"Ribbon of Light"

"Ribbon of Light" Acrylic on Canvas 12"x36"

I woke up last Tuesday with an itchiness in my chest I hadn't felt in years. Despite the length of time, I knew what that feeling meant...the wheezy descent of my bronchial tubes into major congestion. Usually, at the slightest sign of a cold, I chase it with of Airborne-fizzed gallons of water and a few Cold-eeze lozenges but despite my quick response to that warning tickle, my body rapidly took the downward spiral, hit by a wall of exhaustion and a clogged respiratory system from top to bottom. I couldn't even read, as my head felt it had grown to at least 150% its normal size.

Realizing I had had a lot on my mind lately, I decided to just let go of everything...after all, there was nothing I could do at that point, so giving my head a break, also meant giving my emotions and body a break, too. Each time I started to think about something I had to attend to on some level, I let go and just focused on thinking about nothing. As a result of this, I found I was getting a profound rest at a deeper level of my being. I was letting everything just be what it was; something that I know I'm capable of doing all the time, but usually haven't. So often, I've been busy fighting what is, comparing, projecting, what-iffing that I resist the beauty in the moment. Whatever cares I have had, whatever cares I might take on, the exact moment that I'm in is usually just fine. And other than the obvious physical woes, that's what I felt while lying in my bed for the better part of three days.

With gratitude for the effectiveness of zinc in the battle against the mighty cold virus, tonight my symptoms are beginning to improve. In reality, it was my finding my peace with myself which truly turned the tide, with the zinc and the aforementioned reservoir of water providing reinforcements. As my energy is building, so is my drive to continue expanding my platform of creation and produce more works of art, whether carving, sculpting, painting or writing, as well as connecting with the wondrous ever-extending community of friends and family that I am blessed to share. I've even decided to do a second mosaic for Healing From the Ashes. Yes, it's like giving birth. After you've recovered and you're embracing your beloved child, you can't remember how you felt when you were sure you'd never do it again!