An Accident of Hope

I wrote a post earlier, and then thought I would erase it. I'm new to this blog thing, and I feel like my entries have been so complainy and depression oriented. I started to feel bad about that. Then I read this from the ruling Ali Edwards:

"We have stories to tell, stories that provide wisdom about the journey of life. What more have we to give one another than our 'truth' about our human adventure as honestly and as openly as we know how." (Rabbi Saul Rubin)

and this is the reason I am sharing. I have spent the duration of my life trying to be *ON*, and well, that just ain't reality. Sometimes I am inspired, happy, ready to take over the world. Sometimes, more privately, I feel like I am hopeless disaster. I am thinking maybe by not hiding it so much, this 'unattractive'part of me will join the table, and be part of the whole picture.

I love to be inspired like the best of them, but I also sometimes crave the messy stories, the stories of creative nose dives that people take. Sometimes when I read blog entries from artists loving their imperfections, I want to know: what ARE those imperfections? Do any of these people ever feel financially freaked out? Or have crippling doubt? Do they feel anger or jealousy? Do they ever feel misunderstood or alone? I think there is wonder there too. As one of my favorite poets once wrote: "the worst of anyone/can be, finally,/an accident of hope."

And let's face it--I am a moody artist type. I always seek out the hope, but often I stumble over the reasons for doubt. I don't think I am alone.

So, I pull out the list and remember, bit by bit: Say thank you, nourish yourself, remember where you are right now. I remember that the times I am most descouraged or sad or depressed, often something deep inside is working itself out. It isn't ready to let me in on it--but perhaps it will.

Or what if it doesn't? I pull out the list and remember bit by bit...