All of the roses have died - shriveled up, too thirsty and too bound to blossom. Thirsting for life. They lived on inside their little buds, never fully awakened.
Except for one. One tiny rose anxious for life. Perhaps it will make it, always seeking the sun, seeking the fullest life.
Are you awakened?
As fall arrives this is our challenge - to be awake and together again despite the cold winds sweeping ahead, always just around the corner.
We are now on our way to a more connected home, thanks to my boyfriend Marc. We have a Canary downstairs, no not the delightful little bird but a dainty camera that watches you. I do like its design. It’s for security though Marc has been using it to check in on the dog.
“Look she’s moving,” he says.
I’d rather not know what she does the eight hours we are away. The dog is kept in a square, cold tiled and empty laundry room with a few windows of entertainment.
Next it will be the doors. He’s already investigating mobile locks.
Maybe next the fridge or the frying pan to measure what’s too hot or too cold. Don’t you know the perfect temperature? Are you really standing their grazing, looking inside the fridge when you just ate? An alarm will sound. You will be notified immediately.
Again and again till every nook and crannie can be examined like we are playing doctor with our own home, our own lives, all up for display.
“I have measured my life in tea spoons,” the great T. S. Eliot once said. Could he imagine? The tea spoon talked back, “Yes, that’s three cups of tea and two cups on a bad day, seventy two thousand teaspoons of sugar per lifetime.”
What does it all add up to?
I walk past the canary. It is almost unnoticeable except I know that it’s there. I can’t swear or curse or say anything with anger because it’s listening. Someone is listening waiting to examine, to explain and tell me what I may not want to know.
Lately quite a few folks have been coming to me admitting like a secret under their breath that they are a creative writer too. They just don't know what to do.
I recommend to develop your process. Pick up a copy of The Artist's Way and begin to tap into your creative soul. There's also a great introductory podcast by Elizabeth Gilbert called Magic Lessons. I love it.
One of the final exercises in The Artist's Way is to write down your own creative affirmations. I think it helps guide you. Here are mine.
- I am strong, beautiful and full of love and passion for the world.
- I help build community, unite others, and create empathy through storytelling.
- The stories I tell are vital to helping others understand and live in our world today.
- I work to help all people those diverse in background and economic standing, those left behind from traditional American narratives.
- I believe in the power of the human spirit. I believe that we can create and recreate again. That we each have a purpose.
- I help inspire and empower people to fulfill their life’s potential.
- My purpose is to unite others. I do this through storytelling and community building.
- I am very prolific with many, many wonderful stories to share in this world. There is no competition with art. There is only creation.
What would yours be?
While sitting on the bus back from a festival I listened in to talk about engagement. It was the "proposal story" told again and again.
They were creative. One man staging a fake pullover with the local police who searched him and pulled a ring out of his pocket. Take about unexpecting setting. Then, another guy bragging how he made his now wife date him for 7 years and climb a 14 mile hike before saying I do.
A 14 mile hike. And she was crying. No, not the happy crying. They were not tear of joy during the trip.
I like that story the best. The way it was presented seemed to reflect some pieces of our culture: do this and then you will be rewarded. For the young and hopeful, marriage can be perceived an award. You achieve it. You reach your goal. The top of the mountain is your goal. The house with two cars and two kids. That is your goal.
But it is also an illusive goal. It is not the top of the mountain, it is the hike along the way, and the man by your side making you cry or laugh during the hike. There is no proposal at the top, no reward at the end.
It is each every step and each and ever mountain crossed together.