GAAAAAAH!!!! (contains potty mouth).

Well, that was a crash course in frustration. On Tuesday I rang Motability to try and get a referral to my nearest driver assessment centre so I could be absolutely sure what I want and need from new Wheelchair Accessible Vehicle (WAV).

I was asked a few questions by the person on the other end of the phone….and promptly refused a grant for a WAV I can drive myself.  I don’t meet any of the criteria (mainly not having a job) but I can apply for one that would make me the passenger only. What the tartan fuck is the point of that!?  I’d be no better off than I am with the car I’ve got now.  The whole point of me getting the WAV is that I will have total freedom to lead my own life, and it also increases my chances of getting a job tenfold.

And really, is it too much to ask to be able to get in my car and take myself off for the day without needing to make sure there’s someone at the other end of my journey to sort out my wheelchair? Am I not allowed ONE freakin day in my own company?

Right now I am feeling utterly deflated.  All my plans for this year centred around that car and if I can’t get it…  I can’t give up. I won’t give up. But I may just need to go away and have a little cry first.

Dad and I have been batting around alternative ideas for finance.  One option is a ready-converted WAV but that would involve a Hire-Purchase agreement and wouldn’t cover things like insurance and roadside assistance which make Motability the only affordable way for me to have a car in the first place.

I’m going to name-drop here because Kerry at Holden Mobility has been awesome so far.  I’ve been emailing her today about this new curve-ball and she’s given me plenty of ideas about appealing decisions etc.

I was not offered the opportunity to be referred to the driver assessment centre, though I was offered a grant application form which I accepted.  When I received the application form, I noted that section 4 is specifically for applicants who wish to drive their WAV, which confused me somewhat as I was lead by the guy at the grants department to believe that grants are currently only available to those customers who wish to use the car as a passenger, not the driver.

**Sigh** I’m going to bang my head on the nearest wall now. I may be some time….

Belonging as a blessing*.

 

If you’re ever stuck for a blog topic, head over to plinky.com and have a look at their prompts.  I’ve copied a few to my computer for those times when I feel the need to communicate but can’t get started.  Today is such a time so I thought I’d start with this question:

 What does home mean to you?

For some it’s a geographic location.  For some it’s where blood relatives are, but for me it’s wherever I feel in my proper headspace.  Any place or person that gives me the time and space to feel relaxed enough express the most positive aspects of my personality is home for me.

At this particular point in my life, I feel like I’ve been away from home for a long, long time and I’m finally returning to what Clarissa Pinkola Estés would call my ‘pack’ (the premise of her book being that ‘a healthy woman is much like a healthy wolf’).   It’s been a long and bumpy ride to find my soul-mates but finally I feel like I’m getting there.

The first and most crucial step in finding out where you belong and with whom you belong, involves taking space to be on your own for a while and find out who you are.  Well, I spent that time alone, did a lot of thinking, questioning and discovering.   After this period was over I felt it was time to find out who I was in the context of my relationships with other people.

When I joined a group of artists for my degree nearly four years ago, I was happy and excited because I thought I was on my way to finding my place in the world.  However, it soon became obvious that I had nothing in common with them.  The ways in which I used art to express my truth were deeply misunderstood, and criticized for not being of a very specific nature.  As a consequence I began to mistrust my deepest instincts and fear that I was ‘doing it wrong’ – that I was wrong for the pack, when truth be told that pack was wrong for me.   At the time I couldn’t see it and instead I scuttled back into my shell sure in the knowledge that I had failed as a ‘proper artist’ and didn’t have anything of worth to give to anyone.  This episode also re-affirmed my conviction that I didn’t need or want a pack – that I truly was a solitary animal.  Now, however that I’m starting to feel a sense of belonging I realize that I’m most definitely not a solitary animal, I just function best in the company of a particular kind of person who understands my nature and gives me plenty of breathing space.

Recently, something really interesting started happening, and it’s all thanks to Twitter.  I started being ‘followed’ by people whose interest in me was completely mystifying (I’m often genuinely baffled to find that people like me).  People who awakened a part of me I’d buried away a long time ago and buried it so deep I didn’t even recognize it as an aspect of who I used to be.  However, the more willing I was to let go of these false impressions I had of myself and fully engage with these people the happier, the lighter, and the more ‘right-minded’ I’ve become.  After years of anxious searching my pack is finding me.

The hardest part of all this for me right now is learning to find my confidence with people again, to connect and trust that these new people in my life really can become friends who will to protect, nurture and teach me, instead of playing nice when there’s something in it for them then clearing off when I’ve outlived my usefulness or the novelty factor has worn off.  I also need to learn to trust my skills and my ability to be a useful and competent member of the pack.

