Setting Aside the Nice to Face the Most Notorious Shadowbag For A Less Stink Worthy 2015

Posted on the 22 December 2014 by Juliejordanscott @juliejordanscot

When I started Quest 2015 I didn't really know what I was getting into. I thought it was one prompt a month for the entirety of 2015 but surprise, the prompts continue to show up throughout the month of December and so I keep showing up and responding and by gosh and by golly, the work of Jeffrey Davis of Tracking Wonder and his people have had quite an impact on me. You may still join the transformational adventure by visiting here.

Ginny Lee Taylor's post about her Shadowbag was a bold reminder I could write of mine. Thank you, Ginny, for being such an inspiration.

Today's Visionary Prompter is Eric Klein, "a pioneering voice in bringing more spirit, meaning, and authenticity into the workplace. He's worked with over 20,000 leaders from Fortune 500 companies, healthcare, governmental and non-profit organizations as well as mid-size companies."

His prompt asks us this:

How will you face your shadow bag and stop the stink, so you can bring forth the best of you in 2015? What can you claim right now?

This version of Marley comes from Jacob Rackham's 1915 illustration. I imagine my shadowbags of bullshit as being much puffier (and stinkier!)

Shadowbags: Perhaps it is due to the season, but in my mind’s eye I see myself doing a Jacob Marley impression with bags of bullshit weighing me down rather than the Dickensian chains.

The questions being asked of me are:

Why do I buy into the bullshit?

What will it take to stop purchasing more packages that cause me to become heavier and unhappier?

Perhaps these questions were underneath my pillow all night, requesting I honestly take a peek into current and future life choices so that my habitual choices of the past will not continue to add bulk to the bags of bullshit I have carted around for decades in some cases.

“Name them,” the question askers say.

“Put it out there, please.” Then the response as I silently scoff. “It will be worth it.” they cajole.

I think the shadowbags under my eyes have had enough play in my recent months but then I hear “No one reads your blog, anyway, so who can bite your ass or add to the bullshit bags if they aren’t even reading your blog?”

Interesting that I literally set aside theater this year once again. I was in one production, perhaps a ten minute scene (if that) in a late night show at the Empty Space. I got a lot of praise for it and enjoyed doing it a lot. I wasn’t able to be involved in any more productions because of my devotion to Grannying. I tried to do the Scottish Play and I directed two one act plays, but I had to drop out of the Scottish play and the one act plays were great on one hand and on the other, just not worth the pain.

Shadowbag #1 a.b.c. I deserve pain. Put other people first, always, even if it nearly slays your spirit. Praise and satisfaction are nothing when the people I love most don’t bother to show up.

I didn’t write much poetry this year, but when I did write poetry it was astounding. I’m claiming that as not a shadowbag. I also realize, looking back at my notebooks, there are quite a few stillborn poems that in the past would have been massaged and sculpted and breathed into form.

Shadowbag MommyJulieFail: I am a lousy giver-of-birth-and-life. Death is my friend, death is what my womb brought forth first and will bring forth last both actually and metaphorically.

Sometimes we have to tear holes in our outside veneers to restore what is buried (and still there) like I did with my home this Summer.

My hands refused to continue there for a moment, perhaps because that one hurts so much to admit on paper. I have another stillborn poem from about five years ago that was stillborn. I don’t believe I have ever confessed this aloud or if I have, I have forgotten it.

Buying into being a stillbirth-giver-of-death does not pay homage to my daughter who died at birth nor does it honor the children I have who lived, the grandson I have who lives, the foster daughter I raised or the projects I carried through the finish line, contentedly with a proud new Mommy smile on my face.

My hands stop moving again.

Normally when they get like this the document gets closed or erased or disappears completely.

“When will you get over it?” the Daddy of my daughter asked me when she would have been three-years-old. I never imagined how the shadows of what wasn’t would continue to color so many aspects of the rest of my life. It has been almost twenty-five years. It is time to take the hand of my baby daughter when she was still alive within me and birth her in a different way so that I may birth my life (work, creativity, all of it) in a different way.

Not all of my life is coated in maudlin colors. In fact, many of the people I associate  with now know nothing of this part of my history. I bring this to the surface here because without acknowledging it, the nibbles on my feet, my hands and my heart continue.

Shadowbag #7: I feel too much for too long which makes me a crazy freak of the worst sort. The thing is, people who love me love this about me. They love that I feel a lot and cry with a carload of teenagers as I explain about my long ago mental health clients who I seemed to see differently than the other clinicians, how looking into their eyes and seeing the person inside forever changed me.

This is an anti-shadowbag I created in 2014. Pretty cool to discover and claim and I looked for images to go with this blog post! YES!


Shadowbag #7B: Too. Too. Too.  Julie, the Adverb
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I laugh too loud. I am too heavy. I am too sexual. I am too maudlin. I am too goofy. I am too quirky. I am too emotional. I am too discombobulated.

How interesting.

My daughter joined me on the sofa just now. It is 8:20 and the first morning of winter vacation. I woke with a painful chest and decided to just sit here and attempt to write and I realize in the writing my chest is much less painful and clogged.

I didn’t take any decongestant but the heavy feeling and pain I thought would slay me today has turned minimalist.

I add some more notes to the body of this blog post which is actually longer than I usually write or post.

I’m going to leave it because who will read it all the way through, anyway.

Why do I buy into the bullshit? There is an aspect of me that believes if the risks are too great if I were to let go of the stillbirth aspect of my life and if I actually finish stuff and put it out there widely and wildly, I will fail and that will hurt and it just isn’t worth it.

What will it take to stop “purchasing” more bullshit packages? This is an exceptional start. Continually asking and being brave enough to actively respond to the questions and change my habitual behaviors will be where the results live. It is definitely worthy of testing, yes?

If you’re still here, thank you.

I look forward to adventuring with you in the future.

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 Julie Jordan Scott is a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy and mixed-media artist  whose Writing Camps and Writing Playgrounds permanently transform people's creative lives. Watch for the announcement of new programs coming Winter 2015 and beyond.

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