I have known several people who believe that if you send energy out into the universe asking for the life you want, it will appear. Some do this through prayer, some through manifesting some karmic link to their past, some through writing, and some just wish on stars. No one has this worked so well for than Duane, whose easel now sits in my kitchen, awaiting a permanent home upstairs in the office. With it are several dozen oil paints, a thin wooden pallette, and a 71 year old box full of brushes.
I am going to begin painting again. This time with oil, which I have never used. I am hoping it will go well, though I know I have so much to learn.
I am home now. While my daughter sleeps upstairs, I alternately read about repairing home coolant systems, and about thinning oil paint without muddying it. Money is tight, the list of projects and repairs here keeps growing, and I am spending my spare moments daydreaming about the changes I want to make in my life. A morning run, a quiet coffee, games with my little girl in the (as yet mostly unplanted) garden, a nice dinner with my family, a couple of hours at the easel or the computer, then knitting on the front porch swing with a cup of tea and fireflies. I want to make our clothes, grow our food, and create beautiful art and writing which will pay for those things when I am too old to make them myself. There is a lot which stands between where I am now and that life which I am hoping for, but each day is a step closer, and I am putting it out to the universe — a wish that I hope will manifest itself.
In the meantime, I will turn over more soil, build a fence. I will fix the coolant system, and hook up a dishwasher. I will plant flowers, and place rocks around them to keep them safe from the dog’s eager digging. I will play my dulcimer, and knit another row on my sweater. I will take heart in the plumbing repairs I did yesterday; knowing that I am capable of all of this, it is not impossible, though it may be slow.
And maybe, I will mix a few paints. I will learn to properly stretch my own canvas. I will be brave enough to share my work, and strong enough to use criticism for repairs. I will send these wishes out into the universe. I will hope for Duane’s luck. And then I will pull back my hair, and get to work.