As I have been moving through the Artists Way book, the same thing happened that has happened every other time I attempted this journey: I become stalled between weeks 8 and 9. I kind of...stop doing it. Interestingly enough, at the same time, I kind of became stalled in many other areas: the purging of the clutter, the eating healthy plan, the exercise regime. So while I tried (and failed) to do the exercises in the back of the book, it occurred to me that I need to sit down and figure out exactly what is holding me back.
Here's the deal: I start things, I get going along pretty well, and then when things really start taking off, I lose interest. I abandon the goal altogether. Or I set it aside for a while only to pick it up again last minute and scramble around to finish. What's the deal?
Oh, it would be pretty easy at this point to just pull up the "goals" from February and comment on how I didn't accomplish a few things. And list my excuses. I got a lot of them. Some of them actually legitimate. Like, how I got sick this month. And how I'm exercising more and that takes more time. And I have a lot of work projects. But today I read something in a magazine. It said: People often flee from taking responsibility because its such a big task. After a point, they become afraid because they are running. And here I was, thinking that I was running toward something, not away.
So though I didn't do any of the tasks this week, I decided to face a task that I have apparently been running from. Why have I been avoiding...the dreaded storage area?
I've been moving through the apartment, cleaning and purging without problem. Cleaning and purging with great success. But I keep avoiding the storage area. I actually get a little nauseous thinking of it. And this week, when I decided I was going to DO IT, I blindly grab something on my way in: "I'll get rid of this. I'll get rid of that." No cleaning, organizing or conscious decision making.
Exactly WHAT am I so scared of down there? Fleeces? I got way more fleeces than I need. I should be able to choose which ones I don't want without a problem. Extra boxes? (for some reason, I hang on to boxes irrationally) If I got rid of every last box and suddenly needed more, I could get them at a store. Shoes? I don't have alot, but I could certainly do with less. Camping gear? Camping gear.
I haven't gone camping in the longest time. Not REAL camping, like hiking out into the middle of nowhere carrying everything on your back. I don't really have a lot of friends anymore who like to camp like that. I used to camp a lot. With M. Back when I thought that life was perfect.
But I'm totally over M. I am! This cannot be about M. It's been so long since the breakup. I am so past it! Aren't I?
There's just so much uncertainty now. Part of me is excited about uncertainty. Part of me loves it. But part of me want to hang on to the past. Part of me feels like if I let go of the past, I'll be losing a part of myself. Maybe an important part of myself. And that would be sad.
And maybe I'm hanging onto...the fleece that I wore when we spent that great Sunday in Golden Gate Park even though I don't really wear it anymore and its ripped. Or enough boxes so I could pack up and go at a moment's notice. Even though I'm not planning on going at a moment's notice.
And maybe that's why I've been sabotaging myself in so many areas.
But let's face it: hanging onto boxes or fleeces, failing to exercise or eat right, and abandoning a project isn't going to bring the past back. It's not going to make tiny little feelings for M nonexistent. It's only going to make me less likely to complete the things I wish to accomplish.
So now...I'm off to purge some fleece.