Okay…I know I’m not crazy. But then, if I were crazy, would I really know? And if I didn’t know, then it really wouldn’t be my problem. It’d be Mr. Al’s problem and I don’t need to really worry about it.
What brought this on, you ask?
Well, I shall tell you.
I’ve been doing a TON of active imagination and journaling lately, getting in touch with my Muse…my inner supportive voice (much, MUCH different than that toxic inner critic voice.) I’m thinking my Muse is actually a conduit between me and my Creator, maybe even that part of me that IS my Creator…the still small voice.
Whatever, that voice isn’t as still or as small as it once was. In fact, the more I pay attention to it, the louder it gets.
But in a good way.
She likes to have fun. Keeps me from taking myself too seriously.
But, oh my God, she’s taken over my wardrobe and, through her eyes, I just am not wearing the clothes that support who I am becoming at this juncture in my life.
“What do you think of this?” I ask her, putting on my usual comfy sweat shirt.
“Mmmmmmm,” she replies in a high, whine with a screwed up face, “Don’t you have anything with flowers on it?”
She’s really into flowers these days, my Muse. Flowers, bright colors, sparkles.
And chocolate cupcakes cuz who doesn’t love chocolate cupcakes?
The way she cooks….
I’m not going to be able to fit into my wardrobe and will be forced to buy new clothes.
I think that’s her plan.
But, I’m not crazy.
Have a great week, peeps!