Good morning, Suleika, and beloved community. It is a little after 4 a.m. and the birds are singing their revelry. The pre dawn sky, oh, how do you describe splendor like that? Pink and orange and blue, yes, but, a promise. A watercolor in the heavens, the warm hues melting into the cool. Another day. Another happy accident! Your beautiful message met me where I landed this morning, waking early, thinking about the plans I am always reaching for. Living, reaching, into the future. I have wondered what value to place on years of want. How do we measure happiness and meaning when life is hard? Indeed, is it only my own happiness that should bear the weight of glory? What river is running beneath the surface of my life? What current is stirring to move me into stillness? What would my life look like, feel like, if I stopped looking for houses in Maine or drawing up plans for my perfect writing cabin? ( See? You nailed, me!!) As you said, creativity is so often born out of urgency, out of our own happy accidents. And that requires , again, the surrender you speak of. I have not wanted to let go. To be here now. I think I am getting close, though. Your message, your joy, your quest to live a life of creativity, to bend to the moment, to find a way through, is such an inspiration for me. How deeply I thank you.
I have a room, here in my log cabin, waiting for me. Painted a deep, rick grey green to soothe me. A newly refinished desk that was my mother's, and books. Everywhere. Is there a story waiting for me in that room? Is there a life, hidden from me, waiting to be lived in these everyday, ordinary moments?
When I open that door, will I find my own Narnia? Will there be magic? Surely there will be wonder and if history is a teacher, there will be lessons.
What saves me, as I wonder and I wander, is beauty. Beautiful beauty. It can be anything. Music, a sentence that takes my breath away, this morning sky and song. Kindness always saves me, which is its' own kind of beautiful. Humility is lovely. All these containers for splendor. They save me. And of course, this dog.
Suleika, thank you for sharing your journey with me. I am wishing you such peace and buckets and buckets of joy as you stand before your life size fever dreams! Congratulation!
"Beloved community", I like that, Jacqueline! That describes us so very well. My workspace today, Suleika, is my backyard. Sitting on the deck, crocheting, listening to birds, feeling the breeze, playing with my grandchildren who are visiting from Germany. It's a beautiful Michigan day, blue sky, hot sun, with the promise of summer arriving very soon. I feel at peace, creative, rested, happy.
This is my first time writing here. I have been following and reading and writing for almost a year now as I navigate my own healing. The question "what saves me?" seems so incredibly relevant at this time in my life's journey. What saves me? What has saved me? What is saving me? A deep connection to self and to others which for me requires an intentionality of being present, vulnerable, open to the range of human emotion in such a way that I have not allowed myself to feel in a very long time. So many other things have taken precedence- work being one huge thing, a need for control, hanging on so tightly to control that it restricts and chokes; a pursuit of perfection which is an insatiable beast, a desire for acceptance which had me chasing others' expectations of what I thought I should be doing and who I thought I should be; a need to be "busy" as if busy meant better and everything was urgent. Ironically, now that I am not sure of how much time I have, what saves me is the knowing that I have at least( at most?) this day, this moment and I want to be present enough, be still enough, with every fiber of my being to see, feel and experience all that might unfold; the way my granddaughter feels in my arms when she falls asleep there, the rustling of the trees in my back yard at dusk, the crunch of earth and ground underneath my feet when I go for a walk in the woods, the laughter of friends, the rhythm of my 90 year old mothers voice when she recites poetry to me like she used to when I was a child, the weight of my husband's hand resting gently on my shoulder
Suleika— What an inspiring post! I especially resonated with: “Sometimes the best creativity is born of urgency. It’s born from a more kind of savage place.”
What is saving me right now?
Watching flowers grow & glow in golden hour light. I had a glorious slow walk last night discovering sunlit flowers to photograph on a perfect June evening.
I am continuing the 10 minute drawing challenge from a couple of weeks ago. What I have to work with has been what’s nearby: a coral pink marker, a black ballpoint pen, and a 5.5 x 8.5 sketch book I usually write my journal entries in.
I haven’t been home much in the last 5 1/2 months. I have been in the city, closer to medical care. I am medically fragile and now have colon cancer.
Words are not creatively percolating at this point. They can’t do justice to what I am feeling and facing. I did morning pages for ten years. Then a mentor suggested I meditate instead. So that has been my priority.
I journal sporadically now.
I am attempting to decorate my savage place with some beauty via my photography work and this new venture in drawing. I draw propped up in bed.
With both art forms the incessant chatter of anxiety in my brain fades away. I feel a healing force beyond me and I come back to my center.
I never thought I would come back to drawing judgment free, or that I would find it emotionally and spiritually fulfilling. —All because I took the drawing challenge.
Music also feeds me. Late last night a melody fragment was playing in my head. It was very very late. I notated it anyway, so I could come back to it.
Urgency and savagery seem to be ubiquitous in our world. I am thirsty for the calming creative processes I can engage. They nourish me when nothing else can.
