I’m in a crazy space as an artist a person right now.

In this space of cocooning and hiding away and introspection.

I don’t really want to tell you guys where I’m at because it feels like a super vulnerable season of coming to terms with my identity and doing some deep diving into some pretty tangled thought patterns/lies/beliefs.

Fun times.

Who knew this could be so hard? This fully embracing and embodying and understanding what the calling on my life is – and learning how to steward this life in a way that may not make sense to anyone else (including myself at times), but in a way that honours my giftings, my energy and God, who gave me this one life and the big bundle of Melissa-ness to look after and bear fruit.

Part of this season is to practice listening to God’s voice and leading in a deeper way. I’ve been hearing, but not trusting. I admit it. So much of what He’s been saying hasn’t made sense on a rational level.

He told me how empty I am. How drained. And that it was of utmost importance to refuel and spend my time filling. Do nothing that I find draining.

When you’re that empty, even having a conversation over morning tea with a friend (as I found), can make the rest of your day a write-off. How annoying.

I’ve been working from home now for just over four weeks. And there have been things to be done, right? Important things. People waiting. My word I needed to keep.

Filling? Who has time for that? I had a book that needed finishing. That was already later than my publicly self-imposed deadline. And then it needed more attention. And more. And then the marketing. And the admin.

And stressful 10-hour day after 10-hour day becomes: Friends? Leave me alone. Writing? I hate it. Acting? Don’t even talk to me.

And then the triple-edged guilt.

I’m not doing enough on the one side. I don’t love anything anymore on the other. I’ve been disobedient to God’s urging to rest and refuel, but I can’t bring myself to do it and not feel like a lazy loser on the other.

This has gone on for four miserable weeks. Weeks, I might add, that were supposed to be happy and fun and fulfilled.

Up before the sun and straight to work. Annoyed when my husband came home because I had to stop.

Seriously? I don’t want to live like that.

And God’s like Hellloooooo? Remember Me?

You get to a point where you think you’ve got this trusting God thing sussed. Until you realize it was just one layer of the multilayered onion that gets peeled throughout a life. Warning: like all onions, may cause tears to form.

So I’m doing an experiment. Obeying. What a concept, hey?

OK, God, have it your way (she says with the pout of a stubborn toddler kicking the ground with her folded arms).

For two days this week, I started my day with the Holy Spirit. What do You want to say to me? What should we do today?

His answers haven’t changed: Rest. Refresh. Refuel. Read books. Watch movies. Take walks. Make up crazy stories. Don’t believe Me? Well, here’s a blog post about the importance of creative refueling. And here’s an email about keeping the creative well full. And here’s a . . .

Oh! So I’m not being a lazy loser after all?

Uh, no. You’re making it possible for you to fall in love with your passions again and to pursue them with joy. And I’ve given you these instructions because I love you and know you and know the good plans I have for you. Trust. Me.

Now as a creativity coach, I’ve said all this stuff to clients and students. It’s awesome advice – for someone else. I’ve spent years telling people how to live a more creatively fulfilled life and helped them strategize and life plan with great success.

But my own life? Hmm. God gave me a really strong vision a while back of being on an airplane before take-off during the safety briefing and then said to me:

Put your own oxygen mask on before helping others.

Makes total sense! How can you help the guy next to you if you’re all passed out and comatose?

So in this season, I’m busy putting my own mask on. The elastic doesn’t feel right and I look absolutely ridiculous with a yellow plastic duckbill thing on my face, but it’ll probably save my life and possibly the lives of others in the long run.

Wow, that’s deep. 😉

(Special thanks to my friend in Sweden for her recent series of inspiringly vulnerable posts.)

Feel free to chime in on the topic below!