Best Me?

Having just returned from Silver Bella with a mound of supplies and incomplete projects, I have happily been re-entering my non-Silver, non-Bella life. I have been organizing these posts in my head, how to combine them, what order, which swaps, classes, friends, vendor night... I have been looking through the blogs and seeing pictures of beautiful friends, happy creations, just the best Silver Bella ever!

 

But before I get on with all that, all the beauty, all the good, I have to start somewhere and that would be where I am. Where I so often seem to be.

I was not all happy! all the time! at this event. I did deeply enjoy the people (most of the people) and really did laugh and love, connected deeply on occasion. But mostly, I struggled. Struggled being with so many people, often in tight quarters. I was sensitive to things people said. I was driven wild by barely having elbow room, vintage scraps a'flyin'.

I was prickly and irritable. I looked at people laughing, happily creating and wondered, "what is wrong with me? I have such a great opportunity here, why am I all yucky?" I finally broke down to two poor ladies. I was actually complimenting on how precious they were together, happy as two peas on a pink pod. I cried trying to get that compliment out. It was the last class, a crowded room with bags and knees suffocating me. I packed up and left. I returned to my room and cried. I got out my supplies and I thought I am going finish one freaking project!

I had placed a tiny picture of my 3 year old self in a rhinestone circle with the words "best me" underneath. I gathered myself. I did what I do which is retreat, get alone, get quiet where I feel less crazy. I started to copper wrap my glass. Smooth it out. I had a conversation in my head about how this blog post would look. I would wait and write it when it became true, when I deserve an award for being my "best me."

Then it struck me. I am my best me. I actively work on all these feelings of anger, resentment, agitation. I eat well, exercise, rest my body, write in my gratitude journal, tell people I love them, create, and on and on. I confront my fears. I open my big mouth and tell people my damn truth and you don't have to like it. I am prickly. I hemorrhage, and rage monthly. I am irritable. Robin needs a big circle. I feel crazy. Sometimes I act crazy. I take care of people. When my own family doesn't even ask about my dying mother but strangers at Silver Bella do, I love them anyway. I shake and quake and cry and laugh.

This is it. I am my best me.

I am just not what I expected...