Just a few bubbles
I made it to my massage appointment mentioned in this morning’s post and I confessed my lack of exercise diligence to my therapist. This was not for him, it was for me. I need to practice not meeting expectations publicly. I need to practice allowing myself to be seen in less than perfect states. There is so much masking to undo. I like this particular therapist a lot because he is authentic and it allows me to be so as well. The work he does is highly tailored to my body and needs each visit, and we’re on a mission to undo years of chronic pain and poor alignment in conjunction with a physical therapist at the same office. They are the first two male practitioners of any kind to actually listen to me without blaming me. Neither of them are white and that makes me feel safer I think.
Afterwards, I went to the studio because it’s right around the corner. I wasn’t sure what I would do and didn’t have an agenda other than wanting the feeling of being on track, chipping away at bigger goals. I have a show in a year so I’m currently transforming lots of materials to later use in an installation. I thought I’d do something with painted and dyed lace doilies, as that is where I left off. But, this bubblewrap painting has been staring at me for months. I started it last spring I think, maybe winter. It’s been a long time since I worked on it and it’s felt like an undertaking I can’t take on lately. Maybe something from my massage shifted my capacity for load, but today I was able to tackle it for two hours by just telling myself I’d only paint a few bubbles. This is often what I need to do to initiate tasks that takes a long time or multiple steps, I tell myself I’m only going to do one little part and I let that be truly ok, without secretly expecting more of myself. And then once I start, I usually get into a zone and I’m fine working for awhile. Then it becomes, “ok, only a few more and then you have to stop,” which is hard. But if I said to myself on the ouset, you need to finish that bubblewrap painting soon, it would never happen. That would feel like an object or expectation having power over me and my autonomy. This same tendency makes goal setting, proposals, and commissions very difficult. I cannot start tasks with a specific finish in mind because finishing is not what I am interested in. Outcomes do not excite me, losing myself in the process does. Today that felt really good.