Good morning, Suleika, and beloved community. It is a little after 4 a.m. and the birds are singing their revelry. The pre dawn sky, oh, how do you describe splendor like that? Pink and orange and blue, yes, but, a promise. A watercolor in the heavens, the warm hues melting into the cool. Another day. Another happy accident! Your beautiful message met me where I landed this morning, waking early, thinking about the plans I am always reaching for. Living, reaching, into the future. I have wondered what value to place on years of want. How do we measure happiness and meaning when life is hard? Indeed, is it only my own happiness that should bear the weight of glory? What river is running beneath the surface of my life? What current is stirring to move me into stillness? What would my life look like, feel like, if I stopped looking for houses in Maine or drawing up plans for my perfect writing cabin? ( See? You nailed, me!!) As you said, creativity is so often born out of urgency, out of our own happy accidents. And that requires , again, the surrender you speak of. I have not wanted to let go. To be here now. I think I am getting close, though. Your message, your joy, your quest to live a life of creativity, to bend to the moment, to find a way through, is such an inspiration for me. How deeply I thank you.
I have a room, here in my log cabin, waiting for me. Painted a deep, rick grey green to soothe me. A newly refinished desk that was my mother's, and books. Everywhere. Is there a story waiting for me in that room? Is there a life, hidden from me, waiting to be lived in these everyday, ordinary moments?
When I open that door, will I find my own Narnia? Will there be magic? Surely there will be wonder and if history is a teacher, there will be lessons.
What saves me, as I wonder and I wander, is beauty. Beautiful beauty. It can be anything. Music, a sentence that takes my breath away, this morning sky and song. Kindness always saves me, which is its' own kind of beautiful. Humility is lovely. All these containers for splendor. They save me. And of course, this dog.
Suleika, thank you for sharing your journey with me. I am wishing you such peace and buckets and buckets of joy as you stand before your life size fever dreams! Congratulation!
Love,
Jacqueline
"Beloved community", I like that, Jacqueline! That describes us so very well. My workspace today, Suleika, is my backyard. Sitting on the deck, crocheting, listening to birds, feeling the breeze, playing with my grandchildren who are visiting from Germany. It's a beautiful Michigan day, blue sky, hot sun, with the promise of summer arriving very soon. I feel at peace, creative, rested, happy.
This is my first time writing here. I have been following and reading and writing for almost a year now as I navigate my own healing. The question "what saves me?" seems so incredibly relevant at this time in my life's journey. What saves me? What has saved me? What is saving me? A deep connection to self and to others which for me requires an intentionality of being present, vulnerable, open to the range of human emotion in such a way that I have not allowed myself to feel in a very long time. So many other things have taken precedence- work being one huge thing, a need for control, hanging on so tightly to control that it restricts and chokes; a pursuit of perfection which is an insatiable beast, a desire for acceptance which had me chasing others' expectations of what I thought I should be doing and who I thought I should be; a need to be "busy" as if busy meant better and everything was urgent. Ironically, now that I am not sure of how much time I have, what saves me is the knowing that I have at least( at most?) this day, this moment and I want to be present enough, be still enough, with every fiber of my being to see, feel and experience all that might unfold; the way my granddaughter feels in my arms when she falls asleep there, the rustling of the trees in my back yard at dusk, the crunch of earth and ground underneath my feet when I go for a walk in the woods, the laughter of friends, the rhythm of my 90 year old mothers voice when she recites poetry to me like she used to when I was a child, the weight of my husband's hand resting gently on my shoulder
Suleika— What an inspiring post! I especially resonated with: “Sometimes the best creativity is born of urgency. It’s born from a more kind of savage place.”
What is saving me right now?
Watching flowers grow & glow in golden hour light. I had a glorious slow walk last night discovering sunlit flowers to photograph on a perfect June evening.
I am continuing the 10 minute drawing challenge from a couple of weeks ago. What I have to work with has been what’s nearby: a coral pink marker, a black ballpoint pen, and a 5.5 x 8.5 sketch book I usually write my journal entries in.
I haven’t been home much in the last 5 1/2 months. I have been in the city, closer to medical care. I am medically fragile and now have colon cancer.
Words are not creatively percolating at this point. They can’t do justice to what I am feeling and facing. I did morning pages for ten years. Then a mentor suggested I meditate instead. So that has been my priority.
I journal sporadically now.
I am attempting to decorate my savage place with some beauty via my photography work and this new venture in drawing. I draw propped up in bed.
With both art forms the incessant chatter of anxiety in my brain fades away. I feel a healing force beyond me and I come back to my center.
I never thought I would come back to drawing judgment free, or that I would find it emotionally and spiritually fulfilling. —All because I took the drawing challenge.
Music also feeds me. Late last night a melody fragment was playing in my head. It was very very late. I notated it anyway, so I could come back to it.
Urgency and savagery seem to be ubiquitous in our world. I am thirsty for the calming creative processes I can engage. They nourish me when nothing else can.