Lately I've been noticing that the beginning of things, of big things, is very intertwined with the ending of something else. That you can't have one without the other. And that the urge to create, to begin, is often tied up with the urge to cancel and end things. I gave my first Art Talk last week, and it felt like a beautiful beginning of something. It was a talk I have been wanting to give for some time, and being in front of a group of people talking about the art I love was an experience I had really been missing in my life. It was inspiring and enlivening and empowering, and yet, as soon as it was over, all I wanted to do was cancel the next one.
I started a forty day meditation. I'm on day one and I started three weeks ago. How is that possible, you may be wondering? In order for the meditation to count as complete, I have to do it for forty days straight. I love this meditation. It is so hard, tests me, forces me to start my day by facing all of my shit straight away. But as soon as I am done (it lasts 30 minutes) I feel so powerful. My head is clear, my heart is sparked. The rest of my day unfolds beautifully. So, why do I keep stopping? I have two voices when I wake up in the morning. One voice says, "Jojie, go do your meditation. Hold those beautiful arms up, chant those powerful words-- it's your medicine, it's your life force." The other voice says, "Baby girl, you are tired as fuck. Sleep in, hold yourself, you can do your mediation later." And then I sleep in, the day ends. I finish work and am too tired to do anything but stare at the wall. And my magic meditation doesn't happen. And when I am motivated I will go day after day doing it, and then BAM, I decide to sleep in.
The beginning. The end. The sacred space between those two.
See you in forty days.