I’m taking a slow approach at getting this blog and my idea out there.  The baby steps are a comfortable pace for me right now.  A handful of friends, a few family members, my husband, our dog (he lets me bounce hours of ideas off him), and now Twitter all know of my writing.

     It was warm and comfy in there, but starting to bore me.  Time for release…

I’m at the point where I should be ready to start this process of giving and receiving.  I have such fear connected to the idea of starting:

~How do I get this idea out there for people to respond to?

~What if nobody wants the stuff I’m trying to release?

~What happens when it rains on the day we’re supposed to have a meet-up on my front porch?

~Will I crumble if this idea goes nowhere?

My biggest fear:

Being left with myself once all my space is free and clear. 

What if my mind suddenly realizes, “everything’s in order…now what?”  With all the clean space what if my mind goes blank.  I worry I’ll end up bored.  My hope is that I’ll read more, feed my artistic ideas, get out socializing, and explore this amazing city.  But what if, once all the clutter is gone, I end up with more time to put my faults under a magnifying glass?

I feel trapped under all of these objects and will just continue to hope that once my space is clear I’ll have a sense of freedom….

     I received my first piece of criticism concerning my blog early this week.  It startled me a bit and set me just a few paces back.  I’ve only personally given this blog address to my family members and a few friends with the sole intent of building up the courage to share it openly. 

     I love my idea intensely which is probably why any criticism this early on is bound to hurt.  Maybe I shouldn’t have been so open with my “tell me what you think” until I was truly ready to hear what people think.

     In my quest for support I instead received some somewhat harsh words: 

“It sounds like you’re doing some major soul searching these days”

                This just set a condescending tone for me to read with.

“…But I don’t know what advice a random person is going to be able to give you. It seems like only someone who knew you and your situation well would be able to give relevant advice. And if you don’t know the person, it would be hard to tell if they would give good advice. Maybe they’re flighty or a poor decision maker”

                The whole point is that I want random advice. I want to see what pours my way.  I’m excited to see what’s out there beyond people that relate to me.   I’ll use what pertains to my life and all the extra I might pass on to someone else.  And if it’s super flighty advice that’ll just make for a good story to put into my archive.  I’m not trying to take it intensely serious. 

“You said in your blog that you wanted people to share experiences that they learned the hard way so you could avoid making the same mistakes. But an important part of life IS making mistakes. That’s how you really learn and grow. You can’t do that through other people’s stories.”

                She makes an obvious point, however I don’t plan on living my life through other people’s experiences.   A guy my husband works with had a rock hit him in the knee while riding his motorcycle on the highway.  It severely bruised him even through the hard padding of his riding pants.  That week my husband went out and bought protective riding gear.  Now, a rock may never hit him in the knee, but at least he’s better protected now.  That’s a mistake that I don’t care for him to learn on his own.

“You also said that you’d like to think that people aren’t harsh, critical, and judgmental like you used to assume… it’s rare that you find someone that’s not judgmental. It’s just human nature.”

                I refuse to believe this one.  The end!

Now that I have defended my beautiful idea I can say that I do appreciate my friend’s honesty.  She made me realize how passionately attached I am to this concept of accepting a stranger’s advice while ridding my mind of clutter.  And constant cynicism.  The email that originally felt like a punch to the gut actually reignited my love for this blog!!

This weekend I visited a place that I truly believe holds magic in its soil.  Ex-Nihilo iron sculpture park was right off of state route 706 on the way to Mt. Rainier. 

Dan Klennert’s works themselves are mind warping, but the feeling you get while walking through the sculpture park is worth more than gold.  I don’t want to give away too much, but there are areas that tower over you, crack you up, make you blush, and bring out your ugly cry.  I wanted to curl up in the grass taking it all in and suddenly jump up to explore the park over and over again. 

A whole new life is given to discarded “junk” under Dan’s welding hands and glorious imagination.  Recycling.  While peeking at his scrap pieces I originally saw clutter, then my eyes starting seeing shapes.  Not the beautiful shapes that jump out for the artist’s mind, but shapes instead of junk.

