Faith

Permission For Grace

Permission For Grace

Both feet have to leave the ground to leap.
Shit!

….and therein lies the rub.

We seldom feel like we’re ready….it just isn’t the right time…not yet.

What the hell are we waiting for?
An illness?
Divorce?
The empty nest?
More diplomas?
Losing a job?
More zeros in our bank account (Ahhh, now I’m getting warmer) but how many are enough?

How about PERMISSION?
Word from God-on-high that all systems are go, and you’re ready for launch.
That’s what I want.
That’s what we all want.

But you know what you guys? We’ve got that. We have our internal guidance, our intuition, our gut, to let us know when we’re getting close.

We’ve all been there. You get that restless feeling.

You start asking life WAY too many questions.

You feel as if you can’t do that thing you’ve been doing for one-more-minute.

That to me, signals one foot off the ground.

Then I have to suck up every ounce of courage to trust those signals, and
Lift. The. Other. Foot.

Permission is Grace’s secret weapon.

If you give enough value to the signs, the synchronicity, that jumpy little feeling in your belly, and you turn away from the fear and doubt and really show up for yourself; you grant Permission.
Permission’s bodyguards, Faith and Courage, then clear the path for Grace to enter.

Then you know what Grace does?
She lends you her hand and helps you balance…
so you can lift your other foot to leap.

Xox

I’m Confidently Doubtful

I'm Confidently Doubtful

Once upon a time, when I had my store, a lot of people referred to it as a gallery, and I suppose it was, in the looseiest, gooseiest sense of the word.

I thought it would be a cool idea to feature up and coming local artists, and display them alongside all of the vintage doodads.

In the beginning, every three or four months, I would send out postcards, and invite friends and clients to an art “opening” with decent wine, toothpick skewered cheese and super-groovy music (usually the artist’s playlist, so, yeah, way groovier than my snoozy Spotify mix.)

One particularly talented artist whose style was very similar to Jean Michel Basquiat came close to selling out his entire show one opening night, he had become that popular! I took a chance, because I saw something special in his work, and lo and behold, so did a shit-ton of other people!

Damn! What a thrill!

Still, when I had my meet and greet with the artists, prior to scheduling a show, each and every one had NO idea what to charge for their work. They had even less of a clue as to what their costs had been in time and materials. They stared at me like I was explaining Quantum String Theory when I inquired about their time expenditure.

“How much time did this piece take?” I’d ask. “And what is your time worth?”
They had no freakin’ idea!
They kept no receipts for framing, or paint, or clay, or brushes, and for them, time just disappeared as they worked…so that was that.

Really? Well! I soon determined that was the sign of a good artist—but a lousy business person.

Seems you can’t have both in the same body, except for Damien Hirst.
He is an example of someone with both mad business and marketing skills along with talent, and that has driven his prices well into the six figures.

Everyone else has a more right-brain mentality. “Don’t bother me with the real world. I just want to create, I don’t want to keep a spreadsheet.”

If you become too practical, you’ll cut off your connection to the Muse.

Now, I totally get it!

It seems it is virtually impossible to balance your checkbook and paint a masterpiece.
Maybe it’s that right-brain, left-brain thing.

It’s a lot like studying theory and technique. If you get TOO polished, all your individuality goes flying out the window. You keep the tools that work, and discard the rest.

It’s often the creations made from breaking the rules that resonate the most with people.

What I must admit I have a knack for is looking at something and determining its value. The more unique the better!

Art can be tough. It’s poorly subjective. Appreciation lies in the eye of beholder. Nevertheless, every artist I featured had been in other small galleries around town, and I always got them double or triple their previous prices. It was always hardest in the beginning and then once things sold, their “value” was established.

That’s what gallery owners do, they help establish a value.

Now that I’m no longer involved in my previous “field of expertise” I’m noticing that I have the exact same problem my oh, so talented artists did.

Determining your own value? Fuck. It’s haaaaard.

So, you can imagine my chagrin as I add my name to that long list.
Now I’m a WE.
WE don’t know how to set our value,
or WE have a number in mind, but don’t have the balls to ask for it.
WE stare blankly into space when asked what WE think our time is worth.

Damn, I used to know!! Without hesitation! I didn’t have a masters in Art History, or a Harvard business degree. I just knew what I liked, and if I liked it, I knew other people would too.

That’s it! It’s always the same! Value is set by what someone will give as an exchange for the “service” provided, and it’s based on how it makes them feel.

I’m getting warmer…
Carry on,
Xox

And I Think To Myself…

And I Think To Myself...

“I see trees of green, red roses, too,
I see them bloom, for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world.”

Louis Armstrong – What A Wonderful World Lyrics | MetroLyrics 

I woke up with these lyrics repeating themselves in my head,
over, and over, and over again, until I finally yelled (in my head)
Ok! I get it! What a wonderful world!
but…I was able to say that without a tinge of sarcasm,
because lately it has felt like a wonderful world, 
oddly enough…

Remember, I parted ways with my job on Christmas Eve, 
it SHOULD feel like a sucky world, but it doesn’t.

Believe me, it has been in the past!
3-4 years ago, if I’d woken up with those lyrics in my head I would have 
considered it a cruel joke perpetrated by the sandman,
and promptly thrown up!

