[A note from Tina: Carolyn's post applies to a wide array of relationships. I love the quote from Joan Chittister--gives hope to confusion.]

Recently, we adopted a little tsunami. A four legged one. Yes, he’s a small dog. After fostering dogs over the summer we became “foster fails” come fall. But what logically should have been a big celebration, for me, became a tsunami of emotions and angst.

You see, I love dogs and have always had them, so it was to my complete shock and surprise that this little rascal was met with open arms by everyone… but me.

As many of you know, I am all about empowering women to thrive in the second half of life. To find their creative mojo and express it authentically. To fully become who we are.

Except when I looked at that little gipper of a mutt, I felt like the self I thought I’d left behind — the one who stayed home caretaking while everyone else was leading their big lives…

As I was settling in to write, he was nipping at my skirts to play ball. As I dreamed of travel… he reminded me that I need to find baby (uh, dog) sitters. And as I walked, where I often meditate and connect with creative ideas… I was instead feeling frustrated with leash training and poop scooping.  And then there was the old feeling of “who is going to feed him” as my husband and I once again were negotiating the duties of caring for a small one… and yes, being the “work at home” parent I ended up with the lion’s share.

At the same time that I was resenting the dog, I was just as often finding myself skipping through the house with a squeaky toy or singing as he looked at me, head cocked and brown eyes puzzled. When I got sad, he was a little bit of sweetness and honey in my lap.

Part of me wanted to nurture, and part of me wanted freedom. As I fell deeper into confusion, refusing to actually name this little pup, I started asking everyone their advice. It fell into two camps. The “When my old dog dies I’m never getting another so I can finally be FREE” camp, and the “I can’t believe you are even hesitating, he is the sweetest, cutest dog” camp. I was squarely in the “I don’t know what to dooooooo!” camp.

As Joan Chittister says “Confusion stirs the habitual order of things. It throws the deck of lifestyle cards into the air and puts them back together again. Newly.”

It felt like I was in that new baby fog where I lost track of me, of my desires and direction. But I just kept breathing, listening for what to do, watching to see how those cards would creatively be put back together.

As it ends up, we’re keeping little Louie.  Some days it feels like a great decision; other days, not so much.  I sense that I am still evolving, and while I don’t want to obligate the future me to something she may not want, I’m also noticing more sparks of feeling alive, kindled by the freshness and glee of our new friend. He reminds me to laugh more, too.

This seems to be the creative process. Different elements arise and get mixed up, confusion reigns (along with fear), and then a direction emerges. Even if an imperfect one.  As much as I might want that guarantee that I’ve made the right choice, only time will tell. Meantime, I can both enjoy and breathe through the newly shuffled cards before me. With life, there is no other way… Hi, I’m Carolyn. My purpose here is to rekindle your creative soul and inspire you to live the life of depth, imagination and creative expression that you’ve always wanted. Join me on this adventure!

Carolyn Scarborough is a coach, author and mentor who clears the path back to your creative core and what matters most. Through deep, intuitive listening, she dissolves blocks and reconnects people to their authentic voice and purpose. She leads writing and women's retreats and groups, teleclasses as well as individual coaching. You may visit her website at www.carolynscarborough.com.