OK so I’m distracted. A few mins ago thunder and lightning rolled in and now there’s a hefty rainstorm here in the Rockies. The coolest!

I’m in the painting groove again, doing small paintings for local gift shops. This is a Blue Columbine, and next I’ll do the wild iris that grows in the mountains. Then maybe a Bald Eagle.

I’ve been paralyzed with fear for a week now, after crunching the numbers for retirement. A little meager, is the outlook. Not as robust as I’d hoped. So I’ve had on one shoulder the angel telling me to trust and all will be OK. On the other shoulder sits a sniveling shitball of a little demon telling me to be afraid. To be very afraid. Because clearly I’m a complete failure.

I sink quickly into fear, panic, and self-loathing. The engine that ran my childhood home was money. Dad was a dyed-in-the-wool misogynist. Women can’t be trusted with money, was his view (when he married mom his father told him to never tell his wife how much money he had as she’d just spend it all on shoes). I’ve lived with this for a lifetime, and feel overwhelmed with shame if I feel (evidence or no) that I’ve made a mess of my finances. That I’ve taken a wrong turn. That I am completely and thoroughly incompetent and a useless female when it comes to money management. I can’t tell you how many sleepless nights I have had over the years, criticizing and doubting myself. [Hello, dad? If you’d taught me a few basics when I was young, rather than dismissing and ridiculing me, it would have helped? Like, a lot?]

So. Now is the time to embrace healing, clear-eyed planning and to love that terrified little girl who was taught she was worth nothing (sounds extreme and dramatic, but believe me it’s accurate).

Truth is, all has always worked out in my life. Now I will trust that will continue. The way the stars lined up to buy my floating home in Alameda? Incredible. The apartment I had in Oakland that just kind of showed up one day? With a view of the Golden Gate Bridge? And at the same time, at a very low point in my freelance graphic design career, I had no clue how to find new clients. The dot-bomb had exploded in the Silicon Valley and my clients either had gone belly-up or the big companies had reined in their budgets for contract designers. I was broke, scared, and clueless. And then Bon Appétit fell out of the sky and I worked for them for 20+ years and had steady work (they ran the cafeterias at Google and other companies and needed menu boards, logos, brochures etc.). That came through when I felt I’d hit bottom and that I’d made a dreadful mistake, choosing graphic design as a career. A somewhat woo-woo friend had encouraged me to practice faith in the Divine. To Turn It Over. To trust. To call on helpful angels. I rolled my eyes but I did as she suggested (seriously I had no other choice; I was at a dead end).

So again in my life I am not sure how things will work out. But I can paint, I can teach art, and I know other ideas will formulate. I’ve been catastrophizing for days. Amazing, glorious things have turned up in my life when I felt cornered. I’ll be fine. And oh the lovely pitter-pattering of rain on the roof! Delightful.

7″ x 5″ watercolor, ink on paper