Then there’s the softening – oh boy, that’s a tough one.  I’ve been on ‘lock down’ for so long to protect myself against ‘fair weather friends’ that to find yourself amongst genuine, decent people is at the same time a heart-warming and incredibly uncomfortable experience, but it’s a discomfort I’m more than ready to feel – that I MUST feel – if I am to move forward.

It’s all very exciting and absolutely terrifying but like I said in my last blog, this kind of fear is far healthier than the type that’s kept me separated from true self for too long.

 

Now, can we just get into 2012 so I can get cracking, please!?

 

* Blog title taken from a chapter of ‘Women Who Run with The Wolves’ by Clarissa Pinkola Estés

Coming back to life.

I’ve had a weird week.

Having had three to four years of wobbles, glums and academic stress I am starting to feel more like my old self again.  There was a time when if anyone asked my friends  the first word that sprang to mind was when they thought of me, they’d say ‘BALLSY!!’  (Some also admitted to my face that they’d rather spoon-feed a pissed off Rottweiler than get on the wrong side of me but thankfully that side of me grew up and moved on! Haha).

I used to love horse riding – I competed in a few Dressage competitions and even contemplated becoming an instructor in my early twenties, but we moved to another part of the country and by the time I was thinking about getting back into horse riding again, my body wouldn’t allow it.   I could have switched to carriage driving, but though I enjoyed it there’s nothing like that close contact with your horse (or the mild thrill of knowing you might fall – fortunately I got really good at bouncing!).

So I kind of drifted along at this more serene pace, and thought it was OK with me.  Well, that changed when I read THIS BOOK and the pennies started dropping in a big way.  It was the smack round the back of the head I needed to make me realize ‘actually, I’m not living authentically.  I’ve been sleepwalking and totally lost touch with my Wild Self’.  My well-honed inner critic locked on to this realization and took exception to the way I’ve neglected my spirit, so now I resolve to do something about that.

Next year I will be getting my Wheelchair Accessible Vehicle which means total, unbridled freedom to do anything and go anywhere.  I figure if I am going to get that much freedom back, why not go the whole hog?  So now I’m selecting some experiences I wish to have in 2012.   Of course I have to be sensible and realize that some things would just be damn stupid and really bad for my body, but within that there’s still a hell of a lot to choose from! So, I present to you the start of my 2012 Bucket List:

* Skiing

* Kayaking

* Fencing

* Ice Hockey

* Four cross Mountain Biking/Mountain trike.

* Surround myself with Batshit-crazy enablers!! LOL.

This list will get longer, and I won’t cross everything off it in 12 months, but I can have a bloody good stab at it!! I know I WILL acquire some bruises, and that some of this WILL frighten seven shades of shit out of me but you know what? That kind of fear has to be  far more healthy than the fear I’ve experienced whilst losing my identity.  BRING….IT…..ON.

If anyone reading this is disabled and taking part in an extreme sport, or you’re able bodied and assist disabled people who do,  hit me up! I am more than willing to be led astray…. **grin**.

When I was 17, it was a very good year.

I haven’t driven since the last time I blogged.  I was so hyped after such a good afternoon, feeling like my Old Self that I was determined that this was the start of me driving every weekend from now on.  Unfortunately my body has had other plans since then and I just haven’t been as sharp as I like to be when I am going to drive.  This weekend I am nursing a stiff neck and wondering when I will actually get back into my ‘mobile retreat’ again!

I started learning to drive when I was 17 and took my test just before my 18^th birthday, which I passed first time.  I used to love driving – I’d pack my riding gear on Saturday and Sunday mornings, scoot off to the stables for an hour’s ride then head home or maybe to a local beauty spot.  I was also working full time, again driving myself to and from work every day.

In 1994 we moved to another part of the country and I lost my job, but kept myself occupied with various college courses.  I walked quite regularly until it became painful, and I slowed up on that and eventually stopped, becoming a full-time wheelchair user just so I could get on with my day.  Still I had the feeling that I could get on with doing whatever I wanted to do ‘just like that’.

In 2000 I started a job at the local council.   I was there as part of a training scheme first whilst studying and HND in computing and found that I couldn’t manage college and my work placement full time, so I limited myself to two days at work with one day at college.  Then, realising I was on the wrong college course, I quit and continued to work two days a week.   I worked freelance, so I could manage my own days, do more if I wanted to one week so I could save up more money for a holiday with my family at Christmas.  That job ended in 2001 and my life slowed right down again.

In 2005 I came back from a music festival and felt like I’d been hit by a truck (or two) for a week, but I recovered.  After that I noticed that I couldn’t just ‘bounce back’ after a period of intense concentration or activity.  I didn’t know it at the time, but ‘The Spoon Theory’ had become relevant.

