For this time period, I am working through Julia Cameron and Mark Bryan’s book Money Drunk, Money Sober before I work through the Prosperous Heart. The following blog entries are in response to prompts and experiences from the book. I see this as an extension of my Artist’s Way work. Some of my entries are jarring and highly personal – any program of sobriety and self-improvement demands admitting dysfunction both personally and in family, and it also calls to admit some painful truths. While not everything I work on appears here, a number of realities do. I have a genuine body of work thanks to my work on the Artist’s Way program, and I can’t ignore the changes the continual commitment has brought about. Because of that, I also can’t ignore what going further into the harder aspects of the program – like facing money issues – has the potential to improve.
- Travel – which I’m doing, thanks to a partner who is as expansive and as curious as I am.
- Write – also very much thanks to my partner.
- Attend some of these blogger conferences. AT LEAST Blog Her and Full Figured Fashion Week.
- Publish – a zine, a chapbook, the book WILL be published, of course.
- Go on a writer’s retreat. Preferably Hawaii, in the dead of winter.
- Dance more. The 5 rhythms workshop pairs well with Shamantra. It’s expensive, but I’ve gotten SO MUCH out of shamanic dance since I started in January.
- Tell off my family, in detail. I’ve only really exploded in short bursts after being pushed too far. Like most abusive people, my family framed the explosions – the “different” behavior as crazy, when the REAL crazy was tolerating their bad treatment in silence. I’ve already looked at the Experience Project and see a clear pattern of why confrontation won’t work – it’s not like they’ll ever acknowledge that their behavior is in any way bad, wrong, or hurtful, and if they KNOW it was abusive they’re even less likely to acknowledge the reality and come up with insultingly lame excuses. But a long, detailed, public letter that shines an embarrassing light on them would bring them about a quarter of the humiliation they visited on me and be satisfying to my revenge-inclined Scorpio soul. It just wouldn’t change anything – they decided a long time ago not to take responsibility for their actions, and no one cared that I had no choice about being there for all the crap. I really want to include my mother’s extended family in this, because they have been the worst about a)treating me like I’m not actually a person but that I owe it to them to show up, listen to their boring stories, have them criticize a life they only know about through my mother like I owe them something and b)acting like I owe them a goddamn thing when these asshats can’t even be bothered to send me a birthday card. (With the curious exception of my uncle, who is the generator of most abusive activity – he actually acknowledged my college graduation. Not even my parents did that, and I still wonder if it was a peculiar touche’.) It would do no good. But I will always want to do it.
With the exception of the last item, I’m pretty sure I can do all of the above. I’m actually a little disappointed in myself for not wanting to DO more. Maybe I’m just being American about it.