Paula Jones

My Lyrical Journey: How I Painted My Heart Wide Open


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here I am. Painting and writing. And if, by writing this, I encourage just one person to take a leap of faith . . . then I have made a difference.

      As a side note . . . and an FYI . . . the book is a collection of blogs beginning when I first started realizing that art was going to change me. Hell, how it HAS changed me. As I went through all of the blog entries, I realized that I needed to add post-scripts to the majority of them . . . just to help you understand how MUCH this changed my life.

      Enjoy . . .

      Thirty paintings in thirty days

      April 21 2010

      An Artist’s Spiritual Journey and Coming Home

      Two years ago, I made the decision to separate and eventually divorce my husband of 25 years. He was a wonderful man, but I did not feel I was living my authentic life, and to stay with him would feel out of integrity for me. I didn’t know any of the answers to the questions how, what, when, where and why, but I determined to find them.

      I moved to Taos, New Mexico. I had been painting — was an artist — at that time for almost 5 years. I picked up a brush for the first time in May of 2003 and knew that I truly was an artist. I always possessed the inner knowledge that I could support myself painting — I NEVER any doubt. However, I started listening to the “nay-sayers,” the “well-poisoners;” making others’ realities mine (always did have boundary issues); and went into fear (really nasty place — believe me). So, I began my search — for ME.

      I looked everywhere — working with a personal coach, studying meditation, learning energy healing — trying ANY spiritual practice that presented itself to me. I received certificates as a personal coach, a home-stager, and a matrix energetics healer, and I went to a “movers and shakers” marketing workshop in Marina del Rey, California.

      I was always searching, but not quite finding. I was always eager to move on to the next step instead of enjoying the moment — except when I was in California where I found a nearly whole sand dollar on Venice Beach at 11 o’clock in the morning — was that a sign?? Looking for me. Finding incredible mentors, coaches and friends along the way, but still not discovering who Paula was.

      I tried on many hats. Ask my friend Brooke. It was the “career de jour” for a while! But only a couple of ideas seemed to continually repeat themselves. I read self-help books and listened to spiritual gurus, wondering what these people “had” that I didn’t.

      Turns out — they had themselves. They all believed in who they were. They all followed their passions. They followed their bliss. They knew who they were. They dropped their fear and came into their center and loved . . . themselves. There is no greater love than the love of self. Only then can you truly love others and give love unconditionally.

      I had a shift — a BIG one. This makes me giggle almost uncontrollably as a friend calls me “The Queen of Shifts.” I started looking at what gifts I possessed. Gifts I had received from Creator/God/Spirit. I looked at who I was. At what I would “do” if I didn’t “have” to make an income.

      It always came back to Art. Art first; buying houses and turning them into homes second; and spiritual coaching third. All of these alchemical processes.

      I started deliberately setting intentions while I meditated to allow Spirit to come through me in the way that was unique to only me — in a way that brings me joy, serves Creator — in a way that allows me to “be” who I am. I surrendered. I allowed. And . . . I started painting . . . incredible paintings.

      It was as if Spirit said to me “Welcome back, Little One, to yourself; to the divineness that is you.” I’m so thankful that I waited for me. This is who I am . . . an artist . . . a creative being. I allow God — the God that is within all of us — to come through the talent of my brush; through the talent of my ability to create sacred spaces; through the talent of my ability to help others.

      I’ll be honest. When I first wanted to paint “Thirty in 30,” it started as “100 in 30.” I wanted to make a BIG statement. I wanted people to look at me. I wanted recognition. Heck, I wanted to make Money. Such ego driven reasons.

      But . . . a gallery owner requested that I really contemplate the reason for the painting spree. And I concluded that I was doing this for me — to come home to me — to simply “be” me. I’m not a human “doing.” I am a human “being.” When you know that, it is enough to “be” exactly who you are —without recognition, without approval, in spite of what others “say or think” about you. Then you have truly “become.”

      Much Love,

      Paula

      So you see . . . it started a long time ago. WAAAAYYYY back at the beginning. The Wide Opening of my Heart. Art has saved me. Art has allowed me to become who I am. Art has loved me unconditionally and graciously. The muse was always with me. “I” just had to allow her to come through me.

      Judgment

      April 27 2010

      As I continue on this path, this journey, a number of “lessons” continue to pop up. Judgment, nasty as it is, frequently rears its ugly head. There are as many ways of judging as there are people in the world. Generally, as I have been observing, it comes from not really knowing what another’s path is and projecting how I (or you) would behave in a similar circumstance.

      I know we are all human, but we are also all one. I catch myself — at least I CATCH myself now; before it was from rote — making comments once in a while . . . being the perfect being that I am!!!!

      “I don’t understand how they can/can’t do that. If it were me, I would do X, Y and Z!” And so on and so on. We all do it. We’re all “guilty” of judgment.

      Recently, I have found myself the victim of judgment. It has to do with the almighty dollar….the “thing” that makes one “happy.” Not that I am rolling in the dough, but I am comfortable and don’t go without meals. Comments have been made to me about how “easy” my life has been.

      “You are lucky.” Yes. Yes, I am. And for the financial security that is now in my life, I am grateful. But I have been and am being judged because of it.

      Moreover, those who are on this path and have financial security, still have lessons and challenges. Just because you are secure financially does NOT guarantee happiness, peace and contentment. That only comes from within, regardless of circumstances. For a while, I had everything that money could buy and yet, I would consider suicide at least once a month. I lived in my own personal hell. I have chosen, deliberately, to not come from fear, but to come from love. That does NOT mean that I am perfect — far from it.

      My children have also fallen victim to this judgment. It is difficult to live in a small town in Western Kansas when you are a large fish in a small pond. I thought that when I moved to Taos, this type of activity would subside somewhat . . . but, alas, it is still happening.

      A path is a path, and my journey is my journey; no one else’s. Now, I find my lesson is to learn to look past those who judge; to have compassion for them, knowing that they have their own path. It’s knowing that “you cannot judge a book by its cover;” “judge not, lest ye be judged;” and “don’t judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes.” Just because someone’s journey is different from yours does not make their journey easier or harder. It just simply IS.

      So, my personal commitment to myself is to work on having compassion for others and their journeys. I challenge each of you to the same.

      Paula

      As I reread and edit these past blogs, I am reminded how far I have come, and yet how far I need to go. AND how content I am to be right where I am. Living in the present. Allowing things to come to me. I never thought, back then, that I would get here. I never, in a million years, thought I would be able to say . . . I’m happy. And, I’m passionate. And, I love my life. Because I do. Yes, there are days that are challenges, but I don’t spiral as far down before I screech