The forest or the trees

Satisfaction.

The word drifts into my mind as I drive home from the studio space where TZ and I have been spending several hours over the past few days immersed in the creative process.

Satisfaction. Satisfied. Suffice.

I am all of this and more.

I am at peace, my creative spirit dancing with joy and elation. I have been playing with texture, colour, tone. I have been slapping on paint, smearing, merging, layering. I have been having fun!

It has been awhile since I painted. In fact, since my art show in May I have not picked up a brush.

Work In Progress – not finished

I know. Scary.

And it is. Scary. To think that I have let go of doing something that brings me such joy, such peace, such satisfaction.

It happens. Life gets busy. Time and circumstances shift. My focus wanders and I forget about the things that bring me peace.

Like meditating in the morning.

I’ve been slacking off. Letting go of that which grounds me every morning. Using the excuse of ‘not enough time’ as a means to deny myself that which brings me strength, courage, joy.

What gives?

In the other light

Philosopher and Jesuit priest, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, wrote, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.”

And that’s the challenge. In my human experience I gave into my human nature’s call to check out. Avoid. Redirect. Detour and deke, dip and dive away from staying present. I got humanly lazy in my spiritual connections. I took a physical break from my psychic self.

Hello! I’m back. I’m here. I’m connected.

And I am reminded. When I lose the path, all it takes is to come back and begin again.

Emergent Women

Always begin again.

And in my beginning again I am not thrust to the back of the line. I am not in a queue or on the line waiting for a service rep to come on the line and answer my question. There is no voice exhorting me to ‘Stay on the Line. Your call will be answered in the order it is received.”

I am the giver and the receiver of my connection to the Universe. It’s not that the universe cares, or not, whether I turn up. I do. And when I take a break, beginning again where I’m at, is the only way to reclaim my balance, to restore my equilibrium.

I begin again.

I painted this weekend. I dripped and poured and splashed and daubed. I let colours run. I let my imagination flow free. And in the process, I found myself again, exactly where I am, in the place I’ve always been.

At home in my heart. At One with the One. At peace with it all.

I found myself in the embrace of the muse, my spirit running free, my soul stirring and jiving and dancing for joy. I found myself and begin again.

What a wonderful gift.