In 2007 I started my Art degree, that’s when things – if you’ll pardon my vernacular – really started to go down the shitter.  I was only there two days a week, but the concentration was so intense and my ‘days off’ so filled with thinking about the course, reading texts connected to it, or actually making things that I was flattened by Friday night and wouldn’t really feel human again until Tuesday and on Wednesday the whole cycle started again.  I don’t mind telling you that I came very close to cracking up a few weeks into my 2^nd year and nearly left that Christmas.  But I kept going because my pride got in the way – I wanted that degree as a matter of principle – and I STILL hadn’t made the connection that maybe my energy levels were shifting into a different gear as I got older.

When I finished my course, I was so happy. I thought that finally I was going to get some rest and REALLY snap back into my old self.  Wrong!   It soon became obvious that there is a debt to be paid every time I choose an activity – weather it’s driving my car, making jewellery or just having a night out with friends, it all seems to add up to a lot of work for my system.  It’s only now I’ve started realising just how many processes are involved in holding a simple conversation in a noisy room.

The person I am on the inside still has all the enthusiasm of 17-year-old me but the body just doesn’t comply, and it’s bloody infuriating!   You expect to feel like this at 60, maybe but not thirty-sodding-eight!!

It’s making me look back on my past and mourn it.  If I had known at 17 that in 2005 – at 32 – I would be starting to experience these restrictions I would have done so much more with my time, with my life.  This weekend I’m missing a music festival with my friends because three days of that kind of activity would have floored me completely and there was only one band I really wanted to see anyway so I was better off waiting to use all my spoons on that band the next time they tour themselves.

This sucks!  I don’t like compromise, I don’t like having to wait for a ‘good’ day in order to do the fun things other people take for granted and I do NOT appreciate the lack of control.

But, compromise and patience are things that I’m just going to have to get used to.  Who knows? Maybe I’ll finally grow comfortable in this new skin and accept myself as a disabled person?

We’ll see.

Wu Wei

Today I am musing on the subject of idleness and its value to a creative person.

Recently, my energy and inspiration began to wane as it always seems to at about this time every yea.   Last year I was physically unable to walk away from work because I was in the middle of making things for my graduation show at Uni, but this year it’s different.  I have no deadlines and no stress so this time I was able to go with the cycle and practice what the Taoists call Wu Wei, which is the art of knowing when to act, and when not to act.  I put away my beads; folded away my table and I haven’t touched either since.

There’s a certain amount of guilt – and a little fear – attached to this decision to down tools because it seems that every time I open an Etsy email, sellers are being dynamic and selling loads of art whilst maintaining their sanity and it sure does make you feel like a useless slacker.  This however, is the very time when I give my inner slave driver a talking to and remind myself that there is no set way to create – some work at night, others keep strict office hours and others still have no problem dropping the ball and taking a good long rest.   I really feel right now that the third option is best for me.  I am my own worst boss and I feel that if I am not constantly doing, my time is wasted.  This, I have discovered, could not be further from the truth.   Time spent in contemplation and experiencing life ‘in the moment’ is extremely valuable for one’s creativity.   Pretty soon I can feel my energy cycle will shift and I’ll be moved to act again, but I’m not going to force it.

For someone with a degree I can be really quite dense sometimes and I’ve only just realised the value in taking breaks has been staring me in the face the whole time when I consider my favourite musical artists.  The artists I tend to like are people who take their time over albums and are not afraid to drop one thing and explore another art form or style just out of sheer curiosity.  I see now that this approach can’t ever hurt your creativity, only enhance it.

‘Down’ time in the future will also be less daunting because I know what to do with it now.  When my creative brain is not firing, my analytical side takes over and this is the best time for me to do what’s necessary to turn my creativity into my career.  I’ve set up new Twitter account for my etsy shop and re-arranged the shop itself.  The simple act of creating new categories has already begun to inspire me, as has bringing my sketch book up to date (speaking of which, it’s funny how I couldn’t fill those books to save my life when I HAD to at Uni but now I’m actually enjoying it!).

It’s now been about 6 weeks since I made anything and I’m starting to get itchy fingers again.  But this time they are genuinely itchy and I’m not forcing myself to make something just because I feel I should.  I’m not quite at the point of having clear design ideas in my head but I will put my table up again and let it sit, just to get myself in the right mindset.  Again, I’m not forcing myself.  I’ll take baby steps and act when moved to do so.

So, dear readers, how do YOU manage your creative lulls? Do you battle through them or take the ‘Wu Wei’ approach.   Did your submission to the natural cycles of inspiration yield a particularly satisfying piece once you started to create again? Let me know! And do show me pictures, I love seeing everyone’s work.