Who would have thought that a blog entry called Blurts would be one of my most responded to posts? Could it be that we are most comfortably interconnected through the inner critic of our minds? That voice that tells us we are not really writers, painters, artists? In the aforementioned post, I shared with you a walk down memory lane and posted my "blurts" (negative self-talk/beliefs) of four years ago. I wish I could say that they no longer exist, but alas that ugly critic still pops up more often than I like. However, thanks to the topic of this post, Affirmations, I have at least moved forward a tiny bit.
Julia Cameron author of The Artist's Way says "if we can become one-tenth as good at positive self-talk as we are at negative self-talk, we will notice an enormous change." Enormous? Maybe. Four years ago I could barely write for myself and now have the courage to share with others on a regular basis. Maybe I have taken bigger steps than I realized. But, I digress.
The challenge for today is to make peace with our blurts and turn them into positive affirmations. So take a look at the previous post and see what happens when we listen to that kinder, gentler voice who wants us to succeed.
Here are my responses:
1) I am only 47 (half my lifetime) and I can already eat, walk, read & write!
2) I am smart. I can learn to write. I can write!
3) Follow God. He will give me the time.
4) Lame excuse. I am willing to learn to let myself create.
5) My creativity heals myself and others. There is a divine plan of goodness for my work.
6) As I listen to the creator within, I am led.
7) Through use of my creativity, I serve God. God will show me what is 'productive.'
8) Artists are brilliant. They can experience and share things in a way no one else can.
Wow. A little older, maybe a little wiser, but the affirmations feel so much truer than those silly old blurts. I feel stronger already. So, lovely readers, here's your chance, bring on those positive affirmations! I can't wait to read!!!
photo by janey
Saturday, November 24, 2007 at 9:43 AM 
The little dog wiggled his way into their hearts with ears of bright pink and hair the color of an old woman’s or a young punk star—silvery with darkened roots & undertones. Teeth like Dracula’s fangs—more inclined to nuzzle rather than bite. Still, he is ready to pounce at the nearest squirrel or unassuming bird—standing stock still with 4-inch tail on point. He stole their books (found shredded & even buried in the garden), their draperies (heaped near the patio door, the casualty of a squirrel hunt gone bad) and their hearts (forever changed by his presence). 
