Making the Unofficial Official

On accepting the things we cannot change until we accept the things we need to

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Drifting in the Immensity; 10” x 10” Collage Art Painting by Crystal Marie

Sleep has always been elusive to me as an adult. The highly strung nervous system and the sensitively wired brain doesn’t do a great job of filtering the things that go bump in the night. And so I sleep ensconced between a sound machine on the left and a whirring fan on the right. Turning my room into a womb through a surround sound filtering system of white noise, which is 99.999% effective at drowning out the slamming of car doors, barking of stray dogs, and spontaneous conversations between neighbors breaking out on the sidewalk outside my window.

This morning I woke to the slow and steady chirping of the low battery indicator on the smoke detector located upstairs. Kudos to whoever designed these things at the right frequency to be just annoying enough to force us to pay attention to them.

So here I sit, hours after I wrote this post in my head, trying to remember exactly what it was I came here to say. Or, more accurately, how it was I had planned to say it. Those early morning hours when words creatively dance their way through my mind are so fleeting when life gets in the way.

It’s been doing that a lot lately. Evidence of which I can see when I look at the lapse between today and the date of the last time I posted a new book excerpt¹ for paid subscribers. Life has been getting in the way of many things that are important to me, the life that matters to me the most, anyway.

I wrote about it in October,² how hard I’d tried to keep that mask on. The one I like to call “I’m fine, everything’s fine” to convince everyone else there is no need to worry about me. I’m fine. Really. Everything’s fine.

It is the mask of the survivor. The mask of the child who grew up knowing that in fact, everything was not fine, but no one else seemed to notice. How long has it taken me to realize that it wasn’t really there just for your benefit? The mask that is.

It wasn’t about convincing you that the house wasn’t burning down from the inside, while I desperately threw buckets of water on it behind the scenes, hoping to keep from losing it all until I could find my way out of survivor mode. It was about filtering out the nagging knowing deep inside that I was trying to hang onto things that were no longer serving me.

I don’t know about you, but I get quite comfortable when everything stays the same. This wouldn’t be the first time life has had to herd me through a place I wasn’t meant to settle by steadily and increasingly frustrating my ability to cling.

Have I mentioned lately that my middle name could be fear?

*Oh, have I mentioned lately that I no longer have a legal middle name? Put a pin in that thought. That’s a story for another day.

The stuff that I teach about letting go of control and trusting the Intuitive Voice, your own dang inner knowing to lead you, does not come lightly to me. I have to live it and keep living it and suspect I will go on living it until the very end.

Like the annoying chirp of that smoke detector, the knowing voice inside of me has been growing louder, until I can no longer function without paying attention to it. There is no getting through this season by clinging to it all and trying harder. Honestly, that is a good thing, but admitting that to myself has not come easily.

A theme has been presenting itself with each of those annoying chirps. One that I’ve been plugging my ears to trying not to listen. One that is now telling me it is my word for the coming year. One that kind of sends a shiver of excitement and dread up my spine.

Restructure. ³The wheels are already in motion on that one. Behind the scenes I’ve been laying some of the groundwork, and first steps are already taking shape. But today I am here, writing these words on the page, making the unofficial official.

I have a deck of oracle cards, I used to pull quite regularly as a source for inspiration and journaling. It’s been awhile since I got the deck out, but this year on my birthday in October, as I have yearly since I got them, I did a 5 card pull called The Heroine’s Journey. It’s a good thought provoking spread for considering the year ahead.

It started off good, That first card is the thing that instigates your journey, it reminded me of the word(s) that presented themselves to me for 2022: Community, Connection, Collaboration.

The second card looked like a bit of magic, okay, maybe, hmmm.

And then I turned over the third. Insert that wide eyed nuclear explosion emoji here.

The fourth, the Nectar—the fourth card is called The Boon, the reward, wisdom, skill or blessing attained that you wouldn’t have arrived at any other way. Maybe things will be okay.

Let’s see what that fifth card is; it’s supposed to represent what to expect upon your return from the journey.

The Storm.

The Storm is similar to the Tower Card if you’re familiar with that, you know. Everything you thought you could count on is tossed upside down, shaken, stirred, swept away, removed. Everything has changed.

If you’re not a frightful little ninny like I am, you might see the promise in this card. It actually means there will be a fresh start, nothing will look the same, but the sun is back and shining, the birds are singing, the air is cleansed after that storm kind of thing.

But I wasn’t having none of that. I gave those cards the middle finger and shoved them away. Nope. Nuhuh. Nada. Stupid, silly old ritual that this is. I’m done playing this game.

A month later, after a particularly hard day of being forced to reckon with an old behavior pattern that I’d been, ahem, clinging to without acknowledging, my eyes landed on the deck of cards still sitting on the dining room table. I defiantly decided that I was going to pull one last card before I threw the whole deck away. You know, to make myself feel better. To drown out that annoying chirping sound growing louder with each day.

At this point all I could do was laugh. I’m still laughing about it.

I can’t even tell you how many more ways this word has been pestering me.

Restructure. Criminy. Fine.

I am accepting there are things I could not change without accepting the things I need to.

I’m in the midst of restructuring now. everything. about my life will indeed be changed. It is painful and exciting. It is painfully exciting. Like growing pains, I suppose.

I’m officially telling you what has been unofficially happening since writing that last book excerpt back in September. I have paused the writing of the book while I tend to the details I’ve got in motion behind the scenes. I say that like I planned it.

The last time I hit a plateau in the writing process, I put paid subscriptions on hold. I’m not going to do that this time.

If you are a paid subscriber who doesn’t have the ability or desire to wait for the dust to settle long enough for me to get back the margin I need to have to write again, I understand. I bless you and thank you for the generosity of spirit that brought you here to begin with.

If you are a paid subscriber who simply wanted to contribute as a Patreon and have the ability and desire to continue on, I bless you and thank you for your generosity of spirit as well.

To be clear, I don’t plan to stop posting on the blog in the interim.

I’ll be sharing more about it all as I take each step, but writing a book takes a particular kind of focus that I do not currently have the luxury of. The book matters to me. It is on that list of things that are a priority and one of the many reasons I know restructuring is necessary.

Also, there’s my health, my family, my hope for the future direction of my own art practice.

Today I’m putting a stake in the ground on the new territory through which I intend to tread. Let’s see what it looks like after the storm passes, shall we?

With love and gratitude to you all,

Crystal Marie

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