Many ways to climb a mountain…

First let me say that the promised FAQ’s on the mysteries of Intentional Creativity® Coaching are, indeed, coming to a blog near you. Wednesday! It’s just that a few new things bubbled to the top of the timely list this weekend and we’re being flexible. (Well, mentally, at least!)

It started with Soul Bird, Shiloh Sophia McCloud’s newest medicine painting project. The livestream began Saturday at 11 am in California which translates to just after lunch in Atlanta.

I knew I couldn’t paint live as I had somewhere else to be a bit later but I always try to be there for the beginnings of a livestream so I can be part of the red thread circle, connecting so many amazing people together around the world.

In addition to red thread, there was a good bit of dancing on the part of our fearless leader. Much of it having to do with a bright yellow feather boa and relaxing into the sense of being held in a mother’s wings.

Leaving my clean, ready canvas and a box of brand new paint waiting in the studio, I moved on to the next right thing.

I was going to a Bar Mitzvah. My first. Via Zoom. The young man being called to the Torah was my neighbor and pre-Covid paint buddy.

Trust me when I tell you that learning to read Hebrew is hard. Never mind needing to sing it, too! Okay, chant. I can only imagine what a challenge it must be for a neuro-diverse 13 year old who is more than a bit familiar with social anxiety. In fact, I suspect the whole compassionate distancing thing might have been, at least in some ways, helpful.

A few days ahead of time, my participant’s package was left on the front porch. A note from my buddy, with very helpful directions. A kipah, should I wish to cover my head. A service bulletin. Some gummy-type candies for throwing sweetness at the new adult and a reminder that jaw-breakers were not an adequate substitute, especially in the current circumstances. And a package of wildflower seed for making the world a more beautiful place.

I’d been to the Temple of Atlanta’s largest Reformed congregation, originally organized in 1867, twice before. Once as a seminary student and once as a transitional object for an anxious counseling client.

The Covid-style updates were quite evident. My grasp of architectural vocabulary in Hebrew is non-existent so we’re going for big plastic screens around where leaders would stand to speak. A handful of family, masked and appropriately distanced in the pews. Two rabbis, clearly delighted to be celebrating this young man who had worked so hard to prepare for the day.

And me, in tears through the whole service.

Why? is a reasonable question. Well, my own granddaughter is just the same age. And 13 is hugely hard to believe! And I so deeply want to be able to hug her on her birthday. But that’s not an option just now.

This is my girl, on a recent, compassionately distanced, mountain top experience of a different sort.

And, it’s just possible that there were a couple of other things behind my tears.

The winged statue behind the rabbi as she spoke and chanted scripture looked like an eagle with ears and just may turn out to be a hint of Soul Bird things to come.

And, this is the first time I’ve “attended” a Jewish service since discovering, through the magic of DNA, that this particular Presbyterian minister may well have Jewish branches on her family tree.

Here’s what I do know…

Both of these young people, the one climbing Red Rocks and the one in the prayer shawl, are huge reasons for hope in the future. (And for voting!)

For now, I’m off to check winged creatures in Exodus 25:20 with thanks to my neighbor’s mom and (I suspect) the rabbi she has on speed dial.

But first, Phoebe’s treat time, also known as eye meds and munchies!

ps… my purple feathered boa arrives Tuesday. When in Rome and all that!

pps… tomorrow (Sept. 7) is the last day for the special promotion on my Etsy shop. I’m donating 25% of all profits to Giving Kitchen, to help food service and restaurant workers, and their families, climb mountains of financial challenges during the Covid crisis.

The Scary C-Word

Rumor has it that there are folks in the world who think change is fun. Exciting. Way better than same.

There are times when I’m one of them.

There are also lots of times when I’m not. A perspective which seems to be more than a bit sub-optimal in this world at this moment.

Here’s an example…

It’s only been a week since I published (with more than a bit of behind the scenes hassle!) a post about my painting, The Co-Creative Soul “hanging” in a virtual museum show.

It really does feel like a miracle!

And, there’s more to the story.

You see, the painting wasn’t quite finished. Technically it was. Thirteen moons worth of steps completed. Lots of paint and journaling and hours just spent listening to the image as it/they emerged. And lots of theological pondering.

But something still didn’t quite fit and I couldn’t figure it out.

At the same time, I was making space in the studio for an art intern. And sorting options for sales. So The Co-Creative Soul went on a vacation to the basement.

Then, last week, she re-appeared. I was so glad to have her energy back in my space!

And, she told me what she needed.

You probably won’t notice the change in the photo and that’s okay. Hint: it has to do with the miracle glaze with the funny name, nicknamed QNAC.

An integrating glaze to be specific. Which means that the part of the painting that didn’t feel like it belonged visually – though it was totally necessary theologically – now fits.

It’s a huge relief… even if it did involve, you know… change.

And here’s the thing… this was one of those changes that worked fine by giving it time to marinate in the basement. Some of them don’t.

That’s when busting out the markers and paper and hooking up with somebody wise in the ways of Intentional Creativity® Coaching gets handy.

Many of you have asked questions about what ICC is and how it works. On Sunday, we’ll answer a whole bunch of those. For today, just hang with the energy of my finished (I think!) painting and meditate on the notion of what you might co-create in your world, if only this or that didn’t feel stuck.

Yes, you!

And, just in case you didn’t have time for the museum show last week, this link works. The whole show is just under 5 minutes long and you’ll recognize mine when you see it.

I have a painting in a museum show!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Unsticking Stuck Stuff is what happens around here!

Sue Boardman, Certified Intentional Creativity®
Color of Woman Teacher & Coach