Kristine E. Brickey

A couple weeks ago, I was urged to create a series of 'Emotional' posts after sharing my draft about Grief. Shame was thrown at me, as a topic not as a tool for persuasion. Last week I struggled day after day to write the post. I tried to force my ideas onto the page, yet nothing was clicking, so I finally decided to leave it alone and wait. Which brings me to this morning. After a convergence of 'wow, last week has been a bag of suck' from fellow artists, friends, and even my husband, I decided that today I would forge ahead, get back on the proverbial horse. Though I hadn't written my Morning Pages in ten days (a daily act according to the Artist's Way by Julia Cameron), I made myself pick up my pen and journal as soon as I rose. Next, the procrastinated Chapter 3: Recovering a Sense of Power. I'd intended to read it last week, but as I've admitted, ended up unmotivated. It was as if the Universe collided with my doubts and set about, as my dad used t

Lately, the topic of guilt has come up too often for me to ignore. Time after time, my lovely, kind, put others before themselves friends have shared situations that leave them guilt ridden.  For instance:       I need to visit my (mom/dad/grandparent/friend/etc.) but I'm really dreading it because (they treat me so horribly/I really can't afford it/they never appreciate me/etc.) but if I don't go I will feel guilty.       I have to (fill in the chore/task) for my (fill in the relationship) or they're going to be angry and I feel guilty when I tell them no. My normal response to friends who lament feeling guilty about something is to profess, "STOP IT! Guilt is a wasted emotion."  I say this confidently. I say this with conviction. I say this with the firm understanding of an incredibly important point: the only people who seem to feel guilty about things are the people who shouldn't feel guilty. The actual guilty parties flit onward, without a blink of