When I created this painting in 2009, Ivy Tallulah was just hatched, nursing up a storm on my front, and hanging around on my back while I launched my Etsy store and fed my creative fire with all of that juiced up mama hormone I'd experienced with Miles, but had been shy about working through then.
Change, the graceful gypsy.
I was feverishly connecting the dots between my art process and my spiritual practice, and so a sixty-piece series was born over the next three years featuring creatures departing colorful cityscapes, and headed for the wild woods- as we who practice journeywork experience each time we relax into the drums and depart consciousness for wisdom that resides deep within us.
What was so important to me was to integrate all of the separate categories and classifications of my life and roll them into my everday muchness. I'd been practicing shamanic journeys once a month in circle, painting on rare occasion, when Brandon would take Miles out for a walk, and mothering in a compartmentalized way that was unbalanced, and yet I was so wholly absorbed and in love with. I don't think I realized that I could do them all at once and not one of them would go hungry.
It was a very big three years. Today I sat looking through some old journals, tearing out pages on which I'd written letters to the babies in my belly, to put in their special tin boxes for later. I'd written all of my dreams down, and my journeys too, and I could see now, seven years beyond the first page of baby notes, how I'd been planting those seeds of integration back then. I don't know why it surprised me, how it all matched up-why is it that we wake up each day and think that what we're building and growing is something new, when in fact, it's been unfolding all of this time? I suffer a bit of Groundhog Day syndrome sometimes, I think. In actuality, life is rolling along like a bicycle wheel going forward and also coming back around to the same place over and over...
Tomorrow is a very big day. As was prophesied in the pages of my journals, I'd yearned for our family to all be home together then, working and living under one shelter. Yet with the past year being the toughest ever on my fourteen-year marriage, I believed that I'd be releasing the sacred contract on the Winter Solstice just past. I'd known for some time that a very old something needed to be let go of. But Superdad and I made an entirely different decision, on the turn of a dime. We resolved to bring him home from his day job and put our family firmly together, rather than stretching it apart. The old way is the model that most of our parents showed us, which reminds me of the post-war television show Mad Men: that Dad is away from home about fifty hours a week, missing out on being a parent for most of the babes' waking hours and too tired to nurture his own creative dreams while turning someone else's crank. This family/work/life model has never worked for us, and it's caused us much grief to be out of alignment for this long.
That crafty vixen of change has shifted directions again, making her way out of my dreams and into Ordinary Reality, as my own multi-faceted processes have integrated into one, so she has come forth to appear right here for the whole, in real time. I share this somewhat vulnerably, as there is plenty of risk at hand. Though I must say, that nothing is worth more than taking it. Deeeep breath.
Another page is turning in this story- as my partner will arrive home tomorrow evening after the last day of a twenty-two year career in industrial design, to champagne and children full of anticipation-a piece of emotional parchment that I have held close to my chest (like aces).
It seems we'll be pioneering a new model from scratch (like cream biscuits).
***
Fox is graceful change. She begins her process by opening up to new patterns she may not have considered before. Fox changes herself to bring about a desired situation, not unlike shapeshifting. She may use camouflage or invisibility to burrow under and blend in if necessary, in order to find out how she fits in. She listens carefully, creates comfort all around her, and tunes into her instincts. Her keen perception serves her well when the time comes to make a decision. Fox cozies up and protects herself before she trots off into her new adventure- expecting the unexpected, and willing to be guided.
