Still in the Middle of the Story

What the Ravens Know — My newest fiber art piece, created right in the middle of everything life has thrown at me. Apparently, the ravens knew something I didn’t—it sold before it ever made it to the gallery. ❤️

Apparently, I take two-hour naps now.

Not cute little twenty-minute power naps where you wake up refreshed, stretch your arms and say, Wow, I really needed that.

Nope.

I mean a full-blown, two-hour, What day is it and what the heck just happened? kind of nap. That was me today.

And apparently, I needed it.

Monday was another long day in Tucson, but this time I wasn't the patient. My hubby, Kevin, had shoulder replacement surgery. Thankfully, everything went really well. They gave him a 72-hour nerve block, and he has been doing amazingly well with very little pain.

Of course, there is a tiny part of me thinking, Excuse me? Where was this lovely, pain-free surgery experience when it was MY turn?

I'm happy for him.

Really, I am.

Mostly.

Okay, I'm kidding. 😂

It was a long day, though. The drive to Tucson, waiting through surgery, driving home and making sure Kevin was doing okay took more out of me than I realized.

My body apparently kept track.

And today it presented me with the bill.

Amount Due: One two-hour nap. Payable immediately.

So I paid it.

Still Trying to Figure Out This Body

Last week, I had what may have been the best massage I've ever had.

Coming from someone who spent fifteen years as a massage therapist, that's saying something.

His name is Justin, and the poor man had absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into when I walked through his door.

We had one 90-minute session.

ONE.

I explained the hip replacement, emergency revision, infection, months of recovery, pain, muscles that aren't doing what they're supposed to do and all the other assorted fun I've accumulated since April.

For quite a while, we thought one of my biggest problems was my psoas.

Justin started investigating.

Turns out we're talking more about my psoas tendon, my iliacus, my glute med and tissue that has been through one heck of a battle.

At this point, I think he should add an investigative fee to my massage.

Every time someone starts poking around in there, another body part files a grievance.

"Excuse me. We'd also like to report an unsafe working environment."

I see Justin again next week.

I'm pretty sure he'll stretch before I walk through the door.

Possibly hydrate.

Maybe say a little prayer.

And Then There's My Brain

Today I also had my therapy session with Jayden.

Last week I was pretty down and out. This week I'm doing better.

That's how life seems to work around here lately.

One day I think, Hey! I'm doing pretty darn good!

The next day?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Jayden and I talked about trauma therapy today, and she said something that really stuck with me.

We can't really begin the deeper trauma work yet because I'm still going through it.

My brain has been in protective mode for months. Between surgeries, infection, recovery, doctors, antibiotics, pain and uncertainty, it hasn't had a chance to decide the coast is clear.

Basically, my brain has hung a sign on the door:

OCCUPANCY LIMIT REACHED.

NO MORE TRAUMA ACCEPTED AT THIS TIME.

Fair enough.

But here's what I've started realizing.

While one part of my life is still dealing with all of that...

the rest of my life didn't stop.

And thank goodness it didn't.

Apparently, My Ravens Didn't Get the Memo

In the middle of everything else, I've been back in my studio creating.

And boy, does that feel good.

I recently finished my newest raven piece, What the Ravens Know. I worked hard on it, fussed over it, changed things, stared at it, walked away from it, came back and stared at it some more—you know, the highly sophisticated artistic process.

Eventually, I decided it was finished.

I got it photographed, printed everything I needed and prepared it for its big debut at the gallery.

And then...

It sold.

Before it even made it to the gallery.

Well, darn.

Now I have to make another one.

I named the piece What the Ravens Know. Looking at those two standing there together in the middle of that wild, tangled forest, maybe they know something I'm still learning—that just because you're in the middle of the story doesn't mean you stop living it.

Of course, apparently they also knew they were going to sell before reaching the gallery.

It would have been nice if they'd told me. 😂

This is apparently the terrible burden of being an artist.

You spend hours and hours creating something, someone loves it enough to buy it, and your first reaction is:

WOOHOO!

Followed approximately three seconds later by:

Oh crap. Now I have an empty spot.

😂

So now comes the difficult task of creating another piece.

And by "difficult," I don't necessarily mean making it.

I mean figuring out what the heck I want to make next.

There are photographs to look through. Ideas to consider. Animals staring at me from my computer screen saying, Pick me! Pick me!

And eventually something will grab me.

It always does.

That's one thing about me that apparently survived all of this completely intact.

My body may be confused.

My brain may have reached maximum occupancy.

But my creative mind?

She's still causing trouble.

And I couldn't be happier about that.

Colorado Is Calling

I'm also getting ready for my upcoming trip to Colorado.

And yes, I've thought about the fatigue.

I've thought about my hip.

I've thought about all the things my body has been doing lately that I wish it would kindly STOP doing.

There's definitely some nervousness mixed in there.

But there's something else, too.

Excitement.

I'm going to Colorado because I'm an artist.

I'm going to share my work through a lecture and trunk show, tell the stories behind the pieces I've created, and then the next day I'll get to teach a class.

I'll get to be surrounded by creative people.

I'll get to talk about fiber and art and techniques and all those wonderful things that make my brain light up.

For those moments, I won't just be the woman with the hip replacement.

Or the infection.

Or the fatigue.

Or the latest medical appointment.

I'll be Deb the artist.

I'll be the teacher.

I'll be doing something I love.

And I cannot tell you how much I'm looking forward to that.

Will I get tired?

Probably.

Will my hip have an opinion?

Almost certainly.

Will I need a nap?

At this point, we should probably just pencil one in.

But I'm going.

Life Doesn't Have to Wait

That's what struck me today.

I've spent so much time thinking about healing and recovery and trying to understand who I am after everything that's happened.

But maybe I've been looking at it from the wrong direction.

I don't have to wait until this chapter is over to keep living the rest of my story.

I'm still creating.

I'm still teaching.

I'm still planning.

I'm still selling artwork.

I'm still laughing.

I'm still loving my husband—even though I'm slightly annoyed that he apparently ordered the deluxe, low-pain surgery package. 😂

I'm still dreaming about what I want to create next.

And yes, I'm still healing.

All of those things can exist at the same time.

Still in the Middle of the Story

Last week I wrote about learning to say, I'll get there when I get there.

I still believe that.

But maybe there's another piece to it.

I don't have to put my life on hold until I get there.

That's a big one for me.

Maybe you're in the middle of something, too.

Maybe it's health.

Grief.

Family.

Work.

A relationship.

A dream that hasn't worked out the way you expected.

Whatever it is, maybe you've been waiting for things to get better before you give yourself permission to enjoy your life again.

Maybe you don't have to.

You don't have to wait until everything is fixed.

You don't have to understand everything that's happened.

You don't even have to know how this particular chapter ends.

Find the thing that still lights you up.

Make something.

Go somewhere.

Teach something.

Learn something.

Laugh at something completely ridiculous.

And if your body demands a two-hour nap afterward?

Take the darn nap.

Because I've realized I'm not waiting for my story to start again.

It never stopped.

I'm still in the middle of it.

There are just a few more plot twists than I would have written for myself.

And apparently...

a whole lot more ravens.

—Deb