I’m Alaina and I’m a recovering artist with a fear of my own greatness. I suffer from scalding amounts of skepticism and bitterness. I have 100 ideas and I start 5 of them and finish exactly 0 of them. This blog is a blaringly example of that. This blog is a source of both pride and shame. “At least I tried to do something,” the optimistic elf on one shoulder says. “Yeah, another great example of your flimsy dedication,” the unbearable gargoyle says on the other. I’m working on not feeling the gargoyle so much. Although there’s truth in it, it doesn’t’ need to come with all that judgement. I’m a work in progress and always will be. I know this. I’m just working on believing it.
I’m tired of hearing myself think “I could do that” and know that it’s true then become deeply ashamed of myself for not ever “doing that.” I’m tired for many reasons. But mostly, I’m tired of my external self. Do you know what I mean? I’m tired of this ego driving me to perform for things that aren’t my truth. Over the last few years, and I think the pandemic has certainly accelerated this, I’ve been feeling like I need to turn inward. But it’s scary in there. It’s scary to actually believe in yourself…that magic that’s in us all. I feel so conceited. I feel so foolish. I feel so…vulnerable.
The book I’m reading, “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron, tells me this is a pretty sure sign that I’m “blocked” — and shit, yeah that’s the truth. I’m working through the lessons and trying to incorporate the habits that will help me to become unblocked. One of those things is the daily pages — she calls them the morning pages because you’re “supposed” to do them in the morning. I don’t believe in that word “supposed” – find what’s right for you and do it. I think the book says that, too. Anyway, I call them the daily pages because depending on the day, I do them at all different times. There’s a bunch of things that go into those daily pages, like getting all the yuck out, the inner critic, the problems that keep circulating in your brain that distract you from being here, now. Then you end with affirmations that feel right for you. It’s all about becoming more mindful, really.
The other thing that is prescribed is a weekly Artist Date — two hours of uninterrupted time dedicated to the artist in you. I was thrilled to see this — but I have not been able to do it really. I have a few projects that my soul is literally begging me to work on and I just can’t seem to do it. I tried to do it last night and I let bills, budgeting, and worries completely distract me from the story outline. It’s still sitting on the screen next to me… just staring at me. So, I thought I’d come back to this project and just write…something.
I am Alaina and I’m a recovering artist. I’m a writer. Gosh, my belly lights up when I write that. I am a writer. That feels like home. Here I am, working to unbury this home of mine. To let that light in my belly shine. To reconnect with my inner self and to share that with you — so we can maybe connect, too.
I am Alaina and I’m a recovering writer. I have a technology and procrastination problem. I have a fear of my own greatness. I struggle with self-doubt and an inner critic who is cruel. I am here to declare that I am working to honor and release the bubble of light, the divine creative creature in me.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading these raw words, friend. Will write again soon.
Wishing you calm,