I'm always mesmerized by words and their meaning, in context and out, and how they seek to convey the panorama of feelings and emotions we human creatures wear like clothing, covering our souls. That intrigue is especially full when I find my soul-clothing of the emotional kind is changed out. Most of the time I don't consciously recognize the wave of change until after it's settled up on me. Other times I recognize straight away that this emotion or that has decided to rear up and have some stage time.
For the first time in a long time, disappointment has cast its encasement. Over a small physical-world logistical situation at that. Apparently it was a big-scale impacter to my heart. At least on first blush. I have decided to withdraw and encase in some silent solitude of reflection. Best thing I can do since I recognize that life isn't all about me, after all. My perception, my unconscious response in self-preservation, is somewhat distorted, I know. I am resisting the casting of judgment based on my perceptions since I cannot know intentions of others. My assumptions are rarely as astute as I think they are and hindsight always teaches me a thing or several!
I know what disappointment is, I feel it, understand its dirge-play upon my heartstrings. Thought I'd look up the definition anyhow, see if I could find some new insight beyond my body-thrum of the moment. The dictionary tells me that disappointment is "the feeling of dissatisfaction that follows the failure of expectations or hopes to manifest." More succinctly: not attaining one's anticipations.
While disappointment is something I'm sure I will continue to find wrapping me up on occasion, I have set the intent within to simply feel the swell of its embrace, shed some tears (or write some words, like right now), contemplate what's really going on in my heart and sit with that root issue for awhile - until it's found its recognition and I've rightly named it, made my peace and let it go.
Today I'm reminded: 'don't make a priority that, or who, which considers you simply an option.'
On the flipside, I also have delight crowning my world. It's a simple thing, really... a wood carving. But on so many levels it's not so simple a thing for me at all. The carving I've commissioned is of a phoenix, a symbol and myth that resonates deeply with me on many levels. It ignites catharsis time and again within me. I may be mowed down, I may be constrained for a season; I rise up and grow anew.
The artist was to have my carving done by this weekend. When I went to pick it up on Saturday morning, she wasn't nearly done and wouldn't show what she did have started - she apologised repeatedly for disappointing me. I told her 'no worries.' In fact, I was okay. She explained that she had a clear vision of what she wanted to do and did not want to rush the process... the piece was going to be bigger than we first talked about. She told me to come back on Monday, that she'd work to get it finished by then, hopefully.
The weekend came and went and I returned to her shop late Monday morning. When I got there, my piece was sitting outside the carving area, partially finished. I was beyond thrilled by what I saw! Even in its rough-hewn state, the piece is gorgeous. Almost 5' tall - soft cascading lines have been hewn by her, her chainsaw. Amazing stuff... from a chainsaw! The piece has soul. I feel me in it. She is fully enraptured by her accomplishment on the carving. In fact she actually wants to keep it, but told me "a promise is a promise. And I just want to thank you for asking me to do this - it has completely sparked my creativity!" She even has an idea for a companion piece - which I will be asking her to do , definitely. Meantime, she needs to keep the carving a little longer so that she can complete the carve, sand her rough corners off, light-burn the wood and varnish it all (three coats). I go back and collect the piece in two weeks.
And today I'm reminded: 'all good things come to those who wait.'
While she is still rough-hewn and incomplete, meet my newest delight. I have decided to name her Catharsis. I so look forward to having her return home with me...
I'll do a full post of the carving - and of its artist - once it's done and I have it home...
In situations like this I act like my cat, and go behind the sofa or up the stairs in the dark, to find a stillness that can calm.
But its great that Catharsis comes into your life now, even if she looks like she is about 200lbs.! Will you have an unveiling ceremony? a time to be born again...
Keep well!
Charlie
Posted by: Charlie Woods | 07 August 2013 at 01:24 PM