Constant swinging from extreme to extreme has eroded my definition of stability. I need stable, solid ground (a supporting structure) - even if I have no idea how to get it. I need to invite healing. I've discovered that applying a structure forces my compliance in key areas such as taking my meds and managing my sleep. In turn, I can function - devote myself to being the best me possible, by undertaking realistic yet challenging creative endeavours. Being the best Roxanne I can be matters a great deal, because of this thing called authenticity.
As I embark on my own artist's way, I'm placing more focus on assigning time for daily writing practise. Writing my own variation of morning pages to keep stagnation at bay. It's only just occurring to me that an artist cultivates inspiration, rather than catching or receiving it. I have stories I must tell; and so, must strengthen and sharpen my story telling skills.
And what of healing? When embroiled in a fight for survival, one loses sight of the healing process and what it entails. And so, healing, for me, involves observing my limits and vulnerabilities. Also, accepting and honouring them. I challenge my Self, on a daily basis, to document the many ways in which bipolar/anxiety affect(s) my life and the lives of those around me. Authenticity for me means telling certain stories. Telling these stories means I gotta roll up my sleeves and dig into the guts of it all. At the primal, biochemical level of life, my body has a story to tell. I'm bound to stay and experience it, even when I don't like the truth it reveals.
Discipline means I've taken the initiative and dedicated energy toward designing a schedule for myself. It means surrendering to transparency as the story unfolds and envelops me. Most importantly, discipline means forging endurance ... showing up at the page, screen, canvas - ready to give my pound of flesh even when I don't feel like it. It means doing, making, behaving my Sunday Best .... all the time - even when no one's looking.
That's how I see life from my vantage point - at the junction of now and now.