It Is A Matter of Focus

I found myself facing total ruin, "Now What" rang through my ears day and night. I could feel the pressure of life closing in around me, and it was not good. I had always enjoyed drawing. It was a great escape, but I was not good at it, and there was no way it would be my saving grace. I sat discouraged.

My mother brought me a drawing pad and said, "Here, use this." I took the pad, sat down, feeling as if I would not fix my life by drawing it would be a good distraction. "What would I draw, though?" I asked myself, knowing I was ashamed of most of what I had drawn. "I suspect it doesn't matter," I told myself as I flipped through the pages.

My mind full of pain and aching from bills, collections threats, sick stomach, heartbreak, and bitterness over my recent split, could barely concentrate. I found a reasonable number two pencil and tried to draw. My hands didn't want to cooperate.

My hand was cramped, and I could only draw for a little while. It wasn't terrific. I was disappointed. However, I looked at the clock, and quite a bit of time had elapsed, and I had not noticed. At this point, I felt every moment. Sometimes every second-most of it painfully. I sat there happy that I had found a way to distract my mind from this desperate and painful situation.

The next day I picked up the drawing pad and started with a new drawing, it was equally disappointing, but I needed to get out of my head. I sat there with my pencil drawing for hours. I read a meme that said, "The greatest gift of self-love that you give yourself is the gift of inner silence." My inner self was never silent, ever as far as I knew. I sat drawing and said, "I want to learn how to do this, "Inner silence." I started to draw.

I would try not to think and deliberately not think. At first, I tried to. It was the space between the thoughts that caught my eye. I noticed there was room there. I also noticed that my thoughts became different when I slowed my breathing down and breathed differently than usual. My art became more focused. My muscles were still cramped.

I started to not pay attention to how much time was evolving, and I was beginning to focus on how I could throw myself into my work and follow my inspiration. But sadly, there were times when a bill collector would call, or I would receive a threatening letter there would go my focus for a little while.

After a while, however, I started to change and become less phased by these attempts to distress me. I began to come to a place that my artwork took over, and I stopped caring about interfering with things that were out of my control. Instead, I started to only deal with what was in my direct control, which was within my ability. So, I drew, and I drew, and I threw myself into drawing.

I saw everything had changed within a relatively short time. Then, finally, the Universe itself seems to start to agree and come to join me on this journey, and things began to work out. Other people started to take notice and compliment me about my artistic ability. So, I threw myself deeper into drawing, finding people to draw to challenge myself to draw. Now I could handle drawing for long periods. Now I could sit down, work and my art would look like the person I was drawing.

There came a voice that said, "Go Now." I instantly knew what to do. I laid my stuff down and went to the gas station. Where the clerk gave me the wrong ticket, I think she wanted to choke me that day. I told her, "Please fix it" she did; I saw the numbers; 2-14-62 were the numbers, and the prize $10,000.00 just enough, I mean within pennies to save me. I went back to drawing and said, "Universe, it's in your hands." The following day I wake up, set my artwork to the side, and check my lottery ticket to my amazement, 2-14-62.

I shout for my mother, "Mom!" She rushes to me, bewildered. I asked her, do these numbers match the numbers you see here? She promptly said, "Yes." I added, "Is the date correct. She added, "It's today's date." She questioned me, "How much did you win?" I said, "$10,000.00" She sat in awe. ." I went numb that day; I was in genuine bewilderment.

The Universe had come to my rescue. I was in awe. "Me, the Universe had saved Me! Of all the people." Those words rang through my head to the lottery office in Lexington, Kentucky. I was validated in the highest terms the Universe had spoken. I was on the right path. Funny how people think I'm lying when I tell them this story today, I can see why. I don't get upset; I would say the same thing if someone told me the same level. However, now I know it's true because it happened to me, Dec 2, 2010, a day I will never forget. I even have witnesses.

Today I have the luxury of drawing some fantastic people. However, some were never meant to be a part of my journey, and they fell, by the way. The quality people, however, are still with me. They are the people that tell me the truth, and I love them for it. Others are just there to play games and show off pretend they are unique. They rush the stage to grab the podium to blabber something useless and shout, "There there."

I'm happy being me. That's alone right now. It's better to be alone than to be with someone that makes you miserable. I'm glad I am drawing, writing being me, strange, quirky, passionate, odd me.