I couldn’t get home fast enough.  Home to my paints and glues, photos and writing projects.  Home to create.  Another reason to clear my space: making room for my artistic projects.  On the drive back I noticed my vision was different.  Everything was more vibrant and three dimensional.  Colors and shapes were popping out all around me.  It’s a miracle I didn’t drive into a ditch! 

I now have a new place to take visitors when they come see me.  Forget Pike Place market, we’re going to Ex-Nihilo sculpture park. http://www.danielklennert.com/

I’ve grown so nervous over people’s intentions that I start to worry everyone is out to get one another.  A simple question sets me off: “excuse me, do you know what time it is?”  Quick check- is my purse on my shoulder, are my wedding rings still there, my shoes, are my shoes being tied together.  Then I realize, oh my God, this person has not only stolen my watch but is standing here in front of me arrogantly waiting for me to notice their work.  I panic, not knowing how much of a reaction my watch is worth right now.  It finally hits me that I don’t own a watch and I’m being blankly stared upon by a stranger who’s undoubtedly wondering why I’m patting myself down. 

I used to believe the world was a judgemental place.  A place where people were evaluating my every action and shaming me with their pious opinions.  I didn’t think passer’s by wanted me to smile and say hello.  My neighbor on a plane always wanted to be left alone.  I got to a place where I started stating that “I just don’t like people.”

I’m beginning to see that I’m wrong.  When people are laughing it isn’t directed toward me.  People are generally just trying to live their own lives, leaving me to make my own decisions.  Those I pass on the street and smile at tend to smile right back.  My last neighbor on a plane wasn’t snotty, she was sad about going home for a funeral. 

I do like people.  I like what we can each teach one another.  Why learn everything the hard way when others are around to help us learn from their mistakes.  We need to share more.  Less looking down and more looking around.

My whole reasoning behind asking for advice from strangers is to try to change my mind-set.  For years my thought pattern has been that people are harsh, critical, and judgmental.  I no longer want to believe that. 

A stranger willing to share their personal advice in order to help me live a better life will help me start seeing a kinder, gentler side of humankind.  If they have learned a lesson the hard way and are willing to help me from making the same mistake it will shine an obvious spotlight on the good in others. 

From this I hope to switch my thought pattern from “everyone is critical” to: “many people’s intentions are helpful.”

But I refuse to be reduced by it.”

                ~Maya Angelou

     I want to reach a point where I’m clutter free.  I don’t want to attach so much meaning to things taking up space in my house.  My aim isn’t to end up with a cold and lifeless house.   A functional home consisting only of objects that hold great meaning in my life is my ultimate goal. 

     Ridding our house of the clutter will hopefully result in more time to look inside myself.  Being able to add space for artistic avenues, hobbies that fulfill my spirit, meaningful conversations that don’t revolve around objects….

     Objects that are personally useless in my life could very likely add joy to someone else’s home.  A box full of shells collecting dust in my basement may be the perfect project pieces for someone else.  I want these items to be a good match for another person, not just clutter to be added to their home.

     Clearing our home of clutter isn’t the only goal I hope to reach.  A side result that I hope to gain from the specific idea of trading my items for other’s advice would be practice in social interaction. 

     After years of living with social anxiety and eventually agoraphobia, I’m finally on a path of trust.  I want to trust that people aren’t out there to bring me down.  I want to invite others into my space and welcome their stories and advice for a better life.  This is my start over with how I view humankind.…..

My goals:

I want to live on less.  Much less.  Clutter is crowding my thoughts.  Things are taking away my time here. 

I don’t want to throw away perfectly useful objects.  Objects that may make someone else happy. 

I need to be more social.  I’m on the healing path of trying to overcome agoraphobia and social anxiety.  Interaction with people is necessary.

I’d love to hear what advice people have for me.  With a limited glimpse at who I am, I’d love to see what advice pours my way.