In those dark days, and many others, this could have been the verse that would repeat itself upon awakening, a verse that could have defined my life:

“A presence dark invades the fair, 
and gives the horses ample scare, 
for chaos reigns and panic numbs, 
when something wicked this way comes.”
~Ray Bradbury

I was numb, the days felt chaotic, and life felt…wicked.
I know you’ve all been there.
The sky seems dark and low, and you’re not certain 
if you’ll ever see the world in color again.

Seems this time I’m not going down that rabbit hole!
Hallelujah!
The only difference is my state of mind, and my perception.

The trees of green and skies of blue weren’t hidden, 
they were imperceptible to me.
It’s like when you take off in an airplane during a rainstorm,
once you climb above the clouds…blue skies, and sunshine!
They were always there, they were just obstructed by the clouds.

The point here is this:
It’s always the same world, 
the birds are singing, the sky’s are blue,
the leaves are green and all is well.
Some days it just feels wicked,
Some days wonderful,
How does it feel today?

XoxJanet

The Power of One

The Power of One

The Power of One

It’s an ancient secret.
A miracle kept under wraps,
for if anyone truly believes it,
they can literally move mountains,
they can change their map.

It starts with an idea,
one simple grain of truth,
that if it attaches itself to you,
and walks with you day and night,
it BECOMES you.

But you cannot dispel it,
or curse it’s inconvenience,
lest it finds another host,
whose arms are open wide,
ready for the call.

They will not get YOUR power,
Not exactly, it’s not the same,
Every person has their talents,
but not everyone’s in the game.

So do not waste time worrying,
for the Power will call again,
because what’s yours is always yours, my friend,
on THAT you can depend.

What will be your power?
will you write or paint or sing?
THOSE are the powers that move mountains, my Darling,
more than the armies of Kings.

If you all knew my lovelies,
Of the powers you possess,
You’d be so busy working magic,
You’d take little time to rest.

Don’t believe it takes a village,
a whole nation starts with one,
The power of one person,
the power to become,
All that God has wished for you,
and written with your hands,
It takes faith, perseverance and fortitude,
to change where a mountain stands.

Caution: Faith Under Construction

Caution: Faith Under Construction

I don’t know if any of you have done a remodel, or any kind of
major construction to your “nest”.

I’m asking because it sucks.

It is nerve racking at best, a relationship buster at worst.
When you witness the demolition, you just can’t IMAGINE
the finished product will materialize from that giant, dusty, dirty mess!
All you can see is what’s in front of you:
A freaking debris pile that looks NOTHING close to what you want!

My husband, being a designer/ builder often talks about that certain point
in the construction phase, where everyone loses their patience and the homeowner’s head explodes!

I experienced that phase first hand during our renovation.
My head did explode.
There should be a support group for that.

After the foundation is laid, things change every day.
It’s especially exciting when the framing happens because your dream starts to take form and you can physically SEE what has only lived as lines on a blueprint.

Then….days and days and days go by, and it seems as if the project has stalled.

Where for weeks you’ve woken up to the sound of nail guns,
now…crickets..

You’re convinced everyone has run to Rio with your money, leaving you living in a popsicle stick house.

What is taking place, is the rough electrical and plumbing, but it’s hidden inside the walls!
It is the nervous system of your home, and is critical to the finished product,
But DAMNIT !! It’s INVISIBLE!

I keep coming back to this memory, this time of reconstruction, to conjure my…FAITH.
I had to maintain my faith then, and I’m doing it now.
Just like back then, there is caution tape,
and a porta potty present, as my life is currently under construction.

Problem is…I can’t see any forward movement.
All the work is happening underneath and inside, and the progress seems
imperceptible from here.

It is critical to the integrity and structure of my dream, I know!
I keep picturing the Universe hard at work behind the scenes,
Kinda like Santa.
And my faith tells me things will eventually show their face in the physical,
just like the remodel did.

And, if I was a betting girl, I’d bet my head will not explode this time.

Stay tuned
XoxJanet

Healing Hug

Healing Hug

I LOVE this quote!!

A Crisis of Faith

A Crisis of Faith

Bad things happen to good people.
Horrible, unimaginable, things.

Those experiences can either break us,
Or make us.

Often the first thing to affect us is a profound crisis of faith.
How can we operate in a world where chaos reigns,
Where prayers seemingly go unanswered,
and often, endings aren’t happily ever after.

Failure,adversity,devastation and loss
Kick our butts another rung up the ladder to the divine.
On the way up, we accumulate the experience, compassion and empathy to
Reach out our hand and pull the next person up the ladder.
I often feel like the elephant being pushed up the ladder by the Universe,
Maybe that’s just me…

I believe we CAN rebuild our foundation.
We CAN regain our faith.

It won’t be quick, and it won’t be easy.
We’ll have to dig deep, way below the surface, 
to find who we at our core.
To open the drawer, and find our big girl pants among all those “pull ups.”

Do you have strength?
The strength to conjure tenacity?
Can that tenacity fuel a vision?
and can that vision carry you forward into the grace 
of the Phoenix, reborn from the ashes?

I think you do!! I have hope that all of us have the innate ability to right our own ships. 

Adversity is the direct route to that deep reserve of strength and courage you didn’t even know existed !
Just think about that…
Contentment and happiness do not lead us there,
Playing it safe certainly will not .

Expansion of our spirit does not happen up in an ivory tower.
We have to get down and dirty,
Get into the street fight that life often feels like,
Living as if a richer, broader, more expansive life depended on it!
Because it does!

Hi, I’m Janet

Mentor. Pirate. Dropper of F-bombs.

This is where I write about my version of life. My stories. Told in my own words.

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