the chrysalis

by, Alisa Yardley

My life is in the shitter, and today, I am grateful. Crazy right? Not really. It's a matter of perspective. I have been living in deep isolation for almost a year now. I've been facing serious problems in every part of my life. My health is in jeopardy, my finances are a mess, the house I'm living in is falling apart around me, I ended an almost decade long relationship with someone I love, my oldest cat is very ill, and not likely to see many more moons... I have every reason under the sun to be pissed off, hurt and bitter. I would be lying if I said I don't feel that way on many occasions. However, something else is happening too. I am being reborn. And that, is a seriously cool thing.

I've been in a fight to survive, since spring 2013, when I did what I think of as selling my soul: I signed up for university. Maybe that's not what you were expecting me to say. In fact, I love education. I can't get enough of learning new things, but I like to do it my own way. I'm not against people attending university. I would have loved to go when I was younger, but I was 35 at the time and wouldn't get my undergraduate degree until I was 40, which wouldn't have been enough for me, as I was interested in becoming a psychologist, and that takes more than four years.

I signed up, because the man I was with at the time, gave me an ultimatum. He said, get a normal job, go back to school, or I'm out of here. Boy, do I wish I would have shown him the door instead of caving to his demands. I am an artist. Through and through. Period. Full stop. I write songs. I sing. I draw. I colour. I write poetry, short stories, full novels, and anything else I can try my hand at because I think it's FUN! I tried every style I could think of just to see what would happen. My songs cross a range of genres and my books are as varied as if written by different authors, because I truly love to explore new ideas, and new ways of doing things. I love the creative process with the kind of dedication a mother shows to her child. It is a part of me. It is who I am.

University was by no means all bad. I learned some fascinating things there. I was validated in many ways. The thing is, I was just at the point of making real headway in a very competitive field. I had just come home from Canadian Music Week where I had placed in the finals of a song writing contest, with a A+ rating on the song I presented. I was standing at the plate, about to swing the bat, when I allowed my attention to be called away. There were people in my life who didn't support what I was doing. They felt it was too risky. It is risky. It's a hard business to break into, but I was making progress. I had written three full length novels that I tossed on a shelf and didn't touch again for years. I had professionally released two, four song EPs and was recording more. I had a long way to go, but there was hope. And plenty of it.

For years since that fateful day in 2013, I tiptoed around the perimeters of my art. I couldn't ever fully give it up. I wrote 14 songs in one crazy day, I had so much pent up creativity. I wrote over 50 short stories, each in one sitting, usually late into the night when the rest of the world was sleeping. I wrote poetry. I sang songs I never recorded, into rooms with no audience. I taught vocals. I sang in a play. I volunteered as a music director twice. It was something, but it was not the same. I wasn't embracing my dreams. I was propping up the dreams of others. And there is value in that. I enjoyed being able to give back. I enjoyed being in proximity to what authentically moves and inspires me.

Last year, I walked away from a job where I was being ostracized, bullied and gossiped about, knowing it was going to cost me my home. I had had enough. I was devolving into negative thinking patterns that I had worked strenuously to overcome. So I made up my mind to throw caution to the wind, sell my house, though I very much wanted to stay, move hours away from everyone I know and love, into a house that is in deplorable condition all for one thing... art. I thought about Jim Carrey's speech where he talks about how you can fail doing something you hate so you might as well do something you love. That hit the mark with precision for me.

I was indeed failing. Badly. My net worth went down by 900K in five years. My banking agent let me know that shocking figure when I was forced to empty the last of my RRSP savings to keep food on the table until the house sold and the cheque cleared at the bank. I was so grief stricken when I first arrived in my new house that I lost function for months. Actually. I felt frozen except when my heart was twisting with stress and sadness. But the thing is, something else was happening too. I was reading again. And writing. I was educating myself on a wide variety of subjects. I studied my own condition (cPTSD) and learned actionable steps I could take to heal. I was facing truths I wanted to hide from. There was nowhere else to run in the silence that can deafen you when no one is around.

Last night a friend who works as a contractor confirmed my fears about some of the problems in my house. They are serious. And I am out of cash. I burst into tears in my kitchen, paced back and forth, stood in front of my punching bag like a defeated opponent; my neck and shoulder hurting like the dickens from whatever I did to set off my DDD, this time. Then I made a decision. I went out. I thought, if everything is going to hell in the basket, I am going to go get myself something to eat. I drove all the way to the next town over, just so I could order from Edo Japan. And while I was there I made another decision. I bought myself two planters of outdoor flowers. Bright flowers. Beautiful, uplifting little blooms to make my front porch feel more like home.

I listened to the songs I'm working on with my son and producer, I thought about how freaking cool it is that my daughter is going to be a paramedic and is on a ride along today. I thought about how kind my friends have been offering me advice and empathy about my situation. I thought about how nice it was outside. How cool it looks when hawks practically float in one spot sometimes, how you can drive in and out of a rainstorm on the highway and how much I love my kids and my pets.

Some neighbourhood kids came around selling raffle tickets, with all the excitement of youth, my neighbours and I chatted over this and that while her dog wandered around enjoying the fresh air. And while all that was going on I realized that even though I'm on shit creek, I still have a paddle, and there are people who still care about me.

There is a woman I don't know very well. I met her years ago at a music seminar. She's a wonderful songwriter, but what has always struck me about her is how positive and humorous she is. Even when she has reasons to be glum, she finds a smile and shares it out like a ray of sunshine. She's going through cancer for the second time right now. She's still young. She's been through chemo. She's lost all her hair. And she still creates amazing, uplifting posts on facebook about her experience. I feel humbled by people like her, in a good way. I feel inspired. And that also makes me grateful.

Almost everyone I know is facing a challenge, one way or another in their own lives. Certainly the world is a tricky place these days, with so much information and so many voices, it's hard to hear one's own thoughts. It's hard to catch a breath sometimes. But we do. It may only be a moment. It may be something as trivial as a sparrow outside your window, or a song you like on the radio. Those are the moments to live for. That's what I think it means to enjoy the journey.

A long time ago I went on a road trip that tested me in so many ways, I nearly turned back, but if I had I would never have known the euphoria of arriving at my destination. I feel a little like that now. This is the part of the trip when I so badly want to turn around and go back. Take the easier way. But in this case, there is no easy way left. There is only the road ahead and I must take it. Every step forward brings me one step closer to finding my wings, and breaking free from the confines I have placed around myself, to fly at last. And isn't that worth being grateful for?

Freedom really is a state of mind, in my opinion.