I am learning a lot about my body.
It just simply cannot hold too much excitement and inspiration. My brain can hold it all. My heart can hold even more. My body? Not so much.
The original painting sale was awesome. Thank you you so much for all the love. Most sold in 14 minutes. All sold in about 30 minutes. Do I really live this life?
During the sale (plus the entire day before the sale), I was having full day jam sessions with the mega talented Alexandra Franzen. Before the back to back sessions with Alex, I had a life changing brainstorming session with my Hello Soul Hello Business partner, Beth Nicholls.
These possibility-fueled sessions plus nerves about the painting sale plus my heart and brain about to explode with what I now know I must create in 2013 = an explosion of too much possibility.
I’ve been sick in bed ever since. Diagnosis: Possibility Overdose.
Do you ever feel like one of those really eccentric creative ladies who is up up up in the clouds with language and ideas and confidence in what could be, but you likely sounds crazy to everyone else because what you are talking about doesn’t exist yet? Yeah? Me, too. Especially lately.
I’ve been out in the wild west territory of the Creative Inspiration Stratosphere these last couple of weeks, friends. It has indeed been wild, like discovering a whole new world. And I know this is how it goes. Inspiration hits and it feels like a tornado comes through and dismantles everything. This can last days, weeks. Adrenalin kicks in. You body, spirit, heart prepares for the onslaught of force and momentum. You try to grab a hold onto every piece of that inspiration explosion as it spins and whirls through. You’re in survival mode, grabbing each piece of inspiration that flies by, not sure how it fits into the bigger puzzle, but you grab for it anyway. You scribble down impossible ideas that come to you in the shower, in your dreams, in the car. You lose sleep. Your brain is LIT UP. It’s chaotic, frustrating, amazing. Then, when things settle a little bit from the storm, you try and distill it each piece that you were able to grab ahold of. You incubate it. You brainstorm it. You unravel it.
And then, finally, if you are lucky, it arrives: CLARITY. Clarity on how to best use the inspiration in service of your bigger mission.
Ahhhh, some peace. Everything changes.
You have landed. You have survived the tornado. And all is well. But your body, your vessel, your temporary spirit home…well, it pays a price.
You rest for a good long while. You drink lots of water. You get over the acuity of Possibility Overdose. (This is where I’m at right now in this crazy making process)
And then, later, after you give your body and soul its well deserved downtime, you slowly begin the tedious process of sifting through the debris, picking up all the bits and pieces that got strewn all over your life during the divine creative explosion.
You organize them. You strategize. And you make a plan to birth it all.
I’m thinking nine months from now, there will be a big birth around here.
It’s going to be amazing.
And you? I have you to thank for everything. And YOU will be a huge part (everything, really) of this new baby. Just wait…
In the meantime, I’m going to rest and enjoy the rest of the holiday season. I’m going to slow down, breathe it all in, and wish upon stars upon stars.
Can’t thank you enough for everything.
Hi, I'm Kelly Rae Roberts!
Before I picked up my first paintbrush at the age of 30, I was a medical social worker. I followed my whispers and started playing with paint and everything changed.
Now I’m a full-time artist, author and Possibilitarian, who helps women explore and nourish their creative souls.
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