It's a quality that people are willing to walk through broken glass to obtain. Treasure it.

The fact that you obliterate the post has lead to a very interesting exchange of ideas. So in the end, it was a good thing.

- Suzanne, the Farmer's Wife

[Stephanie T.]

thank you
i'm on the same path lately too...
it never fails that you find just the right words when i need them

i wish i had more words for YOU...just know that you are not alone

[Paula]

Nina, I can't start my day without reading your posts...and I did get to see yesterday's. You always make me feel ok about being me. Your fans all love you no matter what color you're feeling.

[Julie H]

(((Nina))), my experience is that to give you must first open the door to your heart, and in doing so, so often it is trampled. I appreciate when you share because it helps me realise what I go through is life, I am not 'the only one' or 'the most picked on'. Thank you.

[Robyn]

I know that feeling so well. A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach followed by a few flickflacks, worrying that I have exposed too much of myself whether its in a blog or just a comment. I am so grateful for your openess. I think we who return to your blog day after day, can relate to everything you write. Have a great weekend with your folks and "see" you when you get back.

[K]

Nina, I read this while at work yesterday and had to get up from my computer and go sit in the bathroom for a bit. Must have needed a good cry.

I started a photo project at my blog:

http://herablehands.com/2008/03/13/the-able-hands-photo-project/

with a flickr pool:

http://www.flickr.com/groups/ablehands/

and wonder if you would be willing to contribute a photo or more? I just linked to this post on the page I set up for the project and am building a gallery of photos for that page from the flickr pool or from emailed images

http://herablehands.com/able-hands-photo-project/

anyway, thank you a thousand times for this and so many of your posts. You remind me to have courage, to breathe, to be still, to dive in. thank you, thank you.

[Kelly]

sorry, that's Kelly. Not sure why it cut off the rest of my name. : )

[Ann]

Missed the post that seems to have been ephemeral, like early spring flowers... I have personally been experiencing a winter of discontent, and am longing for spring, but with some trepidation - the world seems to also be going through a very difficult transition right now and I'm trying not to be afraid. I agree that our 50's bring many benefits, but as I just turned 59, I see that there are always more layers of the onion to peel; we never are "done." And I become more aware of our need to connect with each other the older I get. And sometimes it's very scarey and very hard.....

[Mchele]

I, too, love the age I am (58) and wouldn't go back for anything. I try not to look back, I try to focus on the now and the good and the little things I tend to miss (like the forest for the trees....). Loved your comments and felt a real connection reading your words today. Thanks for giving me something to reflect on while I'm in airport transit purgatory.

[Michele]

I, too, love the age I am (58) and wouldn't go back for anything. I try not to look back---I try to focus on the now and the good and the little things I tend to miss (like the forest for the trees....). Loved your comments and felt a real connection reading your words today. Thanks for giving me something to reflect on while I'm in airport transit purgatory.

[alex s]

You are a diamond my dear. And the fact that you are so upfront makes it easier to mine your rare beauty. I thank you for sharing your self with all who come across your path. It is a lovely gift to "know" you.

Cannot WAIT to see your face in PT. Just the thought of which makes me smile!

[rachelle]

As comment no. 34, I just want to say I love your words, all of them, even the ones you want to take back, because you give others permission to be normal too. And tough titty to those who don't get you. What, there must be about five of them in all (I'm guessing here), and when you think that there are around 6 billion people in the world, then I think your average is pretty good, don't ya think! I love ya girl, love it all. From the Maori warrior girl in Aotearoa.

[Pamela Overmier]

I once heard Cheryl Wheeler, the folk singer, tell a story about how her depression led her to seek help of a psychiatrist. She ended up taking Prozac and writing songs about it. One of the songs was hilarious, "is it Prozac or is it peace?" She said it turned out to be peace. And she said, "The new puppy likes ME best!" Today we are adopting dog #3. I think dogs are the best medicine! Hugs to you. AND Peace! Pam

[Jan D]

Nina..it's rare that I send emails to a total stranger (I just know you from Somerset magazines thru the years)but I simply HAD to. When I picked up Somerset LIFE and read the wonderful article about you, there was this "pull" to get onto your typepad and get to know you. I'm glad I did. I'm 58, live in a very small community in Colorado, and in the last year (with the complete support from my exceptional hubby) I have altered, collaged, and painted things that I never thought I could. What is it about this time of life? As a pretty structured woman, to be able to feel "free" to create is a wonder to me for sure. I have always stopped to admire the beauty around me (I live in a glorious state), but lately there seems to be new depth to my sight. You are yet another inspiration to me and I have put you in my "favorites" so I can call upon you when I need a little tweak of creativity. I have SO much to learn....bring it on!
Jan D

[distressingdelilah]

I think it is such a comfortable place to be..to know yourself and be ok with it..and ok the be by yourself and enjoy every minute of it.

[Vickie]

Have been away from computers for almost 5 days and just now catching up. Thank God for women like you, whom so many of us can relate to regarding life issues, relationships, thoughts, dreams, our identities, where we are now in life and how we are accepting it, etc. I love you for who you are and for being out there for us and being willing to be so transparent. It means A LOT! Thank you.

[Cre8Tiva]

hope you have a great time away...i have missed so much recently...hope you are well....hugs and happy st. paddy's day...rebecca

[Carole]

Thank you for this post. Thank you for that poem (which I will share with others).

I fall into 'the depths of despair' (as Anne of Green Gables called it) more than I'd like to. And though I admit that when I get into that place my art suffers, my life suffers, and I suffer, sometimes we just need to let it be and get through it naturally. Let the feelings wash over us instead of trying to hurry it along.

I know you'll find your way, as most of do in time, and things will start to fall into place again. It may be an hour or two, a day or two, or even a week, but it will come.

Though I don't always comment I do enjoy reading about your day to day activities, your artful life, and I do love seeing your photographs. Though we've never met or spoken, I feel as if we're kindred spirits in a way, as we seem to have so much in common.

Enjoy your time at the cabin. I hope that you come back refreshed and rejuvenated.