I'm looking inward as the days fade to darkness sooner and the weather turns colder.
I'm seeing how I want to take better care of myself.
I'm slowly doing things differently...taking my camera out for walks more often, listening more closely to my body, grabbing the charcoal and sketch pad when my artist self calls out for them.
It's difficult. Sometimes I fight it. The old ways return: beating myself up for not accomplishing more, telling myself I'm not good enough because I don't measure up to other women I compare myself to.
Eventually I'll create new patterns, ones that are more suited to my soul. I'll ignore the critic more and embrace the artist. And it will feel so good.