Today

“How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives.” ~Annie Dillard

Time. That inevitable, uncontrollable, damned necessity of a corner stone that leads to all manner of circumstances, painful and pleasant, and the ever-subsequent healing and growth that results from such experiences.

It is elusive at best. Something we stress over as the years pass, yet waste so much of on a daily basis. Time sets things in motion. Stress and aging for example. We are like a dog chasing it’s tail, and ignorant of our laments, time flies past us. It leaves us to bemoan what we have not accomplished; what we have not attained. The timer is set, and we are racing against it.

Why the focus on outer beauty? Why the pressure to obtain success as the world sees it? My question is this: What are you doing with your time today?

Spend your time with people you love, who love you in return. Love and community: The greatest investments of one’s time. 

After all, relationships and the memories created therein are the only things we take with us when our time is up.

Future/Reality

I laugh at the thought of anxiety. It feels so foreign, so far away. Here, there is peace. There is a lightness to the air we share.

We breathe easy.

What confidence there is, in resting in love. Love of self meets love of other, and we fall – deeper in our passion than we ever dreamed possible.

Such strength to be found in friendship. A wonder… a true wonder. A romantic relationship bound in compassion and understanding.

Heat comes, but only in small bursts that soon fizzle, anger easily forgotten; replaced quickly by the heat of passion that burns through the night and into the morning.

We have found our home. It is not confined to a street, a city, or even a country. We have found it in each other. It is a home filled with tenderness, with love. And laughter. Endless laughter.

It is light, fresh and free, like the air we breathe.

There is an age to it – a reverence there that captures us. A kind of ancient wisdom. It runs beneath the surface; a current deep and steady. It is the foundation of our home, this wisdom of love. 

Love. It conquers all. It is overcome by nothing. It’s strength is unmatched and ever-enduring. Always forgiving. Always hoping. Unconditional.

We shine in our resilience. We face obstacles without fear, invigorated by the challenges they present.

The peacefulness abides. We breathe easy – in our reality, in our home.

Thoughts from the shoreline

It is not hard to understand one’s fascination with the ocean, or with mountains, great ravines, or expansive meadows. These things are mesmerizing in their grandiosity, and we are drawn to them. Irregardless of culture, religion, background or worldview, we are fascinated, curious even, by those things that make us feel small. It is a strange irony indeed, that we spend so much time and energy wanting to feel grand ourselves. We desire a sense of importance, meaning and purpose; we want to feel big. It is not wrong. It simply is.

Yet we are overcome, in the most wonderful way, when we are faced with something so immense that we feel as if we are but a speck. Perhaps that feeling – that soul drenching feeling – can be likened to one’s mirror being replaced with window. A shift in perspective. There is a whole world to see, to be admired. We have forgotten, because we’ve spent too much time admiring ourselves, in a manner of speaking. That is, our focus has long since been zoomed in on the minute details of our lives, that we have failed to view the bigger picture that our small human life is a part of.

The irony continues, in that there is a certain kind of power in the relinquishing of our power to something greater than us. To realize that we are all in this grand, mysterious world together is to realize how precious life really is.

Good Enough

“You’re an artist when you say you are. And you’re a good artist when you make somebody else experience or feel something deep or unexpected.” - Amanda Palmer, The Art of Asking

I question every submission on this blog before I post it, asking myself in some way or another: “Is this good enough?” Hoping in futility that if enough people notice, I will suddenly become “known”. I will be Gretchen, the Writer. I will be able to say “I am an artist”, and others will agree. I will be legitimized; validated.

The reason this is futile can be found in perfect summary in Amanda Palmer’s words, above. I am already an artist. I don’t have to be known, or good enough, or a viral phenomenon, for this to be true. For these are fantasies at best, and vain ones at that. Vanity is not my aim, nor is it my motivation. I do, however, desire to move people. I want them to connect to my words. Not because they are mine, but because I know the feeling, that beautiful feeling, of reading another person’s work and feeling the loneliness dissipate; as if your soul has found a friend, even if you should never meet. I want others to experience this feeling of connecting to something bigger than oneself. I want to be part of proliferating those experiences, so that they may pass on their own inspiration.

So I will continue to write, and I will encourage others to do the same. Choose your art. Stake your claim as an artist. Be it writing, music, visual arts, photography, design – Do it for the love of the craft. Do it for the love of connection. Do it for those people in the world, like myself, who are seeking to experience “something deep or unexpected.”

Echoes

I am happy. Contented. For the most part.

I am happy, but I feel like crying, for I am also sad. Mourning, slowly. It feels more like savoring; soaking up every moment.

It is an absolute refusal to take anyone – any moment – for granted.

Breathing. This is my focus while I wait, while I enjoy. I look around at the smiling faces. My family and friends carrying on joyously. Their lives continuing on, busy and full. Mine… Soon to change dramatically.

I see myself standing amongst them. I am still, and they are buzzing about me, a blur of color, light and sound.

Time passes. The sound fades, the colors soften, and they are gone. I am alone with the light. It is lonely here, where touch becomes memory, and laughter is but an echo.

The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.

Socrates

Homeward Bound

Momentum.

Although I am sitting in a relatively quiet, air-conditioned cafe, my heart races. If I sit still enough, I can count the beats by the thump in my chest.

I feel the winds of change flowing in and through me. A transition has begun.

Letting go. Stepping forth. Savoring every aspect of the here and now, knowing I will be releasing it and grasping a new present in a new place.

There is a fear of loneliness that casts the sheerest shadow on the light of my excitement. My anticipation shines with vibrance nonetheless.

There is a gratitude for the beauty of my life that swells within me. A balloon in my chest. Full and weightless, I float. Hovering, I step away – step towards. The momentum carries me.

Away.

The momentum is swift, and sure. A steady stream of events and energy. Leaping over boulders as if pebbles, running toward the ocean, toward opportunity.

It is quiet. My heart beats louder with every inch gained. I am coming home.