This 2:30am wake up routine is familiar. Sometimes, all it takes is to toss and turn, get a glass of water, maybe watch a video and then drift back off. Other times, like tonight, it’s different. While sleep abounds for others, I’m sitting at my dining room table setting up a new collage.

As I sift through images and colors, I whisper a Rumi passage to myself: 

“The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell. Don’t go back to sleep! You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep! 

I love early morning stirrings that arise when distractions are few. Over time, I’ve learned to listen to that still small voice as she tries to get my attention. Like now…she’s beckoning to me.

What do I really want? Where am I headed? 

Destination: Unknown

Internal Tracking System: On

Art journaling is part of that tracking system. It has become one of the most unexpected and soulful midlife discoveries that I’ve had. 

In truth, this artistic process has fostered an unlearning of sorts, from being compelled to know what I will create, right from the beginning, to accepting that I won’t know until I’m done. Having spent years at the helm of project plans where critical paths were laid out and contingency plans developed, going in “blind” to what I will create, only seeing and understanding the piece once it’s done, has been illuminating and uncomfortable all at same time. It challenges me to be patient and try not to force an outcome. SO VERY HARD!  Ironically, both the process and the final piece end up being teachers.

I’ve come to realize that there is NO one right way to create a roadmap. Not surprisingly, I can’t identify many places in my life where there isn’t a traditional, binary way of evaluating things, a spoken or unspoken right vs wrong way of doing things. Except here, right now…Whatever emerges tells a story. My story. When all is said and done, these are my thoughts and feelings so there is no wrong about it. It’s ALL-right. Yes, it’s alright. Old limiting messages, some external, some self-imposed, may pass through but they no longer take root. 

Having envisioned diminishing possibilities as midlife set in, there was a time when I feared that I was done, with nothing to look forward to and nowhere to go. Empty nest, career over, menopause…so many endings. 

Now, looking in the rear view mirror, I see that I was wrong. They were actually pivot points, or as William Bridges calls them: Transitions.

Thankfully, a renewed sense of excitement is  bubbling up, even if I don’t yet know where I’m headed.

I’ll end on this note: my art emerged as a North Star during my time at MEA. It was the FIRST time that I had spoken about it out loud, shining a light on the importance that I didn’t know it held for me. Art stepped out from the shadows. So, I promised myself that I’d carry this artistic torch forward, be intentional and take small steps towards these as-of-yet unidentified opportunities, letting art be my guide.