TODAY'S EMBRACE

Vol.13

Hello Beautiful friend,

I am writing this whilst I sit proudly on my new sofa while my three-year-old daughter, Una, retreats under the dining table for her nightly tantrum to avoid going to bed. This is her current way of protesting going to bed, and she will remain there until she eventually (about an hour or so) calms herself down and asks to go to bed. She will not let me comfort her or let my husband and I retrieve her - it only makes it worse. So I am seizing the moment to write to you whilst feeling proud and equally exhausted.

I am pleased with myself that I finally purchased a new sofa. I am not sure why succumbing to doing so took me so long. Why, for the last year, have I put up with a sagging sofa and its shredding linen cover? Why on Earth would I convince myself that purchasing a new one would be insanity when I did not plan to stay in this house for much longer? I told myself that it would be a waste of money and that money should be spent on things that add value to the house to increase its value and mean a better profit when we sell. I told myself that if I were to buy items that did not fit in a removal box, I would be burdening myself.

In reflection, I think a little deeper, peeling back the layers and realise it was not just a new sofa and a new rug that I was denying myself of but also living, enjoying the time I have here. I had been placing all my happiness, joy and adventure on tomorrow and avoiding today. Sure, I am present in my daily practices and how I live my life, but I mean the bigger things, friendships, comforts... I was removing myself from new things or hanging out with friends because I was so fixed on my tomorrow.

I know I am not alone in this sentiment, so why do we place our happiness and comforts in tomorrow when it is today that we live? Tomorrow does not yet exist. Today is all we have.

I did not realise how much I had put my life on pause because I am in an in-between stage of my life. I allowed myself to become a ghost, translucent to the world, because I was fixated on achieving my goal—the goal my husband and I share to be in France.

So letting go of the old sofa and buying a new one that elevated the space and fits all five of us, along with a new matching rug in some way, has slapped me in the face to live more in today. In doing so, I also realised how many books I placed in storage (books are my life, and literature is everything to me), decluttering my home to its bare essentials. I was decluttering to make our renovations smoother, and my husband and I were working ourselves to the bone, juggling kids, renovations, full-time work, and somehow managing to enjoy each other's company along the way. Unfortunately, the deadlines we created kept getting pushed out, three months here, six months there. These things are out of our control for many reasons, mainly because of the trades shortage and simply running out of time each week.

Tomorrow is not certain. Today is all I know and have. This sentiment playing over and over in my head whilst my heart opens a little more, and I remind myself of the need to enjoy this precise life each day that comes. Goals and the things we are working towards are wonderful, but the journey is what is important. Excellence comes from the process, not the final achievement.

When I feel I can not go on another day of relentless parenting, tantrums and missing deadlines with work, writing this to you three days later than it should be not to shy away, not to become translucent. What I choose today will create my tomorrow. What I choose at this moment will pave the way forward.

As Una cries under the table, not letting me go near her, I gently tell her I love her and that I am here if and when she needs me. I gently tell her that I am sorry she feels sad, going to bed sucks, I love you, and you will be ok. While I gently say these things to her, I am also whispering those sentiments to myself: I love you, you feel sad, I know, it sucks not to be where you want when you want, I love you, you will be ok.

New books, new literature and poetry I have yet to read previously replace the ones in storage. They grace me with their wisdom and beauty, viewable from my new sofa. Currently, I am devouring a beautiful book by Rick Ruben called The Creative Act. Every word sings to me and feels like a meditation practice in its own right.

Rick describes so eloquently what feels like a total recognition of who I am on a soul level, my very essence. He mentions that as Artists when we open ourselves up to create, the universe speaks through us, and the more in tune we become with this flow of creativity, the more sensitive and empathic we become to everything. He shares how this sensitivity is what drives many artists to the point of pain, not being able to cope with the empathic sensitivity to others and that which is out of their control. Personally, I have not been to that place, to the realm of the hungry ghost, as Gabor Mate describes it. To the realm of addiction and self-harm of feeling like one must escape. I may not have been in that place myself, but I know it very well. I have been a victim of it for most of my life. Seeing my mother in manic states, telling me she had nothing to live for, the dramatics of her mind placed me as her therapist, her caretaker and her parent long before I could even write.

Being around this 'Real of the Hungry Ghost' translucence of living shaped my brain to learn ways to dream and create alternate realities. It opened my mind to creation and how I could manipulate things from thought to thing. In some twisted and dark way, it birthed the artist within me. It would have come out regardless, but I deeply connected with that archetype early on.

Now my life is so far removed from that translucent state of living there is so much that comes through that wants to be shared with the world I cannot keep up with it. I do not physically have the time and space to allow it. It's like a can of worms that wants to explode so vast you could sit it from space. I have so much to share as I integrate through its flow. The time and space needs to be created, and the juggle between motherhood and being an artist has to come in equal measures at the right time. I must look at what I have now, what I have already created and build upon them one by one, brick by brick and hope that you will stick around for the journey.

Art is creativity, and creativity is spiritual. They are parts of the same thread, twisted and intertwined, so when we stop living and withdraw from our current life or situation, we ultimately pause our creativity and manifestations. Withholding my comforts and joy of today inhibits the comforts and joy I seek for tomorrow.

So today, although time has been slipping through my fingers and this musing is late, and I still write this to the backing track of Una's sobbing, I will not give up hope. I will whisper to myself that all is ok, I love you, yes it sucks not to be there yet, you are not letting anyone down, all will be ok, I love you.

I will tell myself that I choose today over the dreams of tomorrow. I will tell myself that I am a living work of Art. Creation speaks through me, and what I choose in this moment helps to shape what comes next.

Think of the universe as an eternal creative unfolding. Trees blossom. Cells replicate. Rivers forge new tributaries. The world pulses with productive energy and everything that exists on this planet is driven by that energy. Every manifestation of this unfolding is doing its own work on behalf of the universe, each in its own way, true to its own creative impulse. - Rick Rubin

Hang in there, beautiful one. We are like minds, seeking and craving connection to learn through the web of existence and create something tangible with the translucent states of being we have found ourselves in, time and time again. You matter, your journey matters, and alchemy is at play with every breath you take.

In love,

